Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
The bed store had a showroom full of beds. Jackson prowled around while I listened to a salesperson talk about foam density and interconnected coils. I sat down on a few mattresses but I had no idea what Jackson’s preference was when it came to mattresses.
“Jackson.”
He walked towards us. His movement added to his tough demeanor. I tried to pinpoint why he seemed so dangerous, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“What kind of bed do you like?”
His inscrutable expression took in the sales guy, me and the bed.
I tried again. “Do you like soft beds? Hard beds? A mattress with lots of spring?”
My face burst into heat. Something about a springy bed sounded provocative to my ears. He contemplated my red face.
Finally, he answered. “It doesn’t matter.”
The salesperson interjected, “The best way to figure out what you like is to test drive the beds.”
An insane vision of Jackson and I rolling around on the bed came to mind. Another wave of heat washed over me. I refrained from fanning my face.
Jackson looked towards the door. He may want to bolt, but there was no way I was choosing his bed. The least he could do was tell me what he liked.
“Well, better get testing then,” I said, waving my hand towards the bed. I sat down on the bed and then lay back. “This one seems a bit too hard for my taste, but you tell me.”
His face was almost a scowl, but he moved to the other side of the bed. The mattress depressed beside me. I turned my head. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. This was the last place he wanted to be.
“What do you think?” It was strangely intimate to be lying next to him. Which made me nervous.
“Too hard.”
I scrambled up to a sitting position. “We need a softer bed.”
The salesperson beamed. “There is a memory foam mattress right over here.”
I lay down on the next bed.
“I don’t know. This one feels a bit too spongy.”
Jackson stood next to the bed. I patted the bed. With a look of resignation, he lay down beside me. “Yup.”
“How about this one over here,” the salesperson pointed at the next bed. “This is a nice pillow top.”
The bed felt soft. I sighed with comfort. I felt the bed move as Jackson lay down beside me. “What do you think?”
“Not bad.”
I smiled at the ceiling. “Do you think you could sleep on this bed?”
“Yep.”
Anticipating a sale, the hovering salesperson said, “Are you a side sleeper or do you prefer to sleep on your back?”
“I sleep on my side,” I said. The salesperson waited for Jackson to answer .
I turned my head. “And you?”
“My back.”
“I have the perfect pillows for you both.” The salesperson rushed away.
I studied Jackson’s profile. He had such strong features. My friends would go bananas over this man. I could hint that he was a serial killer and they would still be scrambling over each other to get to him.
“Here we are,” the salesperson handed me a pillow. “This is specially designed for the side sleeper.”
I tucked it under my head and rolled over on my side towards Jackson. The salesperson held out a pillow towards Jackson. “This is for the back sleeper.”
I held my breath, wondering if he’d swat the pillow away. With a sigh, he tucked it under his head.
The salesperson walked a discrete distance away.
I lay curled up on my side. Even clothed and in a public store, it was strangely intimate to be lying next to this man in a bed. I felt dwarfed by his presence. We were two opposite ends of a spectrum. Next to my petite frame, he was massive in size.
He glanced at me and our gazes locked.
I broke the silence. “Usually when I meet Matt’s friends, they bore me to death with their insights on their favorite wine,”
“What are you saying?” he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Attempted murder and bed shopping is a lot more fun.”
His smile sucker punched me. My breath caught in my throat. No one had the right to be that attractive.
“Were you attacked before?”
His words shocked me. “Excuse me?”
“Right before you fainted, you said, not again.”
A wave of pain flashed through my body. I hated talking about my parents. “My parents died when I was 15. ”
That wasn’t a great explanation, but it was the best he was getting from me.
“Okay.” His eyes studied me.
“It was a bad situation.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
My breath let out of my lungs in a rush. “That’s okay.”
We looked at each other. I swallowed and then the words blurted out of me. “They were killed by a home invader.”
He winced. “Were you there?”
“Yes.”
In two short conversations, this man had somehow persuaded me to confess my virginity and my most traumatic life event. I had no idea how he managed to do that, but it was intimidating as hell.
“So what do you two think?” the salesperson asked from the foot of the bed.
I shot off the bed. “We’ll take it.”
I ended up buying the bed, the frame, and linens. I watched as Jackson and the sales guy loaded everything into the back of the truck. Jackson moved with ease. He didn’t seem injured. What treatment was he receiving at the hospital? Did he have some disease? What kind of medical treatment was he getting? He appeared fit and healthy. There was no visible injury.
Back at the loft, I inwardly fretted about how we would get the mattress upstairs, but Jackson easily carried everything up.
“I stuck your sheets in the wash,” I said from the doorway of his bedroom.
Jackson was on the floor of his room, putting the bed frame together.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need any help?”
“I’m good. ”
I hovered. Part of me wanted to bolt, the other part of me wanted to stay.
“How did you two meet?” His question came out of nowhere.
“Me and Matt?” I frowned. “He came into the art gallery that I work at.”
“Did he ask you out?”
“No. But we ran into each other at a party about a month later and he asked me out.”
“When did you get engaged?”
“Just after Christmas.”
“And you started dating a year ago?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
“Did you buy this place together?”
“Kind of.”
He glanced up at me.
“I bought it. Matt fell in love with it.”
“But you don’t love it.”
Did this man have x-ray eyes into my soul? How could he possibly know that?
“I’m still getting used to this place. I used to live in my granny’s place, but I’m sure this is going to be fine.”
He gave me a quick glance. As far as looks went, that one was pretty benign, but it still made me feel defensive.
I took an even breath. I had no idea why I was balking at his benevolent responses. He wasn’t overly scrutinizing me, yet I still felt judged.
“I thought it was a good idea. Plus Matt said that this place would have great resale value.”
“Sure.”
“Are you dating anyone?” I deliberately steered the conversation towards him.
A long beat. “No.”
“Any kids?”
“No. ”
“Oh. Well okay.” I turned to go. Just as I was about to cross the threshold, he spoke.
“Do you want kids?”
I looked over my shoulder and debated how to answer. I wanted a baby and to be part of a family. The sooner, the better. But this was a huge point of contention between Matt and myself. I wanted to start a family right away. Matt wanted to wait. “I want kids very much.”
Green eyes met mine. Studying me.
I couldn’t understand his look, and that made me feel awkward. “What about you? Do you want kids?”
He shrugged and turned away. “Probably not a good idea.”
I stared at his back. What did that mean? Why did he think he shouldn’t have kids? I wanted to press him because it was my innate nature to convince everyone that they needed children, but I refrained. Maybe men didn’t typically want children? With a maturity I didn’t feel, I changed the subject.
“Come and go as you please. I left a key on the island for you. Will you be here for dinner?”
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
“I cook every night. It isn’t any bother. Just let me know.”
“Will Matt be home?”
“Yes.” My fingers crossed behind my back. I would do my best to get Matt home for dinner.
“Can I bring anything?”
“No.”
“Thanks, Emily.”
There he was repeating my name in that deep, gravelly voice. Face aflame, I turned and fled.