Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Roxanne
It was Wednesday afternoon, and like every Wednesday, I ended my work day by checking to see whether Mrs. Watkins had any prescriptions to pick up.
Mrs. Watkins was one of the oldest ladies in Lupine.
Up until about six months ago, she had been a spry and sprightly nonagenarian with improbably red hair who still drove, played Bingo on Thursday nights, and could frequently be seen around her neighborhood walking Schatzie, her miniature schnauzer.
She came into the pharmacy periodically to pick up her medications and other odds and ends.
When she did, she would regale me with mostly made-up stories of the shenanigans her neighbors were getting up to, and tales of the dates she went on with swinging senior men.
In the past few months, though, Mrs. Watkins’s age had finally started catching up with her.
She had taken a nasty fall a while back, and though she hadn’t broken anything, the resulting reduction in her mobility had taken its toll on her health.
Recently, she’d decided to hang up her keys, claiming her hips hurt too much to drive safely anymore.
She still managed to get out for her weekly Bingo nights with her friend Hazel, and she still walked Schatzie a couple of times a day.
But she no longer liked to be anywhere where she couldn’t easily sit down and take a break if her knees or hips told her to.
One day not long after her fall, Mrs. Watkins called the pharmacy to ask if someone could possibly deliver her prescription renewal.
When I told her I could do it after work, she asked if I’d be a dear and pick her up a quart of milk as well.
That one-time errand had turned into a comfortable weekly routine.
In truth, I was happy to do it. Mrs. Watkins might be less ambulatory than she used to be, but her mind was still sharp as a tack.
I looked forward to seeing her every Wednesday.
Which might say something about the state of my social life.
I had just dropped off her groceries and was walking down her driveway, when I heard a familiar voice that caused me to practically jump out of my skin.
“I thought I recognized your car,” a deep, amused rumble said. “What brings you to the neighborhood?”
“Holy shit, Jackson! You scared the life out of me!” I gasped, rattled.
I looked up to see his sexy dark eyes boring into me.
I hadn’t seen him since he’d brought Les home from the bar that first night, about three weeks before.
He was shirtless, his skin tanned, his worn jeans slung low over his hips.
A thin sheen of sweat accentuated the muscles in his chest and arms. It took everything I had not to just stare at the chiseled perfection of him. He was amazing.
I put a hand to my heart to quiet its hammering, which was probably due as much to the sight of him as the fact that he’d startled me.
“You mean to tell me you live around here?” I asked, surprised.
Lupine wasn’t that big of a town, but it was large enough that running into Jacks like this felt like a pretty big coincidence.
“I do,” he said soberly, and lifted his chin toward a small brick ranch-style house across the street.
“Over there. Well, my folks did, anyway.” A lawn mower sat at the edge of his driveway, next to the freshly-mowed front yard.
That explained why Jackson was all sweaty.
My mind flashed on an image of him pushing the mower, slowly and deliberately, hard muscles flexing under his tanned skin.
Yard work had never sounded so sexy. I had to push down my disappointment that I had missed seeing him do it.
I shook myself out of my reverie, before he could notice that I was lost in very inappropriate thoughts about him. “Huh,” I laughed shakily. “Funny, I’ve been coming here every Wednesday for months, and I never ran into your dad.”
“That is funny,” he agreed. “Though if you’ve been coming here around this time of day, he was probably still at the garage.”
“I suppose that’s so.” I stood there for a second, struck dumb and trying desperately to sound normal.
What did people talk about in casual conversation?
I was horrifyingly aware of every millisecond that passed.
Finally, I blurted out the first thing I could think of.
“Well! Now that you’ve been here for a few weeks, what’s it like being back in Lupine?
” I asked, my tone just a little too bright.
“Huh-uh,” he cocked his head with a smirk. “I asked you first.”
I frowned and blushed in confusion. “What?”
“I asked you first. What brings you to the neighborhood?” A corner of his mouth went up in a sexy hint of a grin. “You said you come here every Wednesday.”
“Oh!” I said, getting even more sflustered. “I’m just delivering medications to Mrs. Watkins. She lives right there.” I pointed to the tidy white house two doors down.
“I know where she lives,” he replied. “I grew up here, remember? She’s been a fixture in this neighborhood for longer than I’ve been alive.”
“Of course you do,” I laughed nervously, and shook my head. “I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Say,” he asked casually, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “You wanna come in for a minute? It’s pretty hot out here. I gotta get some water.”
The question was so unexpected that it stunned me into silence for a couple of beats.
The Jackson I’d known in my childhood was more likely to order me to get him a Coke than to offer me something to drink.
The thought of being in his actual house with him made me feel as awkward as if he’d just asked me into his bed.
Hurriedly, I opened my mouth to say no — that I was fine, and had to get going.
But for some reason, what came out of my dumb face instead was, “Sure, I’d like that.”
I followed Jackson up the walk, unable to stop myself from watching his tight, muscular ass as it moved under his jeans.
At the front porch, he grabbed a soft-looking gray T-shirt from the railing and pulled it carelessly over his head.
Opening the screen door, he stood back to let me go through first. Inside, he pointed me toward the kitchen.
“So, I don’t have all that much on offer,” he told me. “Water, iced tea. There’s beer, too, if you want.”
He makes iced tea? I thought in surprise. It was hard to imagine Jackson Stone doing anything even slightly domestic. “Water’s fine,” I told him.
Jacks grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with a cold pitcher from the refrigerator. He handed me one and the two of us drank in silence for a few moments. He emptied his in one go, then poured himself another glass and drank about half.
I glanced around the house as we drank. It reminded me of ours in so many ways. The outdated, worn furniture. The dark paneling. The heavy drapes. Les and I hadn’t bothered to redecorate anything since our dad had died. I wondered if Jackson had any plans to do so here.
“So,” I spoke up, breaking the silence. “Now do I get to ask my question again?”
He grinned at me and winked. “I can’t even remember what it was.”
“What’s it like being back in Lupine? Are you planning on staying long?”
Jackson’s smile faded a bit. “Oh… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “As little time as possible.”
“Oh.” I took another drink of my water, trying to mask the disappointment I could hear in my own voice. I wasn’t sure what I was even disappointed about, anyway. After all, it wasn’t like Jackson had any interest in me. Not that I want him to, I told myself sternly.
“I have to figure out what to do about the house,” he continued, looking around. “And the garage. But once I’ve gotten all that taken care of, I’ll be out of here.”
“Are you going to sell Stone’s Repair?” I asked him.
“I guess so,” he frowned. “That was the plan. I don’t know who I’m gonna sell it to, though. I asked Harry Thurmond if he wanted to buy it. He says he’s too old to run the place, even though he still wants to keep working there.”
“You could always stay here,” I suggested.
“Take over the business.” I knew from Rodney Hunt, my boss, that Jackson had been working as a mechanic at Stone’s since he got back to town.
He’d replaced an alternator for Rodney last week.
Rodney told me Jackson knew his way around a car like few people he’d ever met.
Jacks snorted softly and looked down. “I don’t think so, Rox.”
“Why not?” I persisted.
“It’s just…” He hesitated. “I’m not really the staying kind.” He chuckled. “Old Harry’s taken to calling me ‘Rolling Stone’ at the garage. Guess he’s about right.”
“Just because you haven’t been the kind to stick around doesn’t mean you can’t be now,” I pointed out.
Jackson shook his head. “I’m not the same person I was when I left Lupine, Rox. I’m not exactly ‘fine upstanding citizen’ material.”
“I don’t see why not,” I said stubbornly. “So, you changed when you left. You can change again.”
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just drop the subject. My head was telling me I should, and from the look of annoyance on Jackson’s face, he wanted me to.
“Look,” he muttered. “It’s just not in the cards, Rox. I like my life the way it is. And it doesn’t involve taking root in Lupine, Colorado.”
“What does it involve?” I pressed.
He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Not much, I guess. That’s kind of the point. No attachments. I don’t really like having people thinking they can rely on me.”
“What, like no one?” I asked, surprised. “Like, you want to not have anyone even care whether you’re alive or dead?”
“That’s the idea.”
Him putting it so bluntly caused me to physically flinch. “God,” I said, stunned. “That just seems… so sad.”
“Not to me,” he said abruptly. Jackson stood up from where he’d been leaning on the counter. I took that as a sign I should go.
“Well, I’d better be getting home,” I said lamely. “Thanks for the water.”