Chapter Eighteen
Her baby steps had become leaps that burst beyond the tethers of her old life.
—The Temptress of Pecan Lane, by Mae Daniels
Anna awoke Sunday morning to the soft pitter of rain. Someone was snoring, but when she rolled over to give Jackson a shove, he was watching her.
Not wide awake, but awake enough that the continued snoring couldn’t be his. “Your dog sleeps loud.”
Beneath the sheet, he ran a hand over her bare hip. “She’s not the only one.”
She did give him a playful shove then.
“Rested yet?” he said. “I’m real good in the shower.”
His gray sheet was draped across his stomach. She reached out and traced the 33 in the middle of the Auburn tiger paw on his chest. “Showers are cold.”
He screwed his eyes up all crinkly and his lips did that thing like he was holding back a laugh.
“Anna Grace, you been showering with the wrong people.” He rolled up and over her with a speed she still found uncharacteristic of him, but the grin was all Jackson.
He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her neck.
“You go on and head to the bathroom, and I’ll show you how two people are meant to shower together. ”
That sounded promising.
Radish snorted. Her tags jingled. Jackson’s hand slid up to caress Anna’s breast, but when the dog let out a low growl, he stopped and cocked his ear toward the door.
Something that sounded suspiciously like a lock clicked somewhere beyond the bedroom.
Jackson was out of bed, reaching for one of the random pairs of pants scattered about the room, when the yelling started.
“Jackson Davis, you’ve got some explaining to do!”
Whoever she was, she was spitting mad.
And Anna couldn’t help but silently echo the mystery woman’s sentiment. Mad and all.
Jackson and Radish disappeared outside the bedroom door. “Pipe down,” she heard him say. “The neighbors might still be sleeping.”
“You wanna tell me why in tarnation Craig was out there this morning instead of you?” The woman made an outraged squeak. “You stood me up for a girl, didn’t you?”
Anna’s pulse ricocheted through her veins like an unstable electron. Jackson was a decent guy, wasn’t he? There had to be a reasonable explanation for a woman having a key to his house. A woman who thought she’d been stood up. For what? Church?
Lordy, what had she gotten herself into?
She scrambled out of the bed. She pulled the sheet off and wrapped it around herself. Twice.
Whoever the woman was, Anna wasn’t taking a chance of meeting her naked.
Though a meeting would take place and explanations would be given.
Jackson talked softer now, too quiet or too far away to hear more than the measured cadence of his voice.
Her overnight bag was still upstairs in his guest bedroom and her dress was somewhere close to there, so she stomped over to his dresser.
She located a T-shirt in the first drawer, then grabbed a pair of pants off the floor.
Clean or dirty, she didn’t care.
She cared only that she was in something more than her birthday suit.
She was trying to hop into the jeans without dropping the sheet when the door clicked shut behind her. Jackson set her overnight bag on the bed. He eyed her, and a grin split his cheeks. “Don’t reckon you need any help getting untangled from that sheet.”
Her face twisted disbelief. There was another woman in his house. “Maybe five minutes ago.”
He ambled up to her, still eyeing the sheet. “You got yourself wrapped up good in there.”
She arched an eyebrow. A very angry eyebrow.
“You thinking about homework, or you waiting for me to explain the crazy girl making us breakfast in my kitchen?”
He reached for the sheet. She swatted at his hand. “You’ll have better luck with her than you will with me right now.”
That wiped his grin off. “Darlin’, not even in Arkansas. Tell you what. You take your time in the shower. Louisa’s gonna be a while out there.”
Her eyes narrowed. He was playing with her again.
Too bad for him she wasn’t feeling like being played with. “I’m locking the door.”
“Go on and do what you need to.” He plucked the Bama shirt out of her hands, murmured, “Thank you, ma’am,” slid it over his head, and sauntered back out of the bedroom.
Leaving her mighty glad she was in this only for the sex.
Louisa probably didn’t know it, but when she glared at Jackson like that, eyes flashing, nose flaring, she looked like Daddy used to whenever Auburn was losing a football game. “So it was a girl,” she said.
“It was a wedding.”
She morphed into pure Momma mode quick, eyes narrowing to little pinpricks while she tried to find something to do with her hands. She settled on flinging a spatula at him. “You got married?”
Radish growled. Jackson flipped the spatula in his hand and headed to the refrigerator. He was glad Anna Grace looked angrier than a herd of rabid termites, because she was gonna need that mad to handle Louisa. Little sister had some territorial issues. “Mamie said it was a right pretty service.”
Didn’t have to turn to know when to duck this time. Little sister was also predictable.
“I’m calling Momma.”
He was thinking eggs weren’t all that great of an idea for breakfast. Likely to wear more of ’em than he’d get in the pan, the way Louisa looked. But he had all the fixings for biscuits and gravy and grits, and he had a mighty big appetite this morning.
The bedroom door clicked open.
He stuck his head back out of the fridge. Louisa watched the kitchen entrance with undisguised interest.
Considering he’d made sure she’d never met any of his girlfriends, he couldn’t blame her. And he had to check his grin knowing what she was about to see.
But he was more curious how quick Anna Grace would put it together.
Pretty fast, turned out. She took two blinks at Louisa, then raised a brow at him. “Kissing cousins? Kinky.” She swatted his butt. “Quit rednecking me.”
“Didn’t mind last night,” he murmured.
She blew out a girly huff.
Louisa, for once, was speechless. Anna walked up to her, crazy hair, big purple bruise spilling over her temple and all, and stuck her hand out. “Hi. I’m Anna.”
“She’s a Yankee? Does Momma know about this?” Louisa looked her up and down. “You bake biscuits? ’Cuz Jackson don’t need any more of those.”
“Don’t pay Louisa no mind,” Jackson told Anna. “She thinks being old enough to vote means she doesn’t have to use her manners anymore.”
Something flashed across Anna’s face, but those worry marks on her forehead faded as quick as they’d appeared.
Louisa glared at him, then gestured to her own temple. “He do that to you?”
Before he could defend himself, there Anna Grace went being fourteen feet tall again. “I’m sorry, have you met your brother?”
“Thought so, but he told me y’all got married yesterday, and you better believe my brother ain’t the marrying kind.”
“He does like a good joke though, doesn’t he?”
He hid his grin in the freezer while he went digging for Miss Dolly’s mailman’s girlfriend’s niece’s biscuits to toss in the oven. He came home thinking he’d learn something about his family. Hadn’t struck him they might learn a thing or two about him too.
Louisa was still eyeing Anna. “You bake him any biscuits?”
“I don’t like to talk about my biscuits,” Anna said as though she were sharing a secret.
Jackson wasn’t so keen on the two of them having any secrets. He pulled a gallon of milk and some sausage out of the fridge. “Louisa. Grab me a skillet down there.”
Her eyes rolled all the way up to her forehead, but she bent down and yanked the cabinet open.
Then shrieked like a girl.
Anna leaned over and peeked in, then gave Jackson another girly look.
“And you wanted me to make breakfast?” She pulled out his armadillo.
“How you doing, Enrique? Kinda dark in there, isn’t it?
” She checked to make sure the label she’d slapped on him with ENRIQUE in all caps was still on his bottom, then plopped him up on the counter.
“So much better for all of us, isn’t it? ”
“She named the armadillo?” Louisa hissed.
He grabbed his own skillet and set about making breakfast. “Yep.”
“She name anything else?”
He worked up an old look of Daddy’s and stared at her. She shrunk a couple inches. He gestured to the pantry. “Momma teach you to make grits?”
“What can I do?” Anna asked.
“Sit down and look pretty.”
She crossed her arms. But her fingers fidgeted, and he didn’t miss the glance she shot up to his clock.
“Or you can go take a real shower before I feed you and take you home.”
Surprised the heck out of him when she did just that.
“She might be okay for a Yankee,” Louisa said. She dumped water in a pot and brought it over the stove. “But you didn’t really marry her, did you?”
“Nope.”
“Gonna let Momma meet her?”
He scratched his head. Momma and Anna in the same room would be a mite bit more interesting than Louisa and Anna. Long as neither of them got any ideas. Much as he liked Anna Grace, he wasn’t interested in staying in anything long enough to watch it go sour.
He reckoned she wasn’t either.
They matched up nice that way. Plus, she was smart, she amused the dickens out of him, and last night had been worth the wait.
Thought he might’ve even seen a few colors beyond shades of blue and green sometime in there.
If she could handle him putting up emotional road blocks, he could handle her sticking around a while.
Maybe not long enough to have to meet his momma, but awhile.
Still, Louisa didn’t have to know that. “Ain’t decided yet.”
About the time breakfast was ready, Anna came back out, her straight hair darker and dripping on the ends. Jackson slid her a cup of coffee. She went to the silverware drawer.
And laughed.
Prettiest thing he’d heard all morning. “What?” he said. “It’s organized.”
“Nice try, but I have homework.”