19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Lily
I t’s hard to believe that three months have passed since everything changed. Since the night Jackson told me he loved me, and I, against all odds, said the words back.
It was not just an act of saying, though. It was an act of admittance. Of acceptance. Of a truth that had been established a while before I realized it even was a truth.
From that moment on, we’ve been inseparable. After the fight, Will finally gave up. He left town the very next day, probably desperate to avoid a lawsuit from Jackson which would have been well-warranted since Will started the fight. But Jackson didn’t want any more distractions thanks to my ex.
We’ve relished every moment. Walks in the morning, dates upon dates, each more lavish than the last, so many flowers, just as he promised. Most nights we have dinner together whether it’s at my parents’ house or with Kayla or all of the above. However, we still save time for just us two.
The holidays didn’t help in slowing things down. Holidays are the most romantic time of year, I’m now convinced. With Will, it always felt like a struggle, trying to balance our bills and travel and everything else.
With Jackson, all it takes is a snap of his fingers and everything’s sorted. I was absolutely mortified when I gave him a watercolor I had painted of the view from the lookout of Cider Bay loop trail and in return, he gave me earrings shaped like bumble bees, encrusted with yellow diamonds. It felt like a complete imbalance. However, if you asked Jackson, he’d say my watercolor was the best gift he’s ever gotten.
No wonder it’s hard to keep my hands off him. I never realized just how sexy kindness and compassion could be, but after many years of not having it, it’s become my greatest aphrodisiac.
Not to mention, Jackson is a very giving partner. After all, he’s been waiting all these years.
I don’t think I’ve had as many orgasms in my whole life as I’ve had in the past three months.
I’ve quite nearly moved into his house, although accidentally. I’ve got not just a drawer, but a whole closet committed to my things, even if the few items I have take up only part of a single rod. I’ve got the toothbrush, all my hygiene and hair products, and the fridge is always stocked with the foods I like. I never even have to ask. Once Jackson sees something, it miraculously makes an appearance every time.
The sky is the limit when you’ve got a man with a bank account like his. And that’s not good for keeping my feet on the ground. Not at all.
In fact, he’s somehow cajoled me into letting him make the primary investments in my tattoo parlor. We’ve been looking at locations, aiming for an early summer opening.
Life has started to look a lot brighter. Even my shifts at the drugstore aren’t plagued by feelings of inadequacy or disappointment. Now, drawing my tattoo ideas at the counter is not a mark of hopelessness. It’s purpose instead.
Because one day, very soon, I’ll be able to achieve my dream.
Thanks in part to Jackson, but if you asked him, it’s all me.
Always me.
Today, I’m working on some bird flash tattoos. Though flash tattoos aren’t custom and are chosen off the wall, I still want them to have my flair. And attention to detail has always been the hallmark of my work.
I shade the beak of the female cardinal with a reddish-orange pencil. I like her best of all the birds I’ve drawn so far. “Perfect,” I say, then rip the drawing out of the book. “Lift up your arm and flex.”
Kayla, who has been standing across from me at the register eating while I finish up the drawing, lifts her arm and flexes. “This is embarrassing,” she moans. “I have no muscle.”
“Sure you do. Besides, it’s just to get an idea of scale.” I hold the drawing up to her bicep.
She regards the image and smiles. “That’s cute.”
“You want me to do it for you?”
“I don’t know. I’d be nervous to have one somewhere I can’t hide,” Kayla says with a demure roll of her eyes.
I laugh. “You know your grandfather can’t be mad at you if you get a tattoo now.” I’ve done several for Kayla over the years. Mostly quotes from books and poems, all in secret spots that someone wouldn’t be able to see unless she was naked or wearing an itsy-bitsy bikini, which isn’t Kayla’s style anyway.
“I know he can’t, I just . . . ” Kayla trails off, a faraway look in her blue eyes. She can’t hide those looks from me though, especially not when they’re magnified through her glasses. “You know, I can’t shake the whole premise of why he didn’t like tattoos.”
I smile sympathetically. Kayla and Jackson’s mother is the reason for that. Of course, tattoos don’t account for drug addictions and misdemeanors. But it was one thing on a list of things that Peter Roy did not want his grandchildren engaging in. The only reason he never gave me crap for it in the couple of years he knew me as a tattoo artist before his death was because he was friends with my parents and saw that as a completely different can of worms. “One day when you’re ready. I’ll give you the best tattoo ever.”
“I know you will,” she says with a loving smile.
I grab the sandwich she brought for me, carefully unwrapping the wax paper. “I’m surprised you’re not afraid of needles like Jackson.”
“He told you about that?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Kayla laughs. “I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, just . . . takes some getting used to that I’m not the only one who holds his secrets.”
I get a small flutter in my belly. I won’t tell her he told me about that fear before any of the dates or ‘I love yous.’ But I’m honored to know he was already giving me intimacy then, and I didn’t even know it. “You’re still his sister. No replacing that.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not jealous,” she snickers, then bops me on the arm softly. “I’m happy for you guys. Really.”
If she was jealous, I wouldn’t blame her. Jackson and I monopolize each other’s time, as tends to happen in the honeymoon of a relationship. Except this doesn’t feel like a honeymoon, it feels much deeper than that. I take a big bite of the sandwich and moan. “Mm. Roast beef. The best,” I say with a mouthful of food.
The door dings open and, surprise, surprise, in walks Jackson. He wears a ski bib under his sporty winter coat which dangles open. For someone who has spent most of the morning outside in the dead of winter, he’s running hot. Sweaty forehead, red face. “Hey, girls.”
My entire body tightens with affection.
Not to mention this morning he woke me up with an erection pressed against my back which led to some of the best, laziest sex I’ve ever had. I’m still flushed from that orgasm.
He holds up the coffee holder in his hand, all four slots filled with various sizes of coffee. “Got coffee.”
I swallow down my roast beef and then smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Kayla shakes her head. “I thought you’d be used to it at this point.”
I flush. I’m not. Really not. Will never went out of his way. And while I try not to compare Jackson to Will, sometimes it’s impossible not to reflect on how little I was accepting while giving all of myself. Now, I’m cherished and adored, and I feel it, even when it’s just a cup of coffee.
Jackson sidles up to Kayla. “Medium oat milk flat white, two pumps of vanilla, a sprinkle of cinnamon,” he says, handing Kayla a cup.
“ Thank you,” she says liltingly.
I eye the tray. “Is that a cold brew?”
Jackson laughs and threads his hand through his sweaty hair. “I’m so fucking hot.”
“Yes, you are, but that wasn’t my question.”
Kayla groans. “Eww.”
But Jackson appreciates the compliment. He leans in to kiss me.
“I just took a bite of my sandwich,” I warn.
“I’m sweaty. I think we’re a good match.”
He gives me a peck over the counter which every cell in my body savors, before pulling out a small Americano for me, then his cold brew.
“How was the . . . trek? Is that what you’d call it?” I ask.
Jackson nods. “Yeah. It was good. My calves are on fire though. Been a while since I’ve been cross-country skiing. Is your dad busy? I brought him a decaf.”
I tilt my head to the back. “Go ahead.”
As Jackson goes to see my father at the pharmacy, Kayla gives me a look. “You’re so in love with him.”
“Is it obvious?” I ask.
“Desperately,” she replies but smiles in return.
Kayla and I chat a bit longer over our sandwiches before Jackson returns, although he’s slow as he clomps through the store in his heavy winter boots. His eyes are glued to the screen of his phone, brow furrowed. Work stuff. Always work stuff.
“If you keep frowning, your face will stay that way,” Kayla taunts.
Jackson doesn’t look up. “Whatever, Kay.”
Kayla and I exchange a look. Jackson isn’t normally so entrenched you can’t pull him away from his phone. I cock my head to the side. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s . . . ” he sighs heavily, then scratches the top of his head. “I have to head up to Banff next week.”
I scoff. “Banff? Canada? Why?”
Jackson clicks off his phone, finally bringing his attention back to the conversation. “An old partner of mine wants to discuss his new business venture and . . . ” He shrugs. “I owe the guy.”
“I thought you didn’t start new ventures anymore,” Kayla observes quietly. “That’s why you came back to Cider Bay.”
“Yeah, of course, I just owe the guy. To hear him out. Danforth invited me onto a project when I was still really green and—” Jackson holds his hands out as if to say, ‘That’s all there is to it.’
I have to admit, I’m uneasy that his way of life is just to get up and go when some random guy calls upon him. Shouldn’t there be a conversation with me at the very least?
Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
“You should at least take Lily with you. She deserves a vacation,” Kayla says.
I shake my head, embarrassed that maybe she read my mind. “No, I need to take care of the store.”
From the back, my dad shouts out, “I second that! Lily deserves a vacation.”
“Dad! Why are you listening?!”
Kayla gestures to me, the smoking gun. “Case in point.”
“You want to, Lil?” Jackson asks, a smile appearing on his face. “That would make it feel a lot less like work.”
“As long as I’m not in the way or—”
“Hell no,” Jackson replies. “I’d love that.”
The word love in any context with Jackson still makes me gooey inside.
Kayla claps her hands. “That settles it.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “What is it with you always inserting yourself into these situations?”
“I’m the reason you two got together, and you know it. Your firstborn child better be named after me,” Kayla says before sipping her coffee in triumph.
Jackson and I exchange a look so heated I think my face is on fire. I look away just as quickly. What the hell was that feeling? I guess I’m getting to that age where my body is getting biologically desperate. I try to make up for the weird moment by saying, “Don’t be ridiculous, Kay.”
But with how quickly everything’s been moving . . . I’m not sure how ridiculous that thought actually is.