Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TUCKER
My skin crawled, and the closer we got to the bunkhouse, the worse it got.
This felt wrong. Logically, my brain knew what Jackson said was true.
But my heart? My heart was a wasteland of memories and feelings for a man who only existed in the broken fragments of the life he left behind.
Maybe that was why I was so protective over the things that held even an ounce of him.
Like in some weird way, I could piece him back into existence one object at a time.
Jackson offered to drive, and after the bickering I’d done with both him and Marcy, I couldn’t muster the energy to protest. The rain had picked up some and it pattered against the windshield as we made our way along muddy roads, my heart tapping out the same rhythm against my ribs.
When we finally pulled up before the single-story building, the churning sea of my emotions nearly made me nauseous.
Somehow, Jackson knew I needed a moment, and he sat back in the driver’s seat after putting his truck into park.
We both stared out the windshield in silence, the image of the place he called home looking blurry through the repeated assault of raindrops against the glass.
“Raleigh used to love the rain,” I found myself saying.
“Oh, yeah?” Jackson replied casually as though the topic of my dead husband wasn’t the ever-present elephant in the room.
I nodded, not knowing if this was a stalling tactic or if Jackson just brought out the desire to share in me. “He said rain was nourishing, not just to the plants, but to us too. Good for the soul.”
My farmhand made a hum in the back of his throat, and from the corner of my eye, I could see him shift slightly to turn his attention my way. “I like that.”
“When it would come down real hard, he would open the front door and just lean against the frame to watch the rain fall.” A small smile spread over my lips, the visual of him so clear in my head.
“I used to bitch and complain about all the water getting inside the house, but then he started putting a towel down inside the doorway.”
Jackson let out a small huff of laughter. “Dedicated to watching the storm like some old man, huh?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “I used to joke he’d make better friends with the folks at the nursing home than he would with other people his age. Sometimes he felt like such an old soul. But he was my Storm Chaser.”
“I think I would have liked him.”
Something about that statement hit me square in the chest, never mind you’d be hard pressed to find someone sunshine incarnate Jackson Arness wouldn’t like.
“He would have liked you, too.” I swallowed.
Without letting myself wander any further down the path those thoughts would lead me, I opened the truck door and jogged up to the porch.
The cooling rain pelting against me felt almost soothing on my overheated skin.
The slam behind me told me Jackson had followed, and only a moment later he was standing beside me on the porch.
We made our way inside silently, and he pulled out his key to unlock his door before pushing it open and motioning me inside. I took a second to scan the space.
It was still the same generic gray bedding that all the other rooms sported, along with a thick comforter for the cold nights, but now a neatly folded quilted blanket laid at the foot of the bed.
It was made up of vibrantly colored patchworking, and it stood out in stark contrast to the neutral color on the rest of the bed.
His suitcase had been neatly situated by the bed, and a Stetson hung on the outside bedpost on the headboard, just waiting to be traded out for the flat bill trucker hat he wore today.
There were a few others sitting on the bedside table along with a pair of sunglasses and the box of earplugs.
Everywhere I looked, little indications of Jackson’s presence were scattered around the room, and for some reason, it settled a piece of me knowing he truly had taken to making this place his own.
Jackson pulled out a duffle from under the bed and started rummaging through it before he produced a small toiletries bag. Inside was a necklace with a thicker, silver chain and a pendant on the end which he quickly slid free and tossed back inside.
When he got back to his feet, he offered the chain to me, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “You can put your ring on this and wear it. That way it’s always with you and there’s no worry about it getting lost.”
“What about your necklace?” I asked, eyeing the duffle on the ground.
“Do you have something else to put that pendant on?” I hadn’t seen what it was, but Jackson didn’t strike me as the kind of man who’d hold onto something just for the sake of it.
It either meant a lot to him so he kept it safe and off his body, or it was something he only pulled out for the right occasion.
He shrugged. “I can get a new one.”
“I don’t want to be taking it if it means something,” I protested, shifting a little uncertainly on my feet.
“It’s fine, Tucker,” he soothed, stepping a hairbreadth more into my space.
The dim lighting in the room made his normally hazel eyes appear like the deep green of a quiet forest. It was so peaceful, and the reassurance within it swept over me.
“Besides,” he said as he took another step closer, “I kind of like the idea of having something of mine on you at all times.”
My breath caught in my lungs at the same time my heart started slamming against my chest because I liked the idea of it too.
Maybe I should’ve had more resistance to the idea, considering the item in question was going to be used to hold my late husband’s wedding band, but it felt…
right. Like a piece of Jackson woven into this story of Raleigh and I.
Swallowing back the swirl of emotions that thought evoked, I nodded my head. Something flashed in Jackson’s eyes almost imperceptibly, something heated, but they quickly softened as he glanced down to my hand. “Let’s get that ring off before the swelling gets any worse.”
I’d almost forgotten about my injury—between the figurative mental hoops I’d jumped through to even make it to this point and all thoughts narrowing down to one thing the way they normally did when I was alone with Jackson—but with the mention of the swelling, that dull pulsing ache began to rear its head in the forefront of my mind again.
Lifting the hand in question, I sucked in a slow breath to steel myself.
I knew what was to come with removing the band from my finger. The pain would be more than physical. It wasn’t like it would be the first time it’d come off since it’d been put there, but it would be the first time since Raleigh had passed.
My eyes stared down at the golden ring that represented every ounce of love and devotion I had to my late husband and thought back to the moment he’d slipped it on.
How wide his smile had been and the flush in his cheeks, the small droplets of moisture clinging to his lashes as he fought back happy tears.
The words he’d spoken in his twangy southern drawl as he slipped in onto my finger in front of our friends and family.
Gently, I placed my thumb and forefinger on the band and attempted a small tug.
Immediately, a sharp stab came from behind my ribs, making me let go of the warm metal.
Every cell in my body was screaming out against this plan, as though Raleigh’s ring was an integral part of my core anatomy.
As though removing it would cause a full system shutdown.
The very mental image of removing the ring myself was enough to have bile rising in my throat, and I had to suck in a slow breath through my nose to keep from vomiting.
“You okay?” Jackson nearly whispered, his concern clearly laced through his words.
I nodded, shifting some like if I could find better purchase on my own two feet, I’d be in a better place to withstand the emotional toll I was about to experience.
After a second to collect myself, I lifted my fingers, moving to wrap them back around the band, but…
I couldn’t. My mind was nothing but the flashing lights of a railroad crossing, the bar coming down to prevent me from being crushed under the weight of the freight train of my grief.
“Is it painful?”
He probably meant in the physical sense, but the ache within my soul was so much more tortuous than my injury. There were no words I could say that would adequately explain that, though, so I made some noise of agreement, and thankfully Jackson didn’t press.
Instead, he took my battered and bruised hand into his own, cradling it like it was something precious. “Can I try?”
My eyes whipped to his, expecting to see sympathy or maybe even pity, but all I saw was the resolute expression of a man willing to hold up the world if it was asked of him.
I’d been stuck at a fork in the road with Jackson more than once before.
I’d continually chosen the path I’d traveled before, knowing where it would lead me. It was safe. It was familiar.
But somehow, I kept finding myself standing back before two choices—knowing where my heart and mind should be taking me but feeling the tug of something… more from the way less traveled. This was one of those moments.
It should be me taking the ring off. This was my commitment to Raleigh. His memory was my cross to bear, and a man who’d never seen the crystalline blue of his eyes or heard the gruff rumble of his laugh shouldn’t be the one to take this step. So then why did it feel like I should let him?
Why did this feel like another way Jackson was intertwining himself with not only me but also Raleigh?
My dead husband may have been the one to slip this ring on me, but Jackson would be the one to take it off.
Not to break that vow, but to preserve it.
To lace a piece of himself through it so it would always be safe.
The burning in my chest finally clued me in on my need to breathe, and I sucked in a lungful as I gave a subtle nod to his request. My heart was pounding in my ears, every muscle in my body going rigid as Jackson lowered his gaze to my wedding band.
His skin felt molten hot against my own, and I could tell he was trying to be gentle as he slowly tugged the metal from my finger.
It fucking hurt. In the very real, physical sense. As the ring moved down my finger, searing pain ricocheted through me, and I hissed through my teeth as I tried to keep still. Jackson sent me a small apologetic look but continued to slowly ease the band back until it slipped completely free.
Instantly, I sagged as the tension holding my body still seeped from me. Jackson wasted no time, sliding one end of his chain through the wedding ring. When his gaze returned to mine, there was something visceral there. A carnal desire driving forward but held back by the barest of threads.
Without any words, he moved around me. Our eyes locked on one another until he walked outside my vision, and I tried to slow my suddenly rapid breathing.
His eyes were burning, an intensity in them that was so outside the simplicity of what had just occurred; they were full of want and need, and I could feel them on me as he rounded my body.
Even without vision, I knew the moment he stood behind me, like the tethers between us were on a cellular level.
It was bone deep, making goosebumps rise over my skin.
And then he was on top of me. His chest was pressed to my back, and the warmth of him pierced through me, causing me to suck in a breath of air.
He lingered there, our bodies fused together, and all I could do was focus on keeping my breathing even until the first brush of cool metal slid over my skin as he clasped his chain around my neck—the chain that carried Raleigh’s ring. That realization made a shiver roll down my spine.
When the necklace was settled into place, I closed my eyes, almost anticipating the crash that would follow something so profoundly intimate and oddly intense, but then I felt his hands.
His callouses snagged along the fabric of my jacket as he traced over my shoulders, down my back, and then rested on my hips.
Hot breath fanned over the base of my neck, the press of his body against mine as he pulled me flush against him almost overwhelming.
“You realize we’ve claimed each other? No one else may know. But you and me? We’ll know. You’ll wear my necklace, and I’ll wear your jacket, Tucker.” Those plump lips skimmed along my rapidly heating skin as he spoke, and I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that slipped from me at the words he said.
He was right. Despite it all, I knew he was right.