Chapter 57 Jackson
Jackson
Jackson’s compact Mercedes rattles as he flies down the interstate, barreling toward Dallas.
He had to get the hell out of Dodge.
He’s a wreck, barely slept. Every time he woke and shot up in his bed, he relived the whole wretched scene with Ethan, and each time, he felt his stomach quake, felt like he was gonna hurl.
It’s the middle of the work week, but his clients can wait. Charleigh can wait. He called her before he left—just so that someone would know where he’s going—and was relieved when she didn’t pick up.
She’d be able to read his voice, tell that something’s off, way off, and he’s not yet ready for all that yet. He’s still digesting it. Which is the biggest reason he’s heading to Dallas.
“Hey, so I’m going away for a few days, to Dallas, to unwind,” he said vaguely into her answering machine, “but if you need me, I’m staying at the Galleria.”
He splurged on a fancy room, but hell, Charleigh had paid him five grand in cash for throwing the party together at the last minute—and it was a giant headache to do so—so he deserves this. Along with a spa treatment and a fine meal at the fancy Italian place there.
Fuck it, bring on the carbs. He’s about to blow his whole diet, his whole fitness routine.
Why did he ever think he was good enough for a looker like Ethan? Not that Jackson’s not, but he’s no Ethan; Ethan is godlike.
He should’ve heeded Ginny’s warning: Anyone who brings a Bible into a bar and who looks like that… Watch out.
Why did he ever think that a Bible-toting man whose wife looks like she’s from the 1800s would actually ever be comfortable being gay? Pursuing anything with Jackson other than a drunken tryst?
But screw that, Jackson knows what he felt was real.
And not just on the physical level. He and Ethan have a very flirty rapport that goes beyond looks or attraction: They speak the same language about design, about craftsmanship. And no way is Jackson the first man Ethan’s been with.
He knows Ethan’s gay, or at the very least bi. And he also knows that their marriage is a farce. Maybe it hasn’t always been—they do have children together—but Abigail is banging Alexander, and Ethan is hooking up with Jackson. Not exactly a storybook romance or family values.
So, what gives?
He still can’t believe Ethan’s explosive reaction, his threat to kill Jackson if he told a soul. Ethan’s just lucky he hadn’t blabbed it yet to Charleigh. But, seriously, he hadn’t seen that blow coming at all. That cruel, ugly, hateful threat: You tell anyone, and you’re dead meat.
So, yeah, he’s going to Dallas to get out of that bonkers town for a minute, lick his wounds. But also, he’s on a mission. He’s going to snoop. Sniff around about Ethan.
He mentioned that he lived in Greenville. Jackson’s certain Ethan must’ve hit some of the gay bars there.
And he intends to find out.
It’s not that he still wants to be with him, not after that rage he flew into last night; it’s more to help process it. To confirm that what he had with Ethan was real. That there are other men he’s been with. And if so, how did he end things with them?