Chapter One #2
“A little. I mean, one of my sisters is an interior decorator, and it’s rubbed off on me.”
“That’s cute. Are you all close?”
His smile widened, and his dark eyes sparkled like the moon dancing on the waters below.
“Actually, we are. But they all live in Delaware, where I’m originally from.
I’m hoping to get them up here with their families for the Fourth of July.
It would be a lot of fun. My sisters are all pretty loud and very protective of me. ”
“Really? Isn’t it the brother who is supposed to defend their sisters’ honor?”
“I’m the baby.”
Laughter floated easily from her throat.
She enjoyed Jackson way more than she should.
For the last year, she’d admired him from a distance, but she wouldn’t let herself get too close.
He was the kind of man who could break through her carefully crafted defenses, and she wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone.
Not yet.
Not until she knew that she’d given her little girl a better a life.
Since her father died, she hadn’t had much time for dating. Getting her PhD had been one hell of a ride. She still didn’t have time for a man, but she could use a friend. “The youngest of six and the only boy. Perhaps we should talk about that and how it’s affected your adult life.”
“Don’t start your therapy stuff with me.” He pointed to the broken mug on the table. “Can I get you a refill?”
“I was hoping to see you this morning. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“That sounds ominous.” Jackson had a rugged look about him. The deepening wrinkles around his eyes indicated a man who had seen a few things in his life. She figured him to be in his late thirties or very early forties—not that much older than her. Not that it mattered.
He wasn’t too tall, maybe five-ten. And he had a kind heart and didn’t mind showing it. If she were any other woman, she’d probably be falling at his feet.
Instead, she just drooled over him in private.
“I’ll be right back. I just put a fresh pot on,” he said.
She stared at the side of his house, avoiding the lake and the boat. She had overreacted, but it wouldn’t be easy seeing a constant reminder of what her father had done to her or what she’d been forced to give up.
“Here you go.” Jackson handed her a cup. The bitter aroma filled her nose like pure, unsweetened cocoa. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
She laughed. “I’m actually having dinner with my stepmother, but maybe we can have a drink after.”
“Are you actually agreeing to a date?” he asked with wide eyes and a big, goofy smile.
The man was too cute for his own good.
“Not a date. Just a drink with a friend. Say around nine? Right here? We can build a fire.”
“Sounds great to me.” He raised his mug.
“Can I ask you a work-related question?”
“Sure,” Jackson said.
“Do you ever take on cases for friends?”
“All the time. Why?”
She stole a peek at the sailboat. That night had changed her life in more ways than one. “I’d like to hire you.”
“For?” He set his coffee on the railing, easing closer, leaving his arms dangling at his sides.
He must have taken a ton of psychology courses because he knew exactly how to put someone at ease. Anyone would bare their soul to this man and not even know they were doing it.
She let out a puff of air. The only person she’d ever spoken to about her daughter had been Annette. Even her mother couldn’t bear to hear about it, always telling Shannon that she’d been a horrible teenager and to pray for forgiveness.
“Two things, actually. I don’t like doing this, but a...a friend of mine missed a lunch date on Friday, and I haven’t been able to reach her all weekend. She’s never done that, and I’m a little worried. Could I trouble you to just check on her or something? I don’t mind paying you.”
“I can do that,” he said, but the way he tilted his head indicated that he wasn’t buying the friend part.
Shit. She could get fired for that one.
“I’m just concerned, and I want to know she’s okay.”
“You just want me to get a visual? Or do you need me to contact her?”
Shannon looked at the sky for an answer. Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew that something wasn’t right with Belinda, and she couldn’t let it go. “Just a visual. Her name is Belinda Montgomery, and she—”
“Name is all I need. If I want more, I’ll call,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. And no need to pay me. Now, what’s the second?”
“This one is a little bit more detailed, and I’ll insist on compensating you for your time.
” She reached for her pendant, running her finger up and down the feathered sides.
Not a day went by that she didn’t wear the necklace.
It drove her mother crazy, but only because of where it had come from and the fact that Shannon still had a relationship with her father’s second wife.
“If it makes you feel more comfortable, your case will be confidential. The only other person who will know the details, or your name, will be Katie, my partner.”
“I can’t say that makes me feel better. This is pretty personal and not easy for me.
” But she wasn’t going to turn back now.
She just needed a few deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth.
Slow and controlled. “I want to find the child I gave up for adoption.” Her fingers trembled over the silver jewelry dangling from her neck.
Her gaze darted toward the parking area, focusing on Jackson’s shiny pickup truck.
A diesel. It had rumbled many a late night, loud and proud.
But it always calmed her nerves, even when it woke her up.
Jackson was one of the few men who always made her feel safe.
“You want me to find the kid you gave up?” Jackson’s tone had an edge she’d only heard when he got upset with the lawn guy for ruining his rose bush. Jackson hadn’t ever yelled at the groundskeeper, but the anger lacing his words was more terrifying than any screaming match could be.
Shannon swallowed the thick lump in her throat. This was turning out to be harder than she’d thought. Her fears over being judged ran wild, and she knew that she read too much into Jackson’s attitude. “This may sound odd, but I just want to know if she’s okay. That she was placed in a good home.”
He raked a hand through his long hair. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to say no. I don’t do adoption cases under any circumstances.” He turned his back and leaned against the deck with his arms folded across his chest.
Closed-off. And the tension that filled the air nearly choked her.
The therapist in her wanted to ask probing questions to tackle the problem at hand.
To figure out why adoption cases were a trigger for him.
But she reminded herself that he wasn’t her client, and this was about her finding her daughter and getting some closure for her past.