Chapter 17 Jackson
ten
JACKSON
Ipull into our driveway, noting a string of lights has gone out along the side of the garage.
Surprised the others are still lit because when one goes out, they all go out, I make a mental note to hang a new set tomorrow.
I open the front door and walk into our house, dropping my football bag at the corner of the room.
I did end up biting the bullet and sent a text to Adam asking to talk over coffee in the morning.
He responded back with a raised eyebrow and then a threat of ‘hurt her? I kill you.’ I assured him it was nothing like that, and he agreed to meet up.
“Don’t leave that dirty equipment right there for me to smell and trip over when I leave the house!
” she yells out. I look up and catch her at the stove.
She hasn’t turned around, just yelled at me, keeping her back to me, stirring what smells like spaghetti sauce.
She got the homemade sauce recipe from her mom and it’s to die for.
But she looks tense.
Time to go love on my girl.
I turn my hat backwards, come up behind her quietly and wrap my arms around her. “How was your day?” I speak into her ear.
“Fine.” She snaps out.
Uh oh, not fine at all.
I pull her flush against me and grind against her ass, holding her hips tight as I bite the spot behind her ear that always makes her forget her own name.
And nothing. She continues stirring the sauce in the pot like I’m not even touching her.
“Are you sure?” I ask, stepping away carefully. I’m in the danger zone right now.
“Yup.”
Well, fuck me. My phone rings and I step back further, still watching her, searching my brain for anything that I may have done. Was it our time at the venue? Were my little jokes not funny? She was fine when I dropped her at the flower shop.
“Hello? Yes, speaking. Oh, hey.” I listen. “Really?” I ask with a slight disbelief tone. Chess turns to me with a question in her eyes. I nod to her, a slight grin forming.
My eyebrows raise. “She said that?” Our eyes connect and now she’s just glaring back at me.
“Nope, you’re fine. I’ll work it out, it’s all good. Sorry about that, yup thanks for the call, ok bye.”
Tread carefully, Jackson.
I place my phone on the island, then plant both hands on it, flexing slightly, trying to draw her out of her mood. But all Chess does is watch my every move with a rancid look on her face.
“Do you need a good dicking down tonight, baby girl?”
She crosses her arms facing off with me, not a blink or even a blush at my words. “Next question,” she snipes out.
Oh, this is bad. I mimic her pose, crossing my arms.
“Let me rephrase.” I scrub my face with one hand, then cross it again. “Francesca Casanova, did you threaten our wedding DJ?”
“No,” she clips out. Jesus, these one- and two-word answers are killing me.
“No?” I ask in disbelief. “So, you didn’t tell the DJ that if he played the YMCA song you would kick him in the balls and then rip up his check?”
She holds my gaze, giving me nothing to work with but a daring stare. I go to move around the island, but she walks in the opposite direction.
“Francesca.” I say her name with authority, but it doesn’t faze her. I change direction and so does she. “You can’t run from me. In fact, you promised you wouldn’t. That ring solidifies it.” I nod at her hand with a smug grin on my face.
Charm her to death, Gage.
I quickly fake back to the left and catch her trying to get out of the room.
“Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She finally relents, sagging into my arms that are wrapped around her back, holding us front to front.
“It’s just a lot. There’s a lot to get done and he was pushing for a song list and when I said I didn’t have it finalized, he started naming basic, corny songs and I lost it.
” She shrugs and plays with the collar of my shirt.
I chuckle and squeeze her tighter ignoring the murderous look in her eyes.
“Listen, why don’t you let me hire a wedding planner to finish this up. I don’t want you so stressed out that you don’t enjoy it, and then make everyone else around you miserable, too.”
“No! Not another NDA! And not another chance for someone to blab. This day has to be perfect for us.”
There it is. Perfection. That is her number one concern about everything right now and if that’s what she’s expecting, it’s not going to make getting to our day any easier.
“Baby I don’t care about the NDA’s anymore. Fuck, if they want to spend the next week sitting outside the house trying to catch every glimpse of us that they can, let them do it. If they want to spend money on helicopters to hover over the ceremony, whatever. It’s their dime.”
“No, Jack—"
“Listen to me. I only want you. I don’t care if we get married in this kitchen, me in jeans and you in my jersey.” I wink at her, running my hands over her ass, “ONLY my jersey. I love you and want you to be my wife. I don’t care how we get there.”
She’s quiet for a moment, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “The girls called me breezy.”
When I frown in misunderstanding, she says, “You know, like Bridezilla! But with a gangsta twist, your sister thinks she’s the missing member of the Wu Tang Clan,” she finishes, rolling her eyes at my sisters’ nonsense.
I bark out a laugh and she hits my chest. I cover her hand and speak softly. She’s like a deer in headlights right now.
Approach with caution.
“Is that what this is about?”
“They were giving each other looks at the florist, like they were having a secret conversation about me. Then they called me Junior AAA, likening me to Adam. But Britt said I was edging him out for first in the running.”
I laugh again but then she breaks into tears.
“I just want it to be perfect! I’ve had lists for years on what this day would look like, but things aren’t turning out how I thought, and nothing is what I pictured and I’m still waiting for that perfect feeling to hit when I see something letting me know that’s it and it’s not happening, so I don’t know what perfect is supposed to look like anymore! ”
She cries this out all in one breath and I hug her close, rock her, kissing her head. “Baby it’s already perfect. We’re already perfect. I have you. There’s nothing else that compares.”
She sighs into me, wiping her face on my shirt. The need for perfection is driving her anxiety. How can I show her no matter how hard we try; perfection can’t be achieved. And she’s going to make herself sick trying to get there.
“Look at me.” I tilt her face towards mine with a tip of her chin.
“You’re my best friend and I still can’t believe you said yes.
” She cracks a smile. “Swear to God, Chessy, the fact that you chose me all those years ago and you’re still here?
Still choosing me? That’s love. Because I’m far from perfect but what we are together?
What our love is together? That’s perfection for us. ”
She snuggles in. “And honestly there’s no one else I’d rather bail out of jail for threatening our DJ, than you.” She smacks my arm. “I mean, really? You threatened to kick him in the balls, Chesty.” I tsk her, shaking my head.
She tries to pull away, but I keep her pressed tight to me. “I didn’t mean it.” I give her a look. “Well, I meant it, but I wasn’t really going to do it.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I just wanted him to know I was serious.”
I raise a brow. “Serious about his balls? “
“Jacks-off!”
I snigger at her use of my nickname. “Haven’t heard that name in a while,” I wink. “But there’s only one man’s balls you need to be serious about.” I bend at my knees quickly and throw her over my shoulder at her waist. She shrieks as I smack her ass.
“Now come on. You’re going to show me how serious you can be!”