Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
JACKSON
Jackson didn’t know where they were going as he pulled them out from under the cherry trees. All he knew was that there were too many people nearby, and he didn’t want to share this moment with Zoe with anyone else. He wasn’t thinking about how bad of an idea this was.
Zoe clasped his hand, letting him guide her away from the glow of lanterns and the hum of music. He moved with long, purposeful strides, his heart hammering, her heels clicking against the pavement as she hurried to keep up.
“Stop—wait—where are we going?” she asked between laughs, breath catching on the words.
Jackson turned and suddenly she was right there in front of him, the chiffon of her dress brushing against his legs, the pink blossoms in her hair trembling. They’d stopped just outside her flower shop; he could see the desire in his eyes in the glass window behind her.
“Somewhere I can do this,” he murmured. Jackson knew this time was different.
This wasn’t him getting swept up in the moment.
This was him disregarding the reasons why they couldn’t be together.
None of those had gone away; they both knew that.
But he was making a conscious decision to let go with her, just for tonight.
His hand slid up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing along the softness of her jaw. Her skin was warm, silken, and the tremor beneath it made his chest tighten. He bent, closing the distance, and kissed her.
Her lips parted under his, soft and pliant, and he deepened the kiss. She tasted of strawberries, champagne, and something that was just Zoe. His hand slid to the back of her neck, and when she gave the faintest sigh against his mouth, it nearly undid him.
She fisted his shirt, clutching it in both hands like she was afraid he might pull away. The intensity of it made him chuckle into the kiss, though his body was far from calm. She wanted this as badly as he did; the same heat was surging through their veins.
He angled his mouth over hers, claiming her again, slower this time—savoring the slide of her lips, the way she lifted up on her toes to meet him. His tongue brushed hers, tentative at first, then deeper when she answered with a needy sound that made his cock throb against his suit pants.
If they weren’t careful, they’d start something right here in the middle of Oak Way. The street was deserted, the whole town at the wedding, but he wasn’t going to press Zoe against the glass of her flower shop no matter how frayed his self-control was.
He pulled back, breathing hard. Zoe’s lips were kiss-swollen, her eyes wide and shimmering, burning desire written plain across her face—a mirror of everything he was feeling.
“Jackson…” Her voice was breathless. “Let’s go somewhere else…”
Jackson was surprised when she led him across the street.
He thought maybe they would just head upstairs to her apartment.
He still wanted to lean her against the back of the couch, or maybe toss her onto her bed and cover her body with his, the weight of the mattress dipping around them.
He imagined the heat of a shower after, Zoe slick and soapy in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted her against the tile wall to take her again.
He had wanted her for so long that the fantasies stacked one on top of another until he could hardly breathe.
Tonight, he wouldn’t think about tomorrow, or the rules, the line he’d insisted they never cross.
None of that mattered. Couple of the Year, the planned break-up. None of it.
Tonight was about surrender, letting her in, just as she’d asked for.
She knew, just as he did, that he still wasn’t ready for a real relationship.
But maybe he would be one day, and whatever happened next, this would be one blissful night.
Raw, beautiful passion—everything he’d buried, finally breaking free.
“I want this to be as wild as this feels,” she whispered, pulling him toward the lake.
It was darker, down by the water. The only light came from the moonlight, reflected in silver beams across the rolling waves of the water.
Along the bank, a stand of weeping willows swayed in the breeze; their branches danced to the rhythm of the soft wind.
Zoe led him there—toward the largest tree, its canopy spilling around them like a curtain.
The only sounds were the steady rush of the lake and the unsteady rhythm of their breathing.
Jackson let her pull him deeper into the shadows. He would have followed her anywhere, but here, under the veil of moonlight and willow branches, felt like the only place that had truly ever existed.
“Jackson,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “I want you. Just you. Just us.”
He cupped her face again, brushing his thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got me now. So let me love you,” he whispered.
The branches were closed around them like a curtain. The world outside faded; the wedding could’ve been miles away.
Jackson pressed Zoe back against the tree, his mouth finding hers again. Her lips were soft and insistent. He kissed her like a starving man, like he’d been holding back for years—and in truth, he had.
Her hands slid up his chest, clutching his jacket, then pushing it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the mossy ground without a thought. Her fingers worked at his tie next, fumbling, impatient. He caught her wrists gently, stilling her.
“Slow down,” he rasped against her mouth. “I want to feel all of this.”
She nodded, but her hips arched against him, betraying her urgency.
Jackson’s hands skimmed her sides, bunching the chiffon fabric until his palms found her bare thighs. He dragged the skirt higher, higher, baring skin that gleamed pale in the moonlight.
“Jackson…” Her plea was breathless.
He sank to his knees, kissing a trail up her thigh, her dress falling over his shoulders as he went underneath. The earthy scent of moss mixed with the faint perfume of her skin.
With a careful hand, he parted the lace of her panties, the backs of his knuckles grazing her thigh. He felt the tremor in her body, the way she leaned into the tree for balance, as he began to taste her.
Zoe’s gasp tore into the quiet, her hands clutching his shoulders as though she’d been waiting her whole life for this. Her fingers dug into him, and the sound of his name on her lips—shaky, startled, wanting—shot through him.
He didn’t rush. He drew her in with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, circling, retreating, then teasing again until her thighs quivered on either side of him. Every soft sound she made, every shuddering breath, coaxed him deeper, slower, as though he were learning her body note by note.
She rocked against him, tentative at first, then helplessly, her hips seeking him. The sound that broke from her throat lit him on fire. He held her steady with his hands, guiding her as she surrendered to him.
When she finally cried out, breaking apart against his mouth, he held her firm, drinking in every pulse and quiver, unwilling to let her go until the last shiver had ebbed.
Jackson rose slowly, his chest heaving, his mouth finding hers in a deep kiss. He tasted her there, on her lips, and it wrecked him all over again. Every part of him wanted to bury himself inside her. But he forced himself to breathe, to wait.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, brushing her hair back.
Zoe’s breathing steadied, but her eyes still shimmered with aftershocks of her climax. She lifted her hands to his chest, fingers fumbling with the first button of his shirt.
Jackson froze, then let out a shaky breath and nodded. He wanted this. God, he wanted her.
She slipped the button free, then another, her knuckles brushing over his chest. Each touch sent a jolt straight through him. His muscles jumped under her fingertips, betraying him, and a low sound escaped his throat.
Her hands roamed lower, spreading the fabric open, revealing inch after inch of skin. His abs tightened instinctively under her touch. Every nerve seemed to light up, as though her fingers were rewriting him.
She rose on her toes, kissing the hollow of his throat, her hand sliding across his chest. It felt so good—too good—being touched by her like this, after years of wanting. His body pressed harder into hers, desperate for more.
Zoe dropped to her knees, hands sliding over his thighs as she unbuckled his belt. Jackson’s breath caught, his head falling back against the willow trunk when she freed him.
“Jesus, Zoe…” His voice was hoarse.
The first slide of her mouth around him was fire and silk all at once. He groaned, low and guttural, his hands tangling in her hair. Every nerve lit up, pleasure shooting through him in waves.
He’d imagined her like this more times than he could count, but reality stripped him bare. He tightened his grip on her hair, just to keep himself from falling apart too quickly.
It was useless, as Zoe worked him so thoroughly, that despite how hard he fought back, how much he wanted to prolong the pleasure, he was powerless to stop her determination.
She tasted every inch of him, worshipped him in her mouth with the same reverence he’d shown her.
When he released, she drank every drop with a moan that had him seeing stars all over again.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, she rose from her knees. He cupped the back of her head and pressed a slow kiss into her hair. “You okay?”
She made a faint sound of agreement. “You?”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to steady his breathing. “Better than okay.”
They stayed like that for a while—her against his chest, the night wrapped around them, the willow branches whispering overhead. Her hand moved lazily against his shirt, drawing small circles that sank through fabric and skin until he could feel the echo of every touch in his ribs.
It should have been perfect. It almost was.
Then the stillness shifted. His throat tightened, breaking the fragile calm. His demons were there still, lingering in the silence. He could feel them coming closer.
He straightened a little, his hand slipping from her hair.
“Zoe,” he started. “What happened here… it was—” He had to stop and swallow. “It was incredible. You’re incredible.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide and searching. “But?”
He raked a hand through his hair. The words tasted like ash.
“I know you know this already. But I just want to be clear, I’m still not ready for a real relationship, not yet.
That hasn’t changed. I wanted to let go tonight, to stop overthinking everything.
But I still can’t get past it. The noise, the memories.
I don’t want them polluting us, this thing between us.
I need to protect you from that. I’ve got work to do, and I don’t know when—if—I’ll ever be the man you need. ”
Her expression shifted, tightening. He could feel the change in her even before she spoke.
“So what was this then?” she asked slowly. “A test drive? Therapy?”
“Zoe—”
“No,” she cut in, stepping back. “You keep saying you’re protecting me, but you’re not. You’re protecting your fear. You think keeping me out is noble, but the truth is, you’re letting the darkness win.”
The words hit something raw. His jaw locked before he could stop himself.
“You have no idea what darkness is.” His voice came out sharper than he meant, his voice raising much more than he ever thought it would with her.
“You have no idea what it’s like to wake up and still be there—in it.
Every day. You could never understand. You don’t know that kind of darkness. ”
Her face went still. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was already done. For a second she stared at him, and he couldn’t read what she was thinking—hurt, anger, maybe both. Then she shook her head once.
“Maybe. But I’ve always been there for you, Jackson. I’m trying to understand. And I’ll never have a chance if you don’t let me in,” she said quietly.
She turned and walked away, the hem of her dress brushing the grass. He didn’t move.
Jackson stayed where he was, one hand braced against the rough bark behind him. The outside air felt colder now. He’d thought that for one night he could forget.
Instead, the pain was louder than ever, and so was his self-loathing.
Once again, he’d hurt the person he loved most in the world.