Chapter 40
FORTY
JACKSON
Jackson would’ve stayed with Zoe all day.
Hell, he’d never move again if it meant he’d always feel that good.
But he didn’t want to suffocate her—literally or figuratively.
He’d been raw with her. Vulnerable. And he didn’t regret it, not one second, but he also didn’t want her to feel like she was suddenly responsible for carrying his entire happiness.
Besides, the woman had a business to run, not to mention she was hosting the local crafting club at the Cherry Crush Flower Shop in a few days. She had things to do.
They’d spent the rest of the evening together, simple and easy—eating, drinking, talking. And when he dropped her off at her apartment with another kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow, his chest had been so full it was a wonder it hadn’t split wide open. This woman was a miracle.
Now Jackson sat on the steps outside of his cabin, the wood creaking under his chair as he leaned back, a cold beer resting against his thigh.
Out beyond the porch light, the fields stretched dark and endless, touched by silver where the moonlight spilled over furrows.
The barn was a hulking shadow against the horizon, its tin roof glimmering faintly where it caught the light.
Crickets sang in the tall grass, and every so often an owl called low and lonely from the trees.
A warm spring wind drifted past, carrying with it the faint smell of damp earth and lilacs.
Headlights swept across the yard and gravel crunched under tires as Liam’s truck pulled in. His brother climbed out, long strides carrying him toward the porch.
“Hey, man, forget how to answer your phone?” Liam asked, twisting the top of one of the beers in the six-pack he’d brought along.
Jackson lifted his beer in a half salute. “Been busy. Eleanor Davenport came out today.”
“I heard,” Liam said, his grin widening. “Mom was on the phone an hour ago, telling me all about it. Told her I’d stop by and watch the game with Dad.” He bumped Jackson’s shoulder. “So? How’d it go?”
Jackson exhaled. “We got it. Full funding. Local Blooms is happening.”
Liam’s brows shot up. “That’s incredible. Zoe must be over the moon.”
“She is.” Jackson’s voice warmed. He looked out over the fields, dark and silver under the rising moon. “We both are. It’s… good. Feels right, you know? Like all of it finally means something.”
Liam studied him for a long moment. “I assume that means you guys worked things out?”
“I’d say so.” Jackson thought about Zoe earlier that day in the meadow, and the intimacy that followed.
“Ha! I see how it is.” Liam shook his head.
Jackson huffed a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Maybe,” Liam said, sipping his beer. “But I’m not wrong. And you love her.”
The words felt like a direct hit, but softer this time. Jackson didn’t flinch. He let them settle, turning them over like something he finally recognized as his own. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Liam said, grinning wide. “Didn’t think I’d see the day.”
Jackson chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “You and me both. I fought it for a long time. Thought I was doing her a favor, keeping her at a distance. But she’s… she’s it. She’s the one who makes all the noise in my head go quiet.”
Liam’s expression relaxed, all teasing gone. “You tell her that?”
“More or less.” Jackson looked back toward the fields, where the moonlight skimmed the tips of the grass. “She’s still guarded. I can’t blame her. I hurt her. But this time, I’m not walking away.”
“Good,” Liam said simply. “Because if anyone deserves peace, it’s you. And if anyone can give it, it’s Zoe.”
The brothers fell quiet, the night settling warm and thick around them.
“What’s Cassidy up to tonight?” Jackson asked, finishing his beer.
“Working. New chocolate recipe. I offered to stay and help, but she kicked me out.” Liam grinned, shaking his head. “Those aprons get me in trouble every time.”
Jackson shook his head. “Yeah, thanks for that image, really needed it.”
“You’re welcome,” Liam shot back. “You should try it sometime—pretty sure Zoe would look good in an apron.”
Jackson gave him a flat look over the rim of his beer. “Careful, you’re still my brother, and I can still knock you on your ass.”
Liam leaned one shoulder against the porch post. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. Hell, the way Zoe looks at you half the time, I’m surprised you two haven’t burned down that flower shop yet.”
Jackson snorted, trying—and failing—to hide his smile. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“Maybe.” Liam shrugged, getting up to head back to his truck. “But Cassidy is not complaining.”
Jackson rolled the bottle between his palms, a reluctant smile tugging at his mouth.
With Liam gone, the night felt still again, the only sound the hum of crickets in the tall grass.
Jackson leaned against the porch rail, the ghost of a smile lingering.
He thought about the way Zoe smiled. The way her hands moved when she talked, how she still smelled faintly of lavender after a long day in the shop.
He took another pull from his beer, already picturing the soft glow spilling from the flower shop windows, the scent of soil and blooms hanging thick in the air. She’d still be there, working too late like always, music playing low while she rearranged vases or sketched out arrangements.
And if he showed up… if he locked the door behind him and kissed her the way he was thinking about kissing her—slow, deep, no distractions—he knew exactly how it would end.
With her pressed against the counter, laughter caught between their lips.
Her fingers fisting in his shirt. That quiet, breathless sound she made when she let him in.
Jackson exhaled hard, angling his head back toward the stars. He wasn’t sure if it was madness or love, or if there was a difference anymore. He didn’t care, as long as they were together.
The only thing was, he knew Zoe so well. And he could tell there was something still between them. It wasn’t only that she was guarded; there was something deeper, left unsaid. What was she hiding? And when it came out in the open, would it tear them apart?