Chapter 4 Jackson
JACKSON
“What’s next, boss?” Richie, one of our ranch hands, turns to ask my brother.
“Nothin’.” Ryan slides the reins along his horse as he dismounts. He lifts his chin to the sky and squints at the vast blue. “Weather’s gonna hold for a few more days. I say we wait till Monday before moving pastures.”
“Hell, yeah.” I grip the fence as I swing my leg over one side and jump down from my perch, grinning at the prospect of an early quitting time. “That mean we can head out?”
“Yeah.” Ryan nods, narrowing his gaze. “Not that you were here most of the day.”
“Maeve’s got me running the rental.”
I wonder how Rosalie is doing—and what she’s doing at my place.
“Funny how you always seem to be busy when we’re doing hard labor,” Richie teases.
“Can’t help I was born under a lucky star.”
“Lucky?” My brother chuckles, shaking his head. “More like lazy.”
I know he’s joking, but it bothers me a little.
Not that I’ll ever let on. Anyone who grew up as the youngest in a big family knows you can’t hint at your weak spots.
If you do, relentless teasing and ridicule are sure to follow.
I flash my brother and the rest of the crew a smug smile.
“I’ll have you know it takes an immense amount of effort to find creative ways not to be here when y’all are doing the most labor-intensive tasks. ”
“Get out of here.” My brother waves me off as if he’s sick of my shit. Hell, he probably is. He turns to Richie. “Let’s get the horses settled for the night, then let the rest of the staff know they’ve got the rest of the day off.”
“Yes, boss.” Richie grins, taking the reins from my brother and leading the horses into the barn.
I wave and start walking to my truck.
“Hey, Jackson,” Ryan calls to my retreating form.
“Yeah?” I turn, walking backward a few steps before I slow to a stop.
“You want to join us for dinner?” He takes a few strides closer. “I’ve got ribs smoking and Val’s making Mom’s mac ‘n’ cheese.”
Normally, I’d jump at the opportunity. It gets old cooking for myself and eating by myself. Those are probably the only two things I hate about living alone. But Rosalie is back at my place, and by our interaction earlier, I suspect she could use some company.
“Not sure.” I shrug in a non-committal way. “I might swing by. I’ll let you know.”
My brother’s brows rise as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat from his brow. “You’ll let me know?” he says incredulously. “What the hell? You got a hot date or something?”
“Or something.” I waggle my brows.
“Must be pretty good if you’re passing up ribs and Mom’s mac ‘n’ cheese.”
“Maybe I’ve got someone waiting in my bed right now,” I tease. It’s not a complete mistruth. Rosalie will be sleeping in my bed all week, but she sure as shit ain’t waiting for me. “So, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Let’s say Val’s having a bad day. Is there anything you’d pick up to make her feel better?”
He considers my question. “Depends on the kind of bad day.”
“Okay.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. “That’s totally unhelpful.”
“Well, if she’s had a hard day because of work, I’d probably force her to go take a bath while I make dinner.
If it’s that time of the month, I’d stop by the diner to surprise her with one of Marnie’s chocolate cream pies.
And I guess if I just wanted to brighten her day, I’d pick a bouquet of fresh flowers from the garden. ”
“Bath. Chocolate. Flowers.” Simple enough. “Thanks.”
“This mean the unthinkable’s finally happened?”
“And what’s that?”
“Did you finally go and fall in love?”
I hate how hopeful he looks at the prospect. My perpetual bachelorhood is a joke to him and the rest of the family, and I’m sure they have even more to say when I’m not in the room.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m still unattached.”
“Live it up, little brother. Better you than me.”
“You jealous?”
“Hell, no.” My brother shakes his head. “Don’t you get tired of sowing wild oats? Don’t you want to settle down? Start a family? You might be the baby of this family, but you’re not gonna be young forever. In fact, if I recall, you’ve got a big birthday coming next month.”
Yeah, I’ll be thirty. So? There’s no rule that demands I ever fall in love. Hell, the hurt and devastation love has caused my parents and siblings over the years doesn’t make it all that desirable.
“Kid-free and stress-free. You’ve forgotten how good it feels.”
“I’m tellin’ ya’.” My brother shakes his head. “You’re missing out.”
“On sleep? Money? Gray hair?” I laugh. “I think I’m good.”
“There’ll come a time when you’ll wish you could take back those words.” He chuckles smugly. “I can’t wait for the day a woman has you wrapped around her finger.”
“Never gonna happen.” I walk away, and throw up my middle finger.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.” He laughs after my retreating form.
I don’t take the bait. We can go round and round all day.
This is one area we’ll never agree. It’s annoying when my brother gets on his high horse, telling me I’m missing out when I’m perfectly happy.
Not everyone wants his life. And sure, maybe I’m not as opposed to the idea of settling down as I claim, but that’s to keep my sister and everyone else in this town from playing matchmaker.
Is it wrong that I let everyone assume I am allergic to responsibility and monogamy? Maybe. But I’ve yet to meet anyone who makes me want to turn in my man card.
As I climb into my truck, my phone rings and Maeve’s name pops up on the caller ID.
I set the phone on the middle console before I start the engine and hit the speaker button.
“Hey, Maeve.”
“Hey, baby bro,” my sister says. “Did you get the firewood delivered?”
“Oh, yeah. Took care of that earlier.”
“Okay. Good.” She sounds stressed, her words racing through the line. “I didn’t expect them to arrive until later this afternoon, and who burns a fire in the middle of July? Can you imagine? Hopefully, they didn’t give you any trouble.”
“It’s all good.” I don’t tell her they were mad. Or that I accidentally double-booked the rental. “You know me. I turned on my charm.”
“Must be nice, getting everything you want.”
“It’s my superpower.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says as one of my nieces or nephews wails in the background. My sister has her hands full with four children, all under the age of eight. I honestly don’t know how she does it.
“If they ask for anything else, just let me know,” I offer. “It’s just down the road. I don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” She sighs. “I appreciate you helping out. It’s just a lot lately, new baby and all.”
“Yeah, maybe you should slow the presses. Give your uterus a break. It’s not a contest, you know?”
I can picture her smile through the line. “Probably the only contest I’d win in this family.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
I probably shouldn’t even ask, but having some background information might help me better navigate this week with my temporary roomie. The fact it might also aid in getting her to sleep with me again is just a bonus.
“What’s Rosalie’s deal?”
“No.” Maeve’s tone is harsh. “Absolutely not.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Jackson, I love you, you know that, but please, please, stay far away from my friends.”
“Ouch.” What does she expect me to do? I’m not a monster.
“Look, Rosalie is not for you. She’s a mom. Edward is her entire world. If she dates anyone, she needs someone who can step up. Who can commit. Not that she’d ever give you the time of day.”
“Damn.” Didn’t realize my sister thought so lowly of me.
“It’s not personal. You’re just not her type.”
“What is her type?”
“Fictional men.”
“Very funny,” I deadpan.
“I’m not joking. She reads more than anyone I’ve ever met, and she goes on about characters like they’re real. Which, hell, I get it. Book boyfriends set the bar.”
“Book boyfriends?”
“Besides, she’s a very private person, and I don’t see her letting someone in. Especially not you.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m a bad guy.”
“I didn’t say that. But you aren’t really known for settling down. Or monogamy. And my friend deserves someone who makes her life better. Not complicated and messy.”
“Damn. Okay.” I’m more irritated than I have a right to be.
Maeve’s not wrong. It’s not as if I’ve ever had a steady girlfriend, or have any intention of changing that.
I get what my track record says about me.
Still. It doesn’t stop me from wanting Rosalie.
Her vehicle comes into view as I close in on my place. “I gotta run.”
“Jackson.” Maeve draws out my name.
“Yeah?” I pull my truck next to Rosalie’s and put the gear shift in park.
“Stay away from her.” My sister sighs. “Promise me.”
That’s not really a promise I can make, what with her living in my house for the next week. “You’ve made your point,” I tell my sister, maybe a little too sternly.
“You know I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you, too.” I know she does. We say our goodbyes and I end the call, checking my reflection in the rear mirror before I open the door and hop down from the cab.
It’s strange, knowing there’s someone inside my house, waiting for me at the end of the day. I mean, she’s not waiting for me, per se. She’s probably dreading the moment I return. Is it bad that the idea of a little verbal sparring puts a bounce in my step as I make my way toward the house?
I remember Ryan’s advice as I pass the wildflowers growing near my porch steps, and stoop to pick a handful.
When I step inside, I look around, hoping to see my house guest. I take off my boots by the door.
I need a shower, but when I glance out the kitchen window, I notice Rosalie reading in the hammock out back.
Wanting to talk to her, I slip my feet into an old pair of sneakers and head out the back.
“Hey.” I lift my hand in greeting when she lifts her gaze at my approach.
“Hey.” She closes her book and sits up, swinging her feet off the hammock to steady herself on the ground.
“These are for you.” I shove the misshapen bouquet her direction. “I saw them and thought of you.” That’s sweet without being too much, right?
She frowns as she accepts them. “Thanks?”
Her reaction is not at all favorable, and I feel a bit like a fool. Fucking Ryan. I should know better than to take advice from my older brother.
“Don’t tell me you have something against flowers.”
“What if I do?”
“That’s ridiculous.” I stare at the bouquet in her hands and frown. They’re not all that impressive. In her hands, with the roots still attached to several, they appear more like weeds. I flash her the smile that has gotten me out of many awkward situations. “Every woman loves getting flowers.”
She pushes to her feet and shakes her head as she laughs.
“What?”
“Does this work for you?” She motions from me to the flowers. “You what, decided to pull these on your way inside and I’m supposed to what, fall on your dick later in appreciation?”
My jaw falls open, and I feign shock. I mean, it’s not all that far off. Sure, my main objective was to cheer her up. But did I think the gesture would help get in her good graces and maybe lead to some extracurricular fun? Hell, yeah.
“I was trying to brighten your day.” I reach to take back the flowers. “Give me those.”
She pulls them away. “No. These are mine. You gave them to me.”
“Oh, so now you like the flowers?”
“They’re a little sad.” She shrugs. “Like me.”
“They just need some water.”
“Don’t we all.” Her sigh is almost slight, but I take notice. She studies the flowers. “I like them just as they are.”
“I’ve got a mason jar inside to put them in.”
“Okay.” She nods, and reaches over to pick up her book.
“You don’t have to come inside unless you want to. I can put them in water if you want to stay out here and read.” I actually feel bad for interrupting. She looked so peaceful before I came out here.
“Okay,” She glances at the sky before handing over the flowers. “I’ll stay out here a little longer.”
“You need anything?” I ask, taking a few steps back.
“I’m good.”
“You sure? I can get you some water, or a glass of wine?”
“Jackson, I said I’m good. You don’t need to wait on me.”
“I’m just being hospitable.” I flash her a grin, but it doesn’t chase away her frown. “I just wanted to let you know I am back. I’m going to grab a shower and then I’ll start dinner.”
“Oh, you don’t have to cook for me. I brought food.”
“I’m already cooking for myself. Besides, I saw what you packed. Please don’t tell me you were planning to survive the entire week off cheese, bread, and wine?”
“It’s good enough for the French.”
“I love cheese and bread, and wine too. But those are appetizers, darlin’. Not a main course.”
“Says you.”
“Says the dictionary.”
“You’re quoting the dictionary now? Wow.” I swear I catch her smile before she forces her frown back in place.
“I’ll ring the dinner bell when the food’s ready.”
“You have a dinner bell?”
“This is a cattle ranch.” I lift my brows as if I’m offended she even had to question that.
I don’t actually have one, but I’ll find something to humor her when it’s time.
In fact, I am making it my personal mission to collect as many smiles and laughs as I can from her.
She doesn’t give them out freely, which makes earning them even more meaningful. I do love a good challenge.