Chapter 5 Rosalie
ROSALIE
I’m completely entranced by my book. The writing and the story captivate me to the point I might as well be the one who discovered she’s betrothed to a Duke she’s never met. My heart races with each paragraph, and when the plot takes an unexpected twist, I can’t turn the pages fast enough.
“AIEEEEE!”
The screech of a wild animal pierces the air. I practically jump out of my skin.
“What the—!” I startle and drop my book onto my chest. The hammock swings and I temporarily lose my sense of balance. I grip the cocoon of fabric and whip my head toward the wailing sound.
A sound that stops the instant my eyes meet Jackson’s.
“Couldn’t find my dinner bell.” He pulls a device away from his mouth and holds it up with a grin.
“Jesus Christ,” I swear under my breath as I calm my pulse. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s for hunting.”
I blanch, climb out of the hammock, and start for the back porch. “I didn’t realize you were a big hunter.”
“I’m not. Mostly use it to mess with my nieces and nephews.” He strides to the door and holds it open for me. “And now you.”
“Lucky me.” I make a note to steal that senseless contraption and hide it before he has the chance to scare me again.
“Hungry?”
I step inside where the delicious aroma of food fills the house. I didn’t think I was hungry, but my stomach gurgles loudly before I can answer him. I’m slightly mortified.
“I take that as a yes.” His eyes twinkle with humor. “Good. Make a plate and sit down.”
“Thank you.”
In the kitchen, there’s a pan filled with a mountain of roasted veggies and chicken.
I scoop a small amount onto my plate and hand him the serving utensil. “You really didn’t have to do this. I brought food.”
“I have to eat, too.” He shrugs, adding another big scoop to my plate before he fills his. I don’t even have a chance to object. “It’s the least I can do after I fucked up your plans.”
I move to the table and take a seat.
Jackson sets his plate across from me. “Besides, you didn’t bring food.
You brought snacks.” I brought plenty of food.
Though, I guess not enough to sustain someone like Jackson who works hard labor all day.
“Were you seriously planning to survive off bread and cheese all week?” He walks over to the fridge and retrieves a pitcher of water.
“I’ve survived on less.” It’s the truth.
“Is this that viral Girl Dinner thing my sister is always going on about?” He takes two glasses from the cupboard and fills them while singing, “Girl dinner, girl dinner.”
“Don’t judge Girl Dinner.” I pick up my knife and cut my chicken into bite-size shapes.
“I’d literally starve. Or pass out.” He puts the pitcher back in the fridge.
“That only proves women are stronger than men.”
“Now, that’s something we can agree on.” He winks as he sets one water glass near the edge of my plate and the other at his.
His hair is still damp from his shower, and the locks curl and fall forward in a way that makes me want to reach out and brush them back.
God, it’s criminal how good he looks. I cast my eyes downward so I won’t be tempted to stare.
“Want a glass of wine? Or I have beer in the fridge if you prefer?”
There’s a discomfort that bubbles up at his offer.
I’ve taken care of myself for so long, I’m not used to people doing things for me.
Even though I can recognize it’s perfectly normal to offer to get someone a drink, it sets off warning bells in my mind.
In my experience, people are only helpful or nice when they expect something in return. I don’t want to owe anyone anything.
“You don’t need to wait on me, Jackson.”
“Let’s get one thing settled.” Jackson grips the back of his chair and leans forward to level me with a serious stare.
“When you’re staying in my house, I’m going to treat you like a guest. Because that’s what you are. My family raised me with manners, and one of those is offering you a beverage. Got that?”
His directness is unnerving. Almost as if he can read my mind and wants to settle my fears before they run wild. I’m also not used to being around people who see through me. I put my mask of indifference firmly in place so it doesn’t happen again.
“So, let’s try this again.” He lifts his brows. “Rosalie, can I pour you a glass of wine with dinner?”
“Yes,” I huff.
He grins as if he’s won this round. “Any particular bottle?”
“Any in the case I brought is fine.”
I force my nerves to settle when he turns his back. Not every interaction is a competition, but with Jackson it feels that way. I don’t like him having the upper hand.
I turn my attention to the generous portion on my plate. It looks and smells amazing. Better than anything I packed, though I won’t admit that. As I take my first bite, it takes all my self-control not to groan. The food is seasoned and cooked to perfection.
“How is it?” Jackson comes over to the table and sets my glass of wine down before pulling out his chair to sit. He grins, already knowing my answer. “Good?”
“Very good.” Who knew Jackson Wilder was a skilled chef?
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.” I spear a bite of cauliflower on my fork. “How come you never cook for family events?”
His eyes widen as if I’ve caught him off-guard and he takes a moment before he answers, almost as if he’s considering his response. “How do you know that I don’t?”
I guess I don’t know for sure. But Maeve, Val, and Sarah have welcomed me into their homes for many get togethers. Edward and I are basically honorary family members at this point. There hasn’t been a holiday or birthday party that I’ve ever seen Jackson walk in with food or man the grill.
“I pay attention.” I take a sip of wine to clear my throat. “And no one’s ever mentioned you bringing a dish.” I point at my plate with my fork. “Believe me, if you showed up with food tasting this good, one of your siblings would mention it.”
“Damn.” He leans back in his chair and stares at me as if he’s looking for something. Though I don’t know what. “You really do pay attention.”
The last thing I want to do is give him the impression I’ve noticed everything about him since the day we met. “So, why don’t you ever bring food?”
“Honestly? Because no one’s ever asked.”
“Are you serious?” I want to laugh, but refrain. “Why not volunteer?”
“I don’t know if you’ve caught on, but my siblings don’t really expect me to do anything but show up.”
“Ah.” I nod and roll my eyes. “You’re the baby and they still coddle you. Got it.”
I don’t mean to be so direct, but by his laughter it doesn’t offend him much.
“You could say that.”
“Aren’t you a grown-ass man?”
He tips his chin, a Cheshire smile pulling at his lips. “You know I am.”
He’s not playing fair, bringing up that night. My composure almost slips as memories dance in the back of my mind. But I won’t let him distract me from the point I’m attempting to make.
“Jackson, they’ll always treat you like a child if you continue to act like one.”
“Wow.” His brows shoot up. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m not trying to stir the pot. But it’s a shame to be this talented and not share it with the people you love.”
“I’m sharing it with you,” he teases.
My heart almost stops at the implication. He couldn’t possibly mean—?
“Rosalie, breathe.” His laughter booms. “It was a joke. Oh my God, you should see your face right now!”
Of course he didn’t mean anything by it.
“Okay.” I roll my eyes.
“What?”
“Do you always say something ridiculous or make a joke when the conversation gets too serious?”
He freezes and meets my stare, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Jackson appear unnerved, but this comes close.
“You.” His chuckle washes over me, sending a thrill down my spine.
“What about me?”
He won’t look away, and I’m having a hard time holding eye contact. The intensity of his stare is filled with something akin to admiration and astonishment, and that’s something I’m not familiar with.
“You always manage to surprise me.”
Discomfort spreads through my body and I drop his gaze. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“Oh, it’s a compliment.”
“Okay.”
My body feels a little too hot. I reach for my water glass and gulp it down. It does very little to cool the heat coursing through my veins. This. This right here is why I was worried about staying in his home. I don’t trust myself when it’s just the two of us.
I focus on eating, and thankfully, he does the same. Our companionable silence cools my anxiety, and the food fills my belly. I’m secretly grateful he insisted on putting more food on my plate.
“So,” Jackson clears his throat once his plate is clear. “I have tomorrow off.”
“Oh.” I can barely relax around him for a simple meal. How am I going to survive an entire day in his presence?
“Don’t look so damn disappointed.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You might cause actual damage to my ego.”
“Is that really possible?”
“I think we should go do something.”
“Go?” My eyes widen. He’s got to be kidding. “I can’t.”
“Come on. You can’t stay in this cabin all week.”
“Oh, I can and I will.”
“If you’re worried about being spotted in the wild, I promise where we’re going there won’t be a soul for miles.”
That is what I’m concerned about. But also, this feels like a pity invite. He needs to understand that I am perfectly satisfied to spend the day reading by myself. I don’t expect him to play host on his day off. “You don’t have to entertain me. I’m fine on my own.”
“Of course you are,” he agrees. “But hear me out. I might not be a parent, but I have enough nieces and nephews to understand how much work it is. How you live for your kid every day and do whatever they need. Right? When was the last time you took a week for yourself?”
“Never.”
“Exactly.” He shrugs. “Let me spoil you a little. You deserve it. Besides, I’m concerned that after living here seven years, you haven’t seen more than the inside of the library.”
“Not true.” A little true. And sure, I probably could use a little self-care, but I’m not good at doing things for myself. Any free time or resources go to my son. I feel guilty putting my wants above his, so I generally don’t.
“Humor me.”
“Don’t you have plans? What do you usually do on your day off? You don’t have to change your routine just because I’m here.”
“Believe me, I have nothing better to do. Come on, Rosalie. Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not scared.” I cross my arms in defense. He thinks I’m scared? I refuse to let him believe that.
“So, say yes. I promise, spending the day with me won’t be completely horrible. And who knows? If you let yourself, you might even have a little fun.”