A blend of sadness and fear resided behind her eyes as she whispered, “No.”
My inner voice screamed at me not to release the words resting on my lips, but with the overwhelming need to protect her, a feeling I didn’t fully understand, I gave them life.
“We’ll work on that.”
12
For the rest of the day, the only thing I could think about was Jackson saying, “We’ll work on that.” For a man who barely tolerated the sight of me, I didn’t understand why he’d offer to help me. What exactly hislessonwould entail, I had some idea, but not the full scope. Would he show me a couple moves and go back to basically ignoring me, only talking to me when forced?
The more I reflected on our interactions, the more I realized he initiated most of them, all while being unfriendly. He was the one who approached me—naked, I might add—when he thought I’d been brought in to have sex with him. Okay, perhaps that instance wasn’t a good example. But hewasthe one who walked up to me, asking why I was there when I showed up for work on my first day, and he was the one who knocked on my door when I’d had a nightmare, asking if I was okay. And he was also the one to engage in conversation when he found me on the landing when I needed a dose of fresh air. And again, when he approached me earlier to find out why I was upset after having talked to Mitch on the phone.Talkedwasn’t the correct word, as I mostly listened to him harass me, warning me against going through with the divorce.
I dismissed the barrage of worry about my interactions with Jackson. Mentally going back and forth about someone I barely knew was exhausting. I had more important things to worry about. My soon-to-be ex-husband for one.
I didn’t want him to find out where I worked and show up here or at my apartment, a place that was quickly becoming my solace, my haven. A tiny sense of security barreled through me, and it had everything to do with the trained fighter who lived next to me. I shoved aside the notion, however, not ready to admit that I’d started to rely on Jackson in some small way.
I retreated to my apartment after I’d finished work, took a shower, and threw on some comfy joggers and a simple pink tee. I grabbed my wallet, keys, and cell from the side table and headed for the door. My dad and Abby were expecting me for dinner. I ran the risk that Mitch would stop by while I was there, but I wasn’t going to allow him to steal any more time away from my family. He’d accomplished enough of that when we’d been together.
After locking the door behind me, I moved toward the narrow flight of wooden steps, stopping when Jackson appeared out of nowhere, heading straight for me. His eyes were on me as he approached.
With each step he took, my body tensed, a mix of excitement and anxiety intertwining within me. My breathing grew shallow, my lungs struggling to capture the oxygen that seemed to escape me in his presence. How would this interaction go? Could I handle another one of his rude comments?
“No pajamas this time?” His deadpan expression belied the touch of humor weaved into his voice.
Relieved he wasn’t being mean, I briefly peeked down at myself. “These are second best.”
“Where are you off to?” he asked, moving up the stairs. We were at eye level even though he resided on the step below mine.
“My dad’s house. I told him I’d come by for dinner.”
The way his brown eyes seared into mine made my stomach flip. To say I was confused by my reaction to this man was an understatement. But instead of delving yet again into trying to dissect my every thought where he was concerned, I returned his assessment. My gaze roved over every delectable feature of his gorgeous face, from the slight bump in his nose to the scar by his eye to his tempting lips. When his tongue wet his bottom one, I stole a breath of air and trapped it in my lungs, releasing it seconds later when his chest deflated on a sigh.
“Have a good time.” His arm brushed mine as he ascended the staircase. “And, Sophie?” I turned my head to look up at him, loving the way the rasp of his voice wrapped around both syllables of my name. “I’ll show you a few defensive moves after my training tomorrow.”
He disappeared before I could either thank him or refuse his offer.
“How is the job going?” my dad asked. He dished out a helping of spaghetti and handed me the plate, wiping a spot of sauce from his finger. “I bet you’re happy to finally be putting your schooling to use.” I’d only told Abby about the change in my job duties, intending on telling him as well, but I never got around to it.
“There’s been a small change in regard to what job I’m doing, but everything should rectify itself soon.” I was uncertain as to what or how much to reveal, so I gave him a generic explanation.
“The important thing is that you have a job you enjoy,” he responded, flashing me a smile. “You do enjoy it, right?”
My dad was an electrician and had gone out on his own years ago. He tried to convince me to join him, but the profession didn’t call to me.
“Sure.” The moment I answered, Jackson’s image popped into my head, and for as hard as I tried to erase it, I failed.
“I’m sure you do,” Abby replied, winking at me as she shoveled food into her mouth. I kicked her under the table, and she managed to wince and smile at the same time.
If my sister kept up her antics, our dad would become suspicious and start asking all sorts of questions. I didn’t trust her not to mention Jackson, and as soon as that happened, I’d receive a lecture about not jumping back into another relationship and how I needed to be by myself for a while, especially since I wasn’t even divorced yet, all of which would be futile because I had no plans on dating anyone for the foreseeable future, least of all my new boss.
After we finished dinner, my sister and I remained at the table while our dad prepared dessert. His famous apple crumble pie already had my mouth watering. The clinking of dishes indicated we only had a minute or two to talk before he returned.
“Jackson offered to teach me a few self-defense moves.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I properly gave them consideration.
“Why?”
“Because he overheard me on the phone with Mitch. The conversation upset me, and I couldn’t hide my reaction quick enough. Plus, when Jackson started asking questions, I didn't dismiss his concerns like I should’ve.”
Abby tapped her finger against her bottom lip. “He might be exactly what you need right now. Nothing like a gorgeous rebound to get you back in the game.”
