His father encircled him in his arms, and Jackson felt some of the tension in his shoulders drift away, as if someone were removing one iron brick at a time.
Perhaps this forced vacation was a blessing in disguise. Because standing in his father’s embrace for all of two minutes did more to better his mood than any of the paperwork waiting for him back in the office. Maybe if he stayed long enough, he could cure himself of all that ailed him.
He was about to let that thought take further hold when he heard a distant knock coming from the back doorway.
“Sorry I’m late; these apple turnovers took a little longer than expected to finish.”
Jackson looked over his shoulder to see a familiar face. “Mrs. Eames?” He hadn’t seen his widowed neighbor in what seemed like years.
He watched her hug Kip after he took the platter of turnovers from her and then walked over to him and stretched out her arms wide. “Jackson Dean, it’s so good to see you again.”
He took a moment to marvel at her. She had to be in her sixties if not older, but the gleaming brown skin and the short pixie haircut concealed those years well. He didn’t know what magic fairy dust she was sprinkling on herself, but she certainly had a fountain of youth somewhere if she still looked the same as when he was in high school.
He pulled her into his embrace and hugged her close to him. He smiled as the faint scent of candied melon teased his nose. Even her perfume hadn’t changed in all this time.
When she stepped out of the circle of his arms, he stood there smiling and shaking his head. “Mrs. Eames, you still look amazing. What kind of sorcery are you using to still be looking like a beauty queen?”
She swatted her hand at him. “Chile, hush. I think that’s what the young folks would call some of that Black girl magic. We get better with time.”
“You certainly have.”
She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad to see you again. Now, let me go over here and check on your daddy.”
Jackson stepped aside and walked back over to the porch where Kip was sitting, sipping on a longneck. He pulled one out for himself, twisted the top, and took a large gulp. His eyes glanced over to Mrs. Eames and his father. There was something about the two of them together that registered as odd to him.
They’d always been friendly. Mrs. Eames often babysat Jackson and Kip when his dad had to work late when they were kids. She and her son, Holden, spent enough time at their house that Jackson owed a good bit of his culinary skill to her. So his father standing close to her and smiling shouldn’t have tripped any alarms for him.
But the smiles they were sharing, the heated glances, and the familiar way she laid a hand on his father’s upper arm seemed like a different kind of close in Jackson’s eyes.
He looked at Kip sitting next to him, his eyes bright with amusement as if he knew a secret that Jackson was unaware of. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
Kip glanced down at the sweating bottle in his hand before taking another sip of his beer. “Not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
Jackson looked on the other side of him again. This time, his daddy and Mrs. Eames were bumping shoulders and laughing at some private joke.
“The hell you don’t, Kip. Is Mrs. Eames the ‘lady friend’ Daddy wants to marry?”
Kip slapped him on his back and gave him a conspiratorial smile. Jackson turned and watched his father and Mrs. Eames again and saw his father snake an arm around her waist and pull her to his side, pressing what looked to be a sweet kiss on the side of her cheek. The move still seemed like another friendly gesture, except his father never removed his hand from Mrs. Eames’s waist. He kept it there, kept her there as if she was someone important. Someone he couldn’t let get away.
“Dammit all to hell.”
“Uh-uh. You will not ruin this for them. Those two are happy. And even if your cold heart can’t find a use for love, they have. They are gonna announce their engagement tonight. And after all they’ve both done for the two of us, you are gonna smile and give them your blessing. You hear me, Brother?”
Jackson had a smart-ass comment waiting on the tip of his tongue. Who the hell did Kip think he was in the first place, trying to push him around? He was the older brother; it was his God-given right to be the bossy one. But when he turned around and saw the intense glare, Jackson realized Kip was serious.
“I don’t want him to get hurt again,” Jackson said. “Her either. She’s been good to us. More of a mother than the one that ran out on us.”
Kip’s jaw relaxed, and he sat back into the cushions of his seat. “We don’t get to make this decision for them, Jackson. It’s on them. All we can do is support them.”
Jackson hated this. Not the youthful giddiness he saw in the pair as they continued to talk and tease each other in front of his father’s grill. Even he had to admit that was kind of nice. But he hated the worrisome hole he could feel boring into his gut, warning him to protect his father from being hurt again.
He sat back, stretching his legs out, trying to come to terms with the way his father’s life would change, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop him or protect him. Because if Jackson could protect any man from allowing a woman to get under his skin, it would’ve been himself. And since he hadn’t stopped thinking about Aja since he’d left her over a week ago, he figured he may as well sit back and do what his brother asked. If he couldn’t allow his own happiness, no need to destroy everyone else’s.
* * *
Jackson sat on the back porch with a hot cup of coffee and a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders to chase away the morning chill. It was still early, but that had never stopped him from coming out here before dawn.
He’d spent countless moments like this one in his past. Staring up at the moon for the answers the brightness of day would never bring.
