The corners of Colton’s mouth curled into a sinister smile. “Jealous much, Dean?”
Jackson didn’t know if it was jealousy causing his body to tense at the idea of Aja spending time with another man the way she did with him. But he knew he didn’t like that the possibility existed.
“Aja didn’t invite me. Seneca did.”
Jackson opened his mouth to ask more about the invitation, but Colton knocked on the door, and all too soon, he heard footsteps nearing. He tabled the questions pinging around inside his head for another time and prepared himself to greet Aja.
When she opened the door, he realized he needed more than a few seconds to get himself together. She was stunning. Her hair was piled high atop her head with soft tendrils framing her heart-shaped face and the glint of what looked like gold metal pieces wrapped around a braid or two in different positions. He’d seen them before on women with locs or braids. But on Aja, they somehow appeared regal, a statement of her magnificence, not just something to decorate her hair.
He squeezed his hand into a fist to keep from reaching out and running his palm down the length of her skirt until he could feel that sultry brown swatch of skin exposed at the edge of the fabric. She’d put together an outfit that was fun, fashionable, and sexy as hell, and it made him question how long he would have to wait before everyone left and he could have her all to himself.
He cleared his throat, offering her an easy smile as he finally lifted his eyes up to hers.
She gave him a quick once-over, then looked away from him and focused on Colton. His comrade smiled at her and leaned down to place a quick peck on her cheek. “Thanks for letting Seneca invite me. I don’t think I’ve had a decent meal since we left here.”
“Go on and get you something to eat then. There are cocktails and appetizers set out on the back porch. Aunt Jo put some pulled-pork bruschetta on the table a few minutes ago. That usually goes quick, so I wouldn’t tarry.”
She opened the door wider, stepping aside to let him in.
“I don’t think I know what bruschetta is, but if it’s got barbecue sauce on it, I’ll eat it,” Colton told her.
Jackson shook his head as he watched Colton make his way down the hall toward the kitchen. “Please excuse my uncultured colleague.”
Aja waved her hand. “Trust me, Aunt Jo didn’t know what the hell bruschetta was either until she saw it on what she calls ‘one of them fancy cooking shows.’”
Jackson stepped inside and pushed the door closed, letting his eyes walk up and down her body, then back again, landing on her high-set breasts. “You look edible in that outfit. Was it all for my benefit?”
Her smile brightened as she shook her head. “No. It’s for me. If I don’t feel like butter in a hot skillet when I look at myself, how will anyone else see me that way?”
He took a few steadying breaths, attempting to push his need for her down. “I’m wearing slacks. Not the best material for concealing arousal. How about you stop trying to make me embarrass myself in public?”
She winked at him and then walked down the hall. He could swear there was an extra swivel in her wide, round hips as she placed each foot in front of the other. He groaned as quietly as he could; even her walk was irresistible.
By the time they stepped out onto the back porch, Jackson had gathered a little self-control and pushed his wayward thoughts to the back of his mind. There was always later, and he intended to make use of any time he could steal when the party was over.
He stood in front of the doorway, scanning the small group gathered on the back porch and the immediate clearing beyond the back of the house.
He recognized many in the group. He’d broken bread with most of them right here on the ranch, including Mat Ryan, who was currently beckoning Aja to meet him on the far side of the porch.
His stomach roiled slightly as Aja excused herself and headed toward Mat. Each step she took toward the man was a reminder Jackson needed to get his emotions in check where Aja and this man were concerned. With Eli Bennett in jail for his crimes against Aja, Jackson couldn’t use Aja’s safety as an excuse any longer. It was time to fess up: the only reason Mat was still a problem for him was because Aja seemed to care for the man. And if he were being honest, Jackson didn’t want her caring for anyone else but him in that respect.
Get it together, Jackson. Even as she’s standing in front of him, he’s looking across the yard in Brooklyn’s direction. There’s nothing going on between Aja and him. You’re just a jealous fool.
Contrite over his juvenile attitude toward Mat, he went back to panning the group and noted a few people he didn’t recognize. They were probably guests of guests. He was about to glance in Aja’s direction again when he heard someone calling his name.
“Jackson, it’s good to see you again.”
He found Aja’s uncle, Judge Henry, walking toward him. The judge pulled Jackson into an empty corner of the porch, looking around to make certain no one was near. “I wanted to thank you for all the help you gave my niece. I know from experience that Aja can be obstinate when she believes she’s right about something.”
“Turns out she was right. She didn’t need to listen to me; I needed to listen to her. The true hero turned out to be my father and his security equipment. If we hadn’t caught an intruder on camera, we would never have gotten the goods on Bennett.”
“I’m still glad you were here.” The judge cleared his throat, looking away as if he needed a moment to gather himself. “She’s so much like her mother, my late sister. She’s headstrong, independent, never wants to ask for help, and will take care of everyone around her but herself. She’s so strong, so able, sometimes her aunt and I forget that she needs looking after. I would never have forgiven myself if Bennett had harmed her.”
Jackson stilled himself against the shiver that ran through him. The thought of what could’ve happened during her attack still scraped against his insides, making his heart race with tension.
“I know what you mean. If I hadn’t been in the house…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even want to complete the thought. Not then, and definitely not now when they were connecting, discovering what could be between them.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
