Anna gulped.
Jackson let go of her long enough to greet his momma with a kiss to the cheek. Before he could make introductions, his momma wiped her hand on her pressed white apron and then extended it to Anna. “Welcome, my dear. I’m Deb. Louisa has told me so much about you. How was your drive?”
Her hands were smooth and warm, and her accent was softer and less pronounced than her children’s, as if she used it as a weapon in her arsenal instead of merely living with it every day.
“Very nice, thank you.” Much to Anna’s amazement, her voice didn’t wobble with the fear that her breath would tarnish the silver. Nor did it hint that she noticed Deb had said Louisa talked about her, rather than Jackson.
And why would he? They weren’t committed or anything.
She recognized the twitch of his momma’s lips, but her gray steel gaze was silently conducting an inquisition. Anna wanted to blurt her birthday, parents’ and sister’s names, high school and college GPAs,and the situation surrounding her first marriage and divorce.
Instead, she reminded herself that she had asked to meet this woman, and this would probably be the only time she ever disgraced the house with her common, middle-class, divorced presence. But she had to force a smile. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”
“Oh, no, dear. You’re our guest.” She picked her knife up and resumed chopping. Efficiently. With a little bit too much verve.
“Louisa around?” Jackson asked.
“She’s at Stone’s, but she’ll be back for dinner. Craig and Maura are bringing the girls over. Would you please go hang out the swings? Such a nice day today.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nudged Anna, but anI didn’t excuse you bothlook from his momma stopped them.
“Anna, dear,” she said, authority dripping through the Southern in her words, “can I get you something to drink?”
A muscle in Jackson’s neck visibly tightened.
Uh-oh. “Oh, no thank you. I’m good.” Anna angled closer to him.
“We have a fresh pitcher of sweet tea.”
It was a struggle, but Anna kept her nose from wrinkling.
She could’ve sworn his momma saw it. The older woman seemed to take particular delight in her lack of appreciation for the nectar of the Southern gods. “I hope you like stewed okra,” Deb said. “We’re positively swimming in it. Had such a good season last year, we’ll be eating it out of the freezer for months.”
Anna had tried okra at Kaci’s insistence a few times already. While she liked to think she was open-minded, at the moment, she was positive she’d gotten divorced and ended up in Southern hell.
“Do sit down,” Jackson’s momma ordered. “Make yourself comfortable. Jackson can handle the swing.”
“Sure can, but I promised Anna here a trip down the slide.” Jackson’s drawl flared, but not in the comfortable telling-stories-with-Lance-and-Kaci kind of way. Nope, this was his fake redneck act. “Wouldn’t be right gentlemanly of me to notshow her a good time.”
Something shuttered closed in his momma’s eyes, but she aimed a lip smile at Anna. “We’ll chat over dinner.”
“That’ll be nice,” Anna said.
Jackson led her out the back door to the massive acres of green lawn, where Radish greeted them both with sloppy dog kisses. Outside, his tension faded until he was back to his easygoing, blood-pressure-free self. He snagged a couple of swings from a shed attached to the house, then led her around to the side of the yard, beyond his momma’s view from the kitchen window, where a gargantuan wooden play fort dominated the ground.
That slidedidlook like fun.
A lot more fun than staying with his momma in the kitchen.
If she’d had aspirations of being his long-term, permanent girlfriend, she might’ve asked about his relationship with his momma. But she was here as Louisa’s guest for a football game tomorrow, not as the woman Jackson was sleeping with, so she didn’t ask.
And he didn’t offer.
But he did show her a good time on the play fort, fully clothed and G-rated and everything.
“We’re not staying here tonight,” Jackson said while he pushed her on a swing.
She looked back at him. “No?”
