“Shit, he was in the bathroom for a long time the other day at the house. I better check my stuff—”
“Yes, you’d better. But I’m amess. I’ve been a wreck, and it’s been killing me not being able to tell you about it. The one night we had together, out on his land, was unreal. Like, the man was onfire. But it felt more than just physical with him. Charleigh, I thought he was gonna leave his wife for me—” Jackson pauses, embarrassed, his throat tightening with emotion.
He can’t help it; tears bloom and roll down his cheeks. He was in love and got played, got his heart ripped out. He blots his eyes with his napkin, looks up at Charleigh. He’s expecting tenderness, compassion, but when he gazes into her eyes, he sees fury smoldering in them.
What a selfish fuck she can be. He’s just poured his heart out to his best friend, and she’s pissed that he kept this a secret from her.
He waits for her to rearrange her face into something normal, something human, but she keeps on glowering.
“Well, I don’t even know what to say. First, you sleep with theenemy, behindmyback, and then you keep it all from me.”
Indignation rises in the back of Jackson’s throat. He fights the urge to reach across the table, throttle her, chuck her in the lake.
But he knows his best friend is a drama queen, and he also knows he hasn’t delivered the worst of it yet. So he takes in a steadying breath, then calmly says, “Well, I’m telling you now.”
She rolls her eyes, lets out a dramatic sigh. “That whole time I was ragging on them to you? And you still hooked up with him? Kept it from me? I don’t know, I feel betrayed.”
Oh, sugar, you don’t know how betrayed you’ve truly been.
Jackson takes all her punches in stride, struggles to remain unperturbed. But it’s hard. She’s being such a cold, unfeeling bitch. He was getting ready to tell her the worst of it, that Ethan laid hands on him, threatened to kill him if he said a word about them, but he suddenly feels oddly protective over himself, senses his walls coming up. What if Charleigh isn’t sensitive aboutthat? He’ll never be able to stay friends with her.
“Why Dallas? Why’d you go there?”
“Because,” he says, then takes another frosty sip. “He suddenly broke it off with me in a nasty way. And I needed to find out if Ethan was really gay or if I was just a one-off for him. I didnotexpect to learn that the man’s a scam artist. So, obviously, hewon’tbe going over to your house again.”
“Obviously.”
She sighs again, shakes her head. Her icy eyes flit over him as if he’s been a bad boy and she’s trying to decide what the best punishment for him will be.
And that’s when the flip switches. He’s had enough alcohol, and his friend is acting atrociously, so he blurts it out before he loses steam. “That’s not the very worst of all this.”
“What could be worse than this?”
“That whole family is rotten. To the core.” He reaches across the table and now putshishand on her forearm. “I can’t believe I have to be the one to tell you this, but Alexander is fucking Abigail.”
Charleigh jerks her arm away from Jackson like she’s been bitten by a snake. She recoils in her chair, eyes flaming now. “Jackson Lee Ford, what in the Sam hell are you talking about? Alexander wouldnever. And he wouldneverlower himself to touch that woman.”
But Jackson detects the uncertainty behind her steely gaze, can practically see the gears turning in her mind.
“Answer me!” she nearly shouts, slamming her hands down on the table, causing the glasses to convulse.
The server, nearly to their table, pauses. Jackson nods for her to come on over with the nachos. He needs as many barriers between himself and Charleigh as possible.
“I am so sorry, but I saw them with my own two eyes.”
Charleigh shrinks in front of him, her features folding into bewilderment.
A minute later, she mutters, “When. Where.” As if her voice is disembodied.
“I told you that I hooked up with him on his land, right? We got it on one night in his pasture, up at their pond, behind the house. On the dock. And I went back out there one night lookingfor him, wanting a repeat, and that’s when I saw them.”
“Tell meexactlywhat you saw.”
Jackson’s throat burns. He doesn’t want to get too graphic; he wants to spare Charleigh. Even though she’s been awful to him tonight, sheishis best friend, and he loves her, cares for her. He picks his words carefully. “It was hard to make them out at first—I assumed it was Abigail and Ethan there on the dock—so I got as close as I could. And that’s when I saw it was Alexander.”
Charleigh’s hand flies to her throat; Jackson thinks she’s gonna be sick right here.
Night has descended, and they are the only table left. All around them, bullfrogs croak their nightly song, sounding like deranged foghorns.
