Annoyance grips his throat. As always, she’s being territorial.
“The Johnsons,” he lies. “They want me to consult with them about their dining room. But they probably won’t ever even follow through.”
He’s picked that particular family because they’re ancient. Because Charleigh doesn’t have any direct communication with them, so the chances of her busting him are nil.
“Fine,” she says. “Wanna hang out tonight, though? I’m still mad at Alexander, so it’d be good if I have other plans.”
“For real?” Jackson’s voice practically squeaks. “Leave that good man alone. And no, I’m not on his side, like I told you last night, over and over, but you need to let this one go.”
Last night, theirone drinkturned into two bottles of wine, Charleigh sloppy on his couch, monologuing about the Swifts, about Nellie.
Jackson squirmed. He pretty much tells Charleigheverything—what he had for breakfast, how he’s avoiding his mother’s phone calls, what he had for lunch, if he kissed a guy in Dallas—so not being able to tell her, make thatgushto her, about hisheartthrob, Ethan, is excruciating. Excruciating because he can’t tell his person anything about it, and excruciating because he knows she’d mangle him for it.
After a certain point, when the pinot noir turned his mind to jelly, he considered testing the waters, perhaps mentioning how attractive Ethan is, gauging her response, but…he couldn’t bring himself to blurt out the words, fearing that she’d be able to see the real reason behind them.
Just go out there today and see if there really is any there, there first, he told himself last night.
“Okay, whatever,” Charleigh says now. “I’ll forgive him for being nice to the enemy, but—”
“You know I’m on Team Charleigh here, and Team Nellie, for that matter, and that Swift womanisoff-putting—”
Charleigh snorts, nearly spitting out her coffee.
“But don’t torture your pretty husband over it, okay? He honestly just wants you to be above it all. So be above it all!” Jackson himself has had three mugs of coffee to saw through his hangover, so he’s aware that is voice is too loud, bouncing off the walls.
“O-kaaay! You better take me home now. You’re starting to sound likehim.” Charleigh rolls her makeup-smudged eyes, but a teasing grin inches across her face.
Jackson’s entire Mercedes shudders as he crosses over the cattle guard. Once he’s on the dirt-paved drive, he eases off the gas even more, careful to avoid the ruts and potholes.
It’s exactly 10:00 a.m.
Should I have arrived fashionably late?he wonders. Will he look needy, being so prompt? No, Ethan mentioned his wife will be away, and who knows how long she’ll actually be gone.
God, he’s nervous, hands slick on the wheel, sweat biting his armpits even though his AC is blasting.
Is he wearing too much cologne?
The sweating makes him feel like he is, that it’s oversaturating the air around him.
He slows down even more, cranks his window, hoping the fresh air will dissipate the strong scent.
Calm the fuck down, he tells himself.Play it cool. Look at the man’s furniture, praise him, and see what happens.
But what do youthinkis going to happen, Jackson?He can’t stop the hamster wheel of his brain from running through all the different scenarios.
God, he shouldn’t have had all that wine last night. And all this coffee on top of it. Fucking Charleigh and her drama. But let’s get real, he was probably going to drink his fair share all on his own anyway, to steel his nerves for this morning.
Ethan comes into view. Standing at the head of his drive, hand resting on a shovel that’s planted in the earth, head slanted to one side. As he pulls closer, Jackson sees his grin: crooked, mischievous, inviting. Almost as if Ethan can read his careening thoughts.
Whew. Here we go.
Fuck, did he just say that out loud? With the window down? Surely not.
Jackson twists the keys, kills the engine.
He climbs from the car.
“Sorry, I shoulda warned you about our drive. Your shiny Benz is gonna get all dirty out here.” Ethan’s still grinning that sly grin at him, and even though he’s talking about Jackson’s car, it feels fraught, like he’s really hinting at something else.
