Alexander whistled while he flitted around the backyard, the whistle of someone who was newly serviced, Jackson thought bitterly.
Every time he thinks he’s landed on a way to break the news to Charleigh, his thoughts spiral, the words that he’s so carefully prepared in his head starting to feel like glass on his tongue.
Hey, Charleigh, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I was out at the enemies’ land, trying to have another rendezvous with Ethan—which, sorry, I haven’t told you about because I knew you’d go apeshit—and I caught Alexander fucking his wife’s brains out.
Charleigh will be devastated, obliterated. Unable to function. The least he can do is let her have her party; then he’ll figure out how to handle it. Because what if it was just a one-time thing? Is it worth detonating their marriage over?
Alexander’salwaysbeen one of the good ones; Jackson’s certain of it. He has a radar for this kind of thing. And as drop-dead handsome as Alexander is, with women tossing themselves at him, Jackson’s never detected a whiff of infidelity. He’s seen Alexander in action, turning cool to anyone who comes on to him, and, also, how very hot he is for Charleigh all the time. Almost nauseatingly so. They are one ofthosecouples. So hopefully it’s just a one and done. A mistake.
Jackson’s also been desperate to talk to Ethan but hasn’t been able to reach him. And it’s not for lack of trying. The very nextday, when Charleigh hoisted the Fourth of July party on him, he phoned the Swifts to invite them.
Abigail answered again, but this time, Jackson wasn’t nervous. His knowledge of her indiscretion gave him fuel, somehow making him feel like they were on an even playing field.
Ethan was away again, but Abigail greedily accepted the invitation to the party on their family’s behalf.
“Can you tell him to call me back, please? I still want to talk to him about some leads I might have.”
“Absolutely!”
But so far, Ethan hasn’t called, or if he has, it’s been while Jackson’s out, hustling around town to prep for the party, and Ethan hasn’t left a message. Each time Jackson walks in the back door, he treads straight over to his answering machine and presses Play, shoulders sagging in disappointment when he doesn’t hear that lusty voice on the tape.
Even though it fills him with trepidation, he can’t wait to tell Ethan, holding out hope that this bomb will bulldoze the shell of the Swifts’ marriage, clear the way for Jackson and Ethan to continue what they’ve started.
Obviously, their relationship will still have to be discreet—Ethan has children to think of, and this tin can town is too backward to openly embrace them as a couple—but they’d sure as hell not have to sneak around as much.
Jackson daydreams about Ethan coming over to his place, the two of them tangled together on the sofa…
He sighs, plunging into bed, pulls his cotton duvet, stuffedwith a down comforter, right up to his chin. A splurge from Neiman Marcus last time he was in Dallas. As his melatonin kicks in, making him drowsy, he imagines Ethan right next to him, Jackson’s head resting on that beautiful chest.
44
Jane
I can’t believe we’re being dragged out to Nellie’s house tomorrow for the Fourth of July. Not that I give a shit about the actual holiday; I just don’twantto go to her house. With Luke, Pa, and Mom.
But also, I kind of do? That glimpse I got of it the other day while we were parked out front made me want to see how those people actually live. I bet it’s like a castle in there.
Mom brought it up at the dinner table tonight, humming as she passed around the bowl of mashed potatoes. All chipper. I bet she’s chipper; she’s gonna get to see Nellie’s hunky dad again.
“That man, Jackson, called for you earlier,” Mom said, thwacking the wooden serving spoon against the salad bowl.
Pa glanced up, cleared his throat. “And? What did he say?”
“Well, he invited us all out to the Andersens’ tomorrow evening. For a Fourth of July party. Said Mrs. Andersen hadreconsidered and wanted to see about you making something for them after all.” Mom bit a grin back. “So I think we should go.”
“You do?”
“Yes, obviously.”
I wondered why Pa was even hesitating, but I was just happy he was.
Then he started in on Luke. “Son, you could do well to work the room, chitchat with everyone. Follow Jane’s lead; she’s really good at it.” Pa winked at me.
My stomach soured. I seriously do not want Luke getting involved in all that. Especially if it means more flirting with Nellie.
“Make sure you really lay it on thick for the Andersens.” Pa lifted a slab of ham onto his plate. “And like I said, follow Jane’s lead. You need to learn—”
My fork scraped the plate. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Can’twejust handle that part of it? Luke is here to learn woodworking, not how to act like a politician—”
