He took a huge drag off his clove, flicked it out the window. “I don’t know what I can say to convince you—”
“Her fucking shirt was turned inside out—” I screeched.
“She must’ve done that right before she got to me. I swear, I didn’t touch her. She did try to touchme. Went to kiss me. I just laughed it off, tried to play cool—”
“Why were you even up there?”
I twisted in my seat, my eyes searing into him. At myquestion, he gulped.
“Nellie wanted me to meet here there, okay? We were gonna, like, get high together.”
“And how do you think that makes mefeel?”
“Seriously? We were just gonna get stoned. Nothing else.”
“But that’s not how Nellie sees it, and you know it.”
He raked a hand through his moppy hair. “I was only doing what your Pa put me up to, working the room, trying to get in good with the Andersens. So, when she asked me, I thought it’d be no big deal. Plus, I was jonesing. You think I liked doing all that shit?”
“Well, don’t do it, then! You don’t have to do everything Pa says. He’s not your master.”
“Easy for you to say, Sunshine.”
“Go to hell,” I said nearly under my breath, even though I knew he was right. I don’t have to do everything Pa says, and for now, Luke kinda does. “I’m sick of your flirting.”
He placed his hand on my thigh, and I batted it away.
It burned me up that he was prancing around with Blair, going to meet Nellie.
We thundered over the cattle guard, and I sulked in silence as his Camaro poked its way through the pasture.
57
Jackson
Jackson’s compact Mercedes rattles as he flies down the interstate, barreling toward Dallas.
He had to get the hell out of Dodge.
He’s a wreck, barely slept. Every time he woke and shot up in his bed, he relived the whole wretched scene with Ethan, and each time, he felt his stomach quake, felt like he was gonna hurl.
It’s the middle of the work week, but his clients can wait.Charleighcan wait. He called her before he left—just so that someone would know where he’s going—and was relieved when she didn’t pick up.
She’d be able to read his voice, tell that something’s off,wayoff, and he’s not yet ready for all that yet. He’s still digesting it. Which is the biggest reason he’s heading to Dallas.
“Hey, so I’m going away for a few days, to Dallas, to unwind,” he said vaguely into her answering machine, “but if you need me, I’m staying at the Galleria.”
He splurged on a fancy room, but hell, Charleigh had paid him five grand in cash for throwing the party together at the last minute—and itwas a giant headache to do so—so he deserves this. Along with a spa treatment and a fine meal at the fancy Italian place there.
Fuck it, bring on the carbs. He’s about to blow his whole diet,his whole fitness routine.
Why did he ever think he was good enough for a looker like Ethan? Not that Jackson’snot, but he’s no Ethan; Ethan is godlike.
He should’ve heeded Ginny’s warning:Anyone who brings aBible into a bar and who looks like that… Watch out.
Why did he ever think that a Bible-toting man whose wife looks like she’s from the 1800s would actually ever be comfortable being gay? Pursuing anything with Jackson other than a drunken tryst?
But screw that, Jackson knows what he felt was real.
