Chapter 23
Leah
Leah watched Jackson from the back doorway on Saturday morning as he hammered home one of the loose fascia boards on the gazebo. Her hand was clamped around a chilled glass of water, condensation sliding beneath her fingers.
When she’d found him gone on Wednesday with no word and no note, the sharp stab of desolation had been a bit of a wakeup call. Embarrassing, really. Growing used to sharing the house was unwise. Leah felt more than a little ashamed of how much she’d enjoyed those two days when Jackson had been so ill. She’d wondered if he’d message or call but had heard nothing.
A handful of workmen had turned up as the week rolled on, all well-briefed and efficient. The small team of roofers had replaced some slipped tiles and cleared the gutters, while the plasterer had taken two days to reskim the living room ceiling. Leah had made cookies to share and tried to stop Hazel from distracting everyone. It was busy; it made a nice change. Watching the progress on the old house was fascinating but, all the time, she’d been counting down the minutes until the weekend came around.
She was halfway across the grass before Jackson noticed her. He paused and straightened, hammer hanging by his thigh. Withspring harboring delusions of summer, the sun had shown up in full force today, beating down on the backyard and casting a blinding reflection on the flaky white paint coating the pillars of the gazebo. They framed Jackson like a masterpiece in a gallery. Three steps up, he towered over her, Goliath to her David.
Leah held out the glass of water. “I saw you from the window and thought, wow, he looks hot.”
Jackson’s lopsided dimple put in a distracting appearance and Leah’s eyes fluttered closed. Heat that had nothing to do with the sunshine flooded her cheeks.
“OK, that didn’t come out quite right. Don’t laugh! I’m doing a nice thing here. Do you want a drink or don’t you?” She tried to glare but the snort of laughter escaped, nonetheless.
Jackson lifted the hem of his tee to wipe the sweat from his face, sweeping wet strands of dark hair off his forehead, and Leah’s brain glitched in a mortifying way for a smart, independent woman. The tanned planes of his stomach were as delicious as she remembered. She’d been mesmerized when she’d helped him into fresh clothes while he was ill, but now—the picture of health and holding a hammer, dammit—he was almost irresistible. Cursing her physical reaction to him, Leah closed her mouth with a snap as Jackson descended the steps and took the glass from her hand.
“Thanks.”
He drained half the water in three huge swallows, and there was a moment of silence between them which thrummed with unspoken words.
Jackson jerked a thumb toward the gazebo. “I hadn’t intended on tackling this. It’s hardly a priority. But the board was hanging down and it catches my eye every time I look out the back door.”
Leah peered over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t hit it too hard or the whole thing’ll fall over.”
“Yeah. I’m done now, anyway. I want to carry on with the living room once I’ve changed. It’s too warm for jeans.” Jackson took another gulp of water, his blue eyes still on her face. He leaned one shoulder against an upright post, scuffing the heel of his work boot into the dusty ground. Casual and clueless to the way he made her heart beat faster, he was back to the remote, pre-migraine Jackson. Leah would have traded her chocolate stash to know what he was thinking.
“How was your week?”That’s right, Leah. Knock it out of the conversational park.She gave an internal eye roll at her own lack of imagination.
Something made him hesitate, his face darkening. She waited for his answer but an insistent mechanical hum pulled them both up short. Jackson tilted his head, brow furrowing, and Leah glanced upward as the noise swelled to a threatening rumble. She searched the sky for a helicopter. Itmustbe an engine.
“What is—?”
His huge hand closed around hers, snatching the words from her tongue. Jackson yanked on her wrist.
“Bees,” he growled. “Run!”
She spotted the swarm—an ominous, chaotic cloud—spiraling low over the backyard and heading toward them. His grip was crushing as they turned and sprinted for the house. Leah’s sneakers flew over the ground, her stride ridiculously short compared to his, but Jackson kept her upright and moving, faster than she knew she could. The swarm roared, almost overhead.
They took the steps in twos and pounded across the veranda, diving in through the open door. Jackson slammed it shut behind them and they collapsed, chests heaving, with their backs to the glass, the tumultuous buzzing replaced by the rasp of their breath.
Leah whirled to peer out into the yard. The bees were thick in the sky, thousands of dark bodies, whirling and twisting against theazure backdrop. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She was fascinated by the sight now the door stood safely between them. Jackson turned, too, and they watched in silence for a couple of minutes. “I wonder if they’ll settle or go right over.”
She hadn’t registered how close he was until his heat began to scald her arm. The slick sheen of Jackson’s sweat on her skin lit a spark in the base of her stomach which spread like wildfire. Her nerves crackled and burned, her cheeks flushed. He smelled of perspiration and sawdust. When she lifted her chin, she found Jackson’s eyes on her lips. And they were blazing. A sharp, involuntary breath quivered through her chest.
“Sorry I left without saying goodbye.” His voice was low. She found it almost impossible to focus on the words. He was so near and so damn beautiful.
“That’s OK.”
“I had things I needed to deal with.”
“I understand.”
“I saw Niamh as well. We’ve drawn a line under our Convenience Dating arrangement.”
“Wait, what?” Leah shook her head, trying to clear it. “Why?”
