“Has been known to be a bellend, on occasion,” Sam muttered out of the corner of his mouth in a fake British accent.
“Now there’s an insult I haven’t heard in a while,” Hazel exclaimed happily. “I’m sorry to say it, but English swearing is so much more creative and varied than your US attempts. My personal favorite is—”
“Pasta salad, Hazel?” Leah held up a casserole dish and gave the older lady a firm “behave yourself” eyebrow raise. Behind her stood Jackson’s parents, casting their chilly gaze over the motley gathering. His dad, dressed for an afternoon at his country club, held two bottles of wine. Their tight smiles a matching pair, their eyes shadowed; Jackson doubted they’d gotten much more sleep than he had. They were trailed by Natalia and Ollie.
“Hello, Jackson.” His mother crossed the veranda.
“Mom. Dad.” He bent slightly so she could give him a kiss, but she only patted his arm and turned to scan the guests. Jackson flushed and straightened, turning back to the grill to rearrange the sausages.
“Did Leah show you the living room on your way past?” Hazel smoothed over the awkward moment. “Isn’t it blissful!”
“It’s a little dark for my taste.” His mother spotted Hazel’s narrowing eyes and rattled on. “A definite improvement, though. Looks clean and fresh, in any case.”
Jackson made quick and gruff introductions with a flick of his tongs. Kash and Gerry went bravely on the charm offensive, flanking his mom and guiding her over to where the food was laid out.
“I bought a zucchini and corn bake for the plant muncher.” Natalia jerked a casual chin at Oliver, who was looking out over the backyard.
Jackson grunted. “Thanks for coming.” He didn’t know if he meant it or not. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leah join Ollie by the railing, introducing herself with a smile.
“I was dying from curiosity so it’s no hardship. And you won’t thank me when I adopt your Tenant From Hell as my new bestie. She’s adorable. I’ve only known her for five minutes and I swear she could talk me into purple highlights.” Natalia ran a hand through her ice-blonde pixie cut.
“Yeah, she has the same effect on me.” He shot a scowl over his shoulder in Leah’s direction.
“Still thrilled about it, I see.” He was not in the mood for the laughter in Natalia’s voice.
Hazel appeared by his elbow. “You seem a little tense today, sweetheart. Anything I can do?”
“I’m fine.” Jackson stabbed one of the sausages to see if it was cooked through. Natalia drifted over to join Ollie and Leah.
“I’ve seen prisoners shiv a rival in the ribs with less intent than that,” Hazel commented mildly. “Let me know if you want me to take over.”
Across the veranda, Marjorie closed in on his father, who seemed to be doing his best to avoid Hazel. Jackson and Leah exchanged glances and, for a heartbeat, his defenses cracked as they shared the moment of anticipation.
“So, if you do the performance reviews for staff working immediately under you and they do the ones for the people they manage, who does yours?” Marjorie settled herself down on one of the chairs and patted the seat next to her. A flicker of panic flared in his dad’s eyes but he lowered himself as instructed with a stifled sigh.
Leah grinned at Jackson and his chest tightened. He didn’t smile back. At the other end of the house, the doorbell rang.
Leah looked away first. “I’ll get it.”
She paused in the doorway, a pinched frown on her forehead, and glanced back in his direction. He ached to soothe the concern written in bold across her face, but the thought of Landon Peake made him turn his back.
Damn, he was ready for this barbecue to be over already. Whether he wanted to or not, he needed to talk to Leah.
Chapter 40
Leah
The scent of meat on the grill should have made her mouth water and yet her stomach churned with sickly confusion as she walked through the house to the front door.
What the hell is up with Jackson?
He’d come back to Amity Court like a different person. As if the weekend at the beach had never happened. She knew he was under a lot of pressure at work and his parents stressed him out, but this seemed different. He’d been closed off since first thing this morning, giving her no chance to tell him about either run-in with The Tank. Something was definitely wrong.
Thoroughly distracted, Leah wrenched open the door. Her lagging brain took several moments too long to register the figure before her.
Matthew. Ex-boyfriend. In real life.
“What are you doing here?” Leah gaped at him, fingers curled around the door handle.
