After a couple of quick words with Marjorie, Sam pushed a cocktail into her hand, pink and icy cold. “Take this. Strawberries, lemonade, and vodka. It’s a masterpiece, even if I say so myself.”
“He’s not wrong.” Natalia raised her own glass. “This is my third.”
Leah drained the drink in half a dozen gulps. “Get me another,” she demanded. “If I’m playing catch-up, I might as well get stuck in.”
She didn’t notice when the Hales left, but every nerve ending in her body jangled the second Jackson stepped back onto the veranda. Leah wrapped her arms around herself, gripping handfuls of her chunky cardigan in nervous fingers. He radiated danger when he flipped the top on a fresh beer, brushing off Hazel, ignoring Gerry and Marjorie, and blanking Natalia and herself entirely. Positioned inside the man circle of Sam, Kash, and Oliver, he glowered into his bottle.
“Fuck.” Leah’s breath misted the outside of her glass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Natalia eyed him, shrewdly. “Uh-oh. We’re back to pre-Leah Jackson.”
“What?”
“Pre-Leah Jackson. Mad at the world and even madder at himself.”
“Yeah. Sounds about right.” Leah drained her drink again. “Wait. What did post-Leah Jackson look like?”
Natalia twirled her own glass thoughtfully in her hands. “Hopeful. And happier.”
It twisted Leah’s heart. “I need to talk to him.”
“You’ll be lucky.” Natalia shot her a sympathetic side-eye. “I’ve seen Jackson in full lockdown many times, and this looks a step beyond any of those.”
Over the top of their glasses, the two women silently took him in. Leah wanted to cry. Granite-faced and rigid, those lovely arms that had held him braced above her were now folded tightly across his broad chest. Jackson ignored her as thoroughly as if she didn’t exist at all.
“I need more alcohol.” She was grateful when Natalia didn’t comment on the crack in her voice.
They drank until the sun set. After a while, Leah swapped to pop. Alcoholic oblivion, while tempting, wasn’t likely to fix anything. The night was warm but not sweltering. In the background, ESPN-streamed baseball played on the screen Jackson had rigged up outside. Scores, stats, and rankings filled any gaps in conversation, and a steady trickle of sports banter was exchanged. High up in the beech tree, a northern mockingbird let out the occasional soft call, mingled with imitations of a lawn sprinkler.
It could have been an idyllic evening. But nothing about it gave Leah any pleasure at all.
Chapter 43
Jackson
He walked Hazel to the carriage house, partly because it was the right thing to do. Her hand rested lightly in the crook of his elbow. Darkness had set in and, although the driveway was in pretty good condition, it wouldn’t be hard to twist an ankle or stumble on a tire track.
Mainly, Jackson escorted her because he would have walked all the way to the Upper Peninsula to avoid facing Leah.
Hazel prattled happily about the new novel she was reading for the book club, the merits of bacon pieces in potato salad, and Natalia’s amazing shoes, which—surprisingly enough—had not even been a blip on his radar throughout the whole excruciating afternoon. Fortunately, his companion needed little input from him as she ran one subject into the other with practiced ease.
They climbed the steps to her front porch, Jackson casting a glare upward at the unlit lantern hanging over the front door. He made a mental note to check the bulb and get one of his workmen out here to rig up a timer, maybe even another security camera. He didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of Hazel breaking her neck, and it wouldn’t hurt to have another eye on the place.
“Bless you, sweetheart.” She stretched up to kiss his cheek. Unwillingly, he inclined his head. “Delivered to the door by a handsome escort, safe and sound. How lucky am I?”
Jackson grunted; he had no small talk to offer. “Night, Hazel.” Turning on his heel, he started down the steps.
“Things aren’t always as they seem on the surface, Jackson. You know that more than anyone.” Hazel halted him with her words.
For a moment, he wondered if he could speak at all. The continuous antagonism from his father, this pit of yearning for Leah, alongside the ache of being made to feel foolish, had wiped him out. He felt as alone as he’d ever been.
Jackson lifted his chin and looked at the sky but he didn’t turn around. “People are out for what they can get. That’s just the way it is.” His voice surprised him. It was rough but steady. “When they’re not judging you, they’re putting their own interests first. And I’ve no time for either.”
Behind him, Hazel was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her words were sympathetic but firm. “You’ve had it tough, I’ll grant you that. But don’t make the mistake of tarring everyone with the same brush. We all need someone on our side.” Her keys jangled in her hand. “That girl has had your back from the moment she first met you. And if you’re prepared to give that up at the first hurdle then you’re a fool who doesn’t deserve her. And I don’t think you’re a fool, Jackson.”
He heard her step over the threshold, close the front door behind her, and turn the lock from the inside.
“That’s where you’re wrong, though, Hazel,” he murmured as he began the short walk back up the drive. “It seems I’m the biggest dumbass who ever lived.”
