I blanch, climb out of the hammock, and start for the back porch. “I didn’t realize you were a big hunter.”
“I’m not. Mostly use it to mess with my nieces and nephews.” He strides to the door and holds it open for me. “And now you.”
“Lucky me.” I make a note to steal that senseless contraption and hide it before he has the chance to scare me again.
“Hungry?”
I step inside where the delicious aroma of food fills the house. I didn’t think I was hungry, but my stomach gurgles loudly before I can answer him. I’m slightly mortified.
“I take that as a yes.” His eyes twinkle with humor. “Good. Make a plate and sit down.”
“Thank you.”
In the kitchen, there’s a pan filled with a mountain of roasted veggies and chicken.
I scoop a small amount onto my plate and hand him the serving utensil. “You really didn’t have to do this. I brought food.”
“I have to eat, too.” He shrugs, adding another big scoop to my plate before he fills his. I don’t even have a chance to object. “It’s the least I can do after I fucked up your plans.”
I move to the table and take a seat.
Jackson sets his plate across from me. “Besides, you didn’t bring food. You brought snacks.” I brought plenty of food. Though, I guess not enough to sustain someone like Jackson who works hard labor all day. “Were you seriously planning to survive off bread and cheese all week?” He walks over to the fridge and retrieves a pitcher of water.
“I’ve survived on less.” It’s the truth.
“Is this that viral Girl Dinner thing my sister is always going on about?” He takes two glasses from the cupboard and fills them while singing, “Girl dinner, girl dinner.”
“Don’t judge Girl Dinner.” I pick up my knife and cut my chicken into bite-size shapes.
“I’d literally starve. Or pass out.” He puts the pitcher back in the fridge.
“That only proves women are stronger than men.”
“Now, that’s something we can agree on.” He winks as he setsone water glass near the edge of my plate and the other at his. His hair is still damp from his shower, and the locks curl and fall forward in a way that makes me want to reach out and brush them back. God, it’s criminal how good he looks. I cast my eyes downward so I won’t be tempted to stare.
“Want a glass of wine? Or I have beer in the fridge if you prefer?”
There’s a discomfort that bubbles up at his offer. I’ve taken care of myself for so long, I’m not used to people doing things for me. Even though I can recognize it’s perfectly normal to offer to get someone a drink, it sets off warning bells in my mind. In my experience, people are only helpful or nice when they expect something in return. I don’t want to owe anyone anything.
“You don’t need to wait on me, Jackson.”
“Let’s get one thing settled.” Jackson grips the back of his chair and leans forward to level me with a serious stare.
“When you’re staying in my house, I’m going to treat you like a guest. Because that’s what you are. My family raised me with manners, and one of those is offering you a beverage. Got that?”
His directness is unnerving. Almost as if he can read my mind and wants to settle my fears before they run wild. I’m also not used to being around people who see through me. I put my mask of indifference firmly in place so it doesn’t happen again.
“So, let’s try this again.” He lifts his brows. “Rosalie, can I pour you a glass of wine with dinner?”
“Yes,” I huff.
He grins as if he’s won this round. “Any particular bottle?”
“Any in the case I brought is fine.”
I force my nerves to settle when he turns his back. Not every interaction is a competition, but with Jackson it feels that way. I don’t like him having the upper hand.
I turn my attention to the generous portion on my plate. It looks and smells amazing. Better than anything I packed, though I won’t admit that. As I take my first bite, it takes all my self-control not to groan. The food is seasoned and cooked to perfection.
