But today, I loathe every single choice I have ever made in my life.
Because why the hell is Jackson still in town?
Was no one going to tell me?
Jackson’s so tall, so beautiful, soeverythingthat my gaze can’t help but land on him. The sun basically makes his rich brown skin glow, his teeth even shine pearly white as he laughs. My mood is instantly ruined. I pause in the middle ofthe sidewalk, looking for somewhere to hide until he’s finished speaking to Mr. Randolph, the owner of the French bakery. Honey presses against my side, grounding me. The gazebo that splits the small two-lane downtown area beckons me, an extraordinarily perfect place to hide.
“Let’s go, girl,” I tell Honey, immediately laughing at the inadvertent Shania Twain reference. Such an amazing song.
The weathered white gazebo has a few swinging benches inside, so I haphazardly toss myself down on one. Honey stays at my feet, patiently attuned to me, still in work mode. Taking a deep breath, I push my feet so that the swing moves just enough to avoid contact with Honey. Birds sit atop the gazebo, chirping away under the soft yellow October sun. Such a beautiful day, a shame I have to hide from the jerk-off invading my hometown.
I just barely resist the urge to pull out my phone to text Colby with demands of why I wasn’t told Jackson was still in town. It’s none of my business. I don’t care at all about the guy. I don’t even know him. We’ve had a handful of interactions that amount to absolutely nothing.
But I’m still nosy and don’t understand why I was left out of the loop.
“Fancy finding you here,” a disembodied voice says to my left. I jump ten feet in the air, heart racing, before turning my annoyed gaze on Jackson.
“I live here. Why areyouhere?”
Jackson’s lips twitch with restrained laughter. “I live here now too.”
“Pardon me?”
Jackson points over his shoulder towards the townhomes at the end of Main Street. “I’m renting one of the townhomes for a while. I thought I’d see what Eli and Trevor loved so much about the place.”
“It’s not the place.” I roll my eyes deeply. “It’s their sugar daddies.”
“Sugar daddy?” Jackson repeats teasingly as he tucks his giant hands into his pockets.
“Obviously.”
“Maybe they’re in love.”
I summon every ounce of my annoyance and aim it at him in the form of a glare. “I never said it wasn’t love. It’s not mutually exclusive. There can be two truths.” I tick off each one on my fingers as I keep pushing the swing. “One, they can be sugar babies. Two, they can be in love.”
“You’re a little cynical.”
“If you were me, you’d be too,” I mutter under my breath.
“What?” Jackson asks, clearly having missed what I said. Thankfully.
“Are you staying long?”
Jackson nods solemnly. “A little while.”
I stand from the swing, brushing off my jeans like I’m ridding myself of evil energy. “I wish you many great returns, blessings, whatever people say, yada yada.”
As I’m walking away, Jackson calls out, “You feel like getting a drink?”
Turning slowly, I stare blankly at him. “What?”
“A drink? Do you want to get one with me?”
I look down at Honey, who is already blinking up at me, probably having felt the shift in my mood. “It’s noon on a weekday.”
Jackson laughs, loudly, a little uncomfortably, and rubs at his head. “Not now. Later.”
This has to be an elaborate joke. I glance behind me, looking to see if someone else is standing by us, but there’s no one else. We’re alone. It’s just us. Me and Jackson.
