Page 35 of My Fiancé's Brother
“Kind of a lot of pressure, don’t you think?” he asked. A smile teased his voice.
“Totally,” I said. “I thought so too.”
“Do you think I can handle it?”
“I think it is rude of me to make you try.”
“Huh.”
“An intimate dinner party is too much.” My mind whirled.
“You think?”
“So I think I should have a party instead. I'll invite a lot of people.”
My eyes locked on his face. An enigmatic expression reflected back on me. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
We walked outside to the truck. He put the coffee maker in the back behind my seat and then turned around and looked at me, blocking my path into the truck. “So, is that what upset you?”
I stared up at him. My heart pumped in my chest. “What?”
“The fact that Julie wanted you to set me up with her?”
“No!” I sputtered, unable to think of a quick response. I avoided his gaze. I envisioned her slender arms wrapped around that thick neck. My stomach burned. I wanted to rage when I imagined him leading her up to his guest room for an overnight stay. My emotional response was disturbing. This was Jackson, my fiancé’s childhood friend. Desperation stabbed me,as I drowned in these swirling dark feelings. Shame flooded me too.
“So you would be okay if I dated your friend?” He brought me out of my thoughts.
My gaze clashed with his. His words stabbed my heart. I imagined her tall and willowy body snuggled up to his massively strong frame. Ringing sounded in my ears.
“You can do what you want.”
He hesitated. “I can’t always do what I want.”
I struggled to keep my breath even. He regarded me with his green gaze, making me feel like he could read everything I was feeling. I felt naked and exposed. I needed to remember that I was engaged. I loved someone else. I had this monstrous thing growing inside of me, spinning me out of control. I hated it.
My voice wavered. “Me either.”
He reached out. Big hands wrapped around my waist and then I was being lifted onto the passenger seat. My breath slammed into my lungs.
“You don’t have to do that anymore. I'm not wearing a skirt.”
He looked at me. “I just like how little you feel.”
Then he shut the door.
CHAPTER 11
In the coming week,Jackson and I fell into a comfortable routine. He woke up early to work out. When I came downstairs, he had already made me breakfast.
I would work at the gallery or spend the mornings painting, while he worked on my car or disappeared to one of his standing appointments at the hospital. He never talked about his treatments. I was worried that something was seriously wrong with him, but I refused to ask. He was fiercely private about it, often not even telling me where he was going.
After lunch, we always ran some sort of errand together. With my car still in pieces, he acted as my chauffeur, and I used him shamelessly in helping me plan my wedding. Jackson was decisive, pragmatic and extremely good at coaxing decisions out of me.
Despite the fact that he was stupidly good looking, he was a lot of fun. He teased me into making decisions. We talked about safe subjects like art and travel. He told me almost nothing about himself, but we found our rhythm. He was nice, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel lonely. It didn’t matter when Matt didn’t come home for dinner because Jackson was there. Sometimes we watchedTV together. Sometimes he worked on my car, and I sat on the steps and hung out. It was easy, and he kept his flirting to a minimum. Sometimes he teased me, which made me blush, but mostly he was pretty good about just treating me like a kid sister. Although Jackson was sincere, he wasn’t very forthcoming about himself. Despite his apparent reluctance to share, I did my best to ferret information out of him.
One night,we stood in the kitchen cooking dinner together.
