“Be quiet and listen,” she hissed.
Jackson froze for a few long moments while he listened for any sounds out of the ordinary. “I don’t hear anything. Are you—aw, shit.”
It was the unmistakable sound of the garage door. Opening or closing, he had no idea. Either way, they were about to have company.
The door in the garage that led into the house opened as Jackson scooped Essie’s shirt off the floor and shoved it into her hands. She was yanking it over her head when Navarre strode into the room.
“Damn, whatever you’re cooking smells great. Is there enough—oh, for fuck’s sake!” Dressed in ratty jeans, a faded tee, and mud-splattered hiking boots, Navarre squeezed his eyes shut as he whipped his head to the side. “Christ, do you mind? I eat on that table.”
“I told you we should have taken it to the bedroom.” Not looking the least bit embarrassed, Essie hopped off the table and tugged down the T-shirt. Her fingers brushed Jackson’s face as she passed. “I’ll be in the shower if you need me.”
The door to the bedroom clicked shut behind her. Seconds later, Jackson heard the shower turn on, and it took some effort to keep his thoughts away from the fact she was naked and wet.
An awkward silence filled the kitchen.
Jackson had known that Navarre wouldn’t be happy with him and Essie getting back together. Not that it mattered. Essie meant the world to him, and he wasn’t about to let his friend’s disapproval act as a deterrent.
“I didn’t think you’d be home until tomorrow.”
“There was a screw-up with the cabin reservation. Now I’m going to need a gallon of bleach to scour that image from my brain.” Navarre huffed out a breath. “I was really hoping you’d have enough sense to stay the hell away from her.”
Temper flaring, Jackson rounded on Navarre. “Why the fuck can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I try, but then I remember how badly she broke you the last time around.”
He was right, of course. It pissed Jackson off. “It wasn’t a one-way street. We hurt each other. But it’s different this time.”
“What makes you so sure about that?” Tension lined Navarre’s face as he dragged a hand through his short brown hair. He had the look of a man who didn’t want to have this particular conversation but couldn’t figure a way out of it. And because he was the kind of guy who never backed down from a confrontation, he straightened his shoulders and stood his ground. “Look, man, I want you to be happy. I really do. But I also don’t want to see your heart get ripped out again, and you damn well know that’s going to happen. It’s only a matter of time. There are so many good women out there—women who’d treat you like a king. Why does it have to be her?”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t care how many other women are out there. I only want this one. She iseverythingto me. When I’m with her, I feel alive in ways I haven’t felt since she left. Ever since she’s been gone, it’s felt like a part of me has been missing. I wish you could understand that.” Jackson leaned back against the wall and ran a hand over his scalp. “Look, I appreciate you watching my six. But I really need you to back the hell off and find a way to accept this, because there’s nothing you can do or say that is going to change my mind.”
He hated the thought of being forced to choose between Navarre and Essie, and he especially hated the fact that Navarre had put him in this position. They’d been through countless scrapes together. The guy was family to him. Hell, they knew each other so well they could finish each other’s sentences. But if push came to shove, and he was forced to make a difficult decision, he’d regain a wife and lose a brother. It pained his heart to even consider the possibility, but he didn’t see any other alternative.
Navarre stared at him for what felt like an eternity, his features harder than stone. “And if she breaks you again?”
“She won’t.”
“You can’t say that for sure.”
“No, but nothing in life is guaranteed. I have to try. If I don’t, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what I missed out on. And if it doesn’t work, you can I-told-you-so until you’re blue in the face.”
Though he looked far from happy about it, Navarre nodded in acknowledgment. “All right, have it your way. Are we good?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” Jackson held his hand out, and Navarre gripped it so damn hard, he felt his bones crunch. He would have pulled his buddy in for a hug, but he knew that particular display of affection made Navarre uncomfortable as hell. He’d never been the touchy-feely type; Jackson suspected that had something to do with that train wreck family he grew up with.
“So what now?” Navarre asked. “You want me to move out?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Having me around might make things awkward.”
Jackson made a dismissive sound. In reality, his friend had a point. Three’s a crowd, and all that happy shit. But both of them owned an equal share of the house, and it didn’t seem right to boot the guy out. They’d just have to find a way to make it work.
“Things wouldn’t be so awkward if y’all could figure a way to get along. Would it kill you to be nice to her?”
The muscle along Navarre’s jaw flexed. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, do me a favor and keep your activities in the bedroom. As it is, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to eat at that table again.”
After donning ear andeye protection, Essie made her way to range five, where she assembled the rifle she’d borrowed from Jackson. The weapon felt foreign in her hands, heavier than the rifle she normally used, with a larger scope and a wider grip to accommodate Jackson’s much larger hands. In a perfect world, she’d rather use her SIG, but she’d have to make do with what was available, and she wanted to ensure she was comfortable with the weapon in case she had to use it.
