He looks out into the black field around us, blinks heavily a few times, then says, “It’s a long story.” I could press for more,but I’m curious to see what he offers himself. “Anyway…” He points to my car.
And there’s my answer.
Nothing.
He wants to tell me nothing.
A twinge pulls in my gut. “Guess I should get going.”
He starts to walk away. Stops. Turns so his body is at a forty-five-degree angle, then tips his head up. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“Yeah?”
He gives a small nod. “Yeah. The world needs rich assholes. Now more than ever.”
A laugh bubbles out of my chest. “You know, I should be offended.”
“I know.” He offers a half smile in return, so small it borders on bashful. “But something tells me you’re not that predictable, Benson.”
Hearing my last name fall from his lips has my dick swelling. Or maybe it’s meeting a guy who doesn’t fawn over me and say or do anything to get into my pants. Or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long time, I’m actually feelingsomething.
Jackson heads off.
Before he gets lost in the shadows, I call out, “Night, Hunter.”
Without turning around, he throws his arm into the air and gives me the middle finger.
Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe I’m not that unpredictable after all.
Because what do I do?
For the second time today, I stand there, watching him walk away from me, grinning like a motherfucking idiot.
3
Jackson
“Don’t do that,” I grumble around a mouthful of leftover chili.
“What am I doing?” my grandad Clancy replies, feigning innocence.
“Smiling like that. It’s not as cute as you think it is.”
“Oh, I think I’mverycute.”
I roll my eyes and take another big mouthful as his infectious laughter fills the small kitchen. My fault for telling him about the not one, but two encounters I had with Maverick Benson yesterday…and the way I farewelled him in both. They were almost enough to make me forget why I had stormed into Bunny’s in the first place.
Almost.
I still have to figure out how that piece of shit Ridge Duporth found out about my condition, but I think I made myself pretty clear that he needs to keep his big mouth shut. No one knows about it apart from Clancy, not even my sisters, and that’s how I intend to keep it until…well, until I have no other choice but to tell them, and everyone else, the grim truth.
“You know,” he says, dangling his fork in front of him, “the Bensons might not be as bad as you think they are.”
“Yeah, right,” I mutter sarcastically. “They’re worse. Come on. If anyone knows what they’re like, it’s us.”
Clancy’s usual cheery demeanor momentarily slips, and I start blinking rapidly, unable to control the little pulses of energy in my eyelids.
“Don’t get worked up,” he says, noticing.
