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“You didn’t leave me much choice. It was that or I let you sleep in your own filth all night, and since you were sleeping on my couch, I decided to be nice. Now sit down,” he said, nodding to the chair.
I glanced at the couch where I’d woken up and then did as I was told. I was too tired, and my head hurt too much to fight back. I was not only was embarrassed about last night, but suddenly felt dizzy and was afraid I was going to be sick.
“My God, I’m so humiliated,” I said as I placed my face in the palms of my hands.
Jackson dropped batter into the hot pan and waited for a couple of seconds before flipping the pancakes in the pan. Then he placed a few strips of bacon down on the griddle, the aroma filling the air.
“You know, you really shouldn’t get that drunk. If you think you are humiliated now, you’d have been much more humiliated if I hadn’t of stopped by The Crooked Judge on my way home, that much I can promise you.”
“I was with Cara and the girls, Jackson. I was safe.”
“Yep, you’re right, you were. Until they wanted to leave, and you wanted to stay with Marcus.”
“Marcus?”
“Yeah, as in Marcus, your co-worker.”
I could already see where this conversation was headed. We’d be right back into another argument. I didn’t even remember talking to Marcus, so I wasn’t sure if Jackson was telling me the truth or making it up. “Marcus? What does Marcus have to do with this?”
“He was serving up a storm. He planned on taking you home last night. That was until I showed up. He would have had his hands all over you if given the chance. Which I am sure he would have gotten, judging from the state you were in. God, it fucking pisses me off to know end thinking about what might have happened to you.”
I frowned, looking at how tense the muscles in his forearm were from holding the flipper. “You don’t own me, Jackson.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, my head still pounding.
“No, you’re right, I don’t. However, I’m still not going to let that dog get his hands on you and take advantage of you.”
“Please. I work with him. What do you think he was going to do?”
“Yes, you work with him, and according to Cara, you were also complaining about him coming on to you and being handsy on shift one night.”
“Cara! What does Cara have to do with this? Oh wait, you didn’t stop by on your way home, did you? Cara called you?”
I watched as Jackson’s shoulders moved in a silent laugh. “Bailey, you always were the innocent one. Yes, Cara called me because she was concerned about you.”
“Jesus.” I whispered under my breath as I ran my fingers through my hair. “I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Jackson. She didn’t need to call you.”
Jackson spun around and met my eyes. I could see the anger in them. “Really? You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Right. You were practically hanging off of me when I walked you from the bar to the car and I carried you in here.”
I shook my head. He had to be wrong. “No, that’s not true.” I didn’t want to hear anymore about what had happened last night, but I had a feeling he was going to tell me anyway.
“Let’s see. We were standing outside the door when you finally came to. The first thing you did was run your hand over my crotch and tug at my belt. I almost forgot how turned on you’d get once you had a few.” He chuckled.
“Oh my god.” I gasped and then grew quiet. Jackson was right, I was a mess. I was a mess for many reasons, him being one of them. The scene in the bridal shop I’d witnessed a couple of weeks ago, as that woman fawned all over him, had struck some underlying chord within me.
“Look. Bailey, I was only kidding about the crotch grab. I just wanted you to realize that you weren’t in control last night. You also need to know that I didn’t bring you back here for any other reason than to make sure you had a safe place to sleep. I certainly don’t want to argue with you.” Jackson mumbled as he placed the plate of fresh steaming pancakes and two slices of bacon down in front of me, then handed me the syrup. “Truce.”
I looked up into those blue eyes of his and felt an overwhelming sense of protection coming from him. I couldn’t help myself as a tear slipped from my eye. I reached for the syrup. “Thank you.” I sniffled.
He winked at me. “You’re welcome.” He pulled the chair out across from me and sat down, quickly taking a bite of bacon before digging his fork into the pile of fluffy pancakes.
“Look, we can’t fight. We can’t ruin Ryan and Cara’s wedding because of our past. So we need to find a way to get along.”
“I agree. It wouldn’t be right. So, what do you propose?” He questioned.
I thought for a minute. “I guess we do our best to get along. Then, after the ceremony, toast, dinner, cake, and the last dance of the evening, our truce is over. We can then go on our own way.”
