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A cocky smile fell onto Jackson’s lips, one I’d come to know well. “So, I guess what you are telling me is that I only have a few short weeks to win you over before the end of that night, huh?”
I almost choked at his suggestion. “I doubt Zoe would approve of your plan,” I bit out.
Jackson looked at me, a serious expression on his face. “Zoe isn’t in the picture now, is she?”
“I don’t know, you tell me?”
“No, she isn’t, for many reasons,” he said, looking down at his plate. “Honestly, I wouldn’t walk a single step for her, but to have another chance with you? Well, I’d do just about anything.”
I didn’t know how to react to that. I studied his eyes and could see the seriousness in them. “Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You aren’t that smooth.”
A laugh ripped from Jackson’s throat, and he set his blue eyes on me. Silence fell between us. His blue eyes danced, and if I allowed myself, I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before I was lost in them, because that would be all it took. His eyes, looking at me, the way they used to.
“I know for a fact at one point you would have disagreed with yourself. However, we aren’t going to argue because we can’t ruin Cara and Ryan’s wedding,” he said, smiling smugly at me again.
He was so damn cute, but I hid my smile and instead nodded in agreement. There was no way I was giving into him that easily. The dryer buzzed and interrupted the look between us. Jackson jumped up and left the room, leaving me to sit there alone. I took a deep breath. No matter how confused I may have been with everything or how much I held on to the past, I knew one thing. That this man was going to be the death of me.
He came back into the kitchen; in his hand he held my clothes. I used to love the feel of his hands on me and wondered if they still felt the same—tender but strong.
“What is it?” he asked as he placed my dry clothes on the back of the empty chair beside me.
I shook my head and picked up my fork, digging into the stack of pancakes. “Nothing.”
“Bailey? What is it?”
“I was just thinking my mom must be worried sick about me,” I answered, hoping I was hiding what was really on my mind.
“Is that where you’re staying? With your mom?”
I nodded, taking another mouthful of food. “I told her I would be home last night. God, she is probably worried sick.”
“Well, I figured you might stay there, but there was no way I was going to show up on your mom’s doorstep with you in that shape. So, how about I take you home after we finish breakfast?”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“No worries. You can call her,” he said, pointing to the phone.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. The last thing I need is my mom to see your number on her call display.”
“Better mine than Marcus’s?” Jackson said, letting out a laugh.
* * *
I could see my Mom on her hands in knees in the front garden as Jackson pulled into the driveway of the small bungalow. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard the car, at first a look of concern on her face and then a small smile. I sat there, almost frozen, as she stood up, dusted off the knees of her jeans, and walked over to the car.
“A word of warning,” I said, turning to look at him. “She’s been asking about you.”
“That’s okay.” He said, putting his truck into park.
“It’s really not,” I murmured as Mom approached the car just as Jackson hit the button for the window and rolled it down.
“Good morning.” He grinned.
“Morning, Jackson. I see you brought our princess home safe and sound. Bailey, I was so worried when I woke up and you weren’t here. Why didn’t you call me?”
