Page 57 of To Catch A Player


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I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t take my gaze off Jackson, not when he was standing there looking so handsome and so nervous and so… up to something. “What an excellent surprise, Jackson. Really.” He’d given me the one thing I could never give myself: another day with Aunt Bette.

He shrugged causally, flashing that panty-melting grin. “Turns out I really like being the reason you smile.”

I can’t say I’ve ever swooned before, but his words made my knees go weak and a little wobbly and my stomach clench as a million butterflies took flight. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I was going for.”

“Mission accomplished.”

Jackson held up a hand, still smiling. “Accomplished, maybe, but not quite complete.” He grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward the table where the stack of boxes stood ominously.

“What’s all this?” The muscles in his arms and legs—and ass—bunched and flexed as he bent and lifted one box to set it on the table, then the second box and finally, the third. I watched every move, memorizing them. Desiring them. Fantasizing about them.

“This is my do-over.”

“Jackson,” I said in warning.

“I know, I know. You don’t need a do-over, but maybe I need to give you one.”

“Damn, the detective’s got game,” Ginger said, loud enough to be heard.

Jackson smirked, but his gaze never left mine—and I knew that because I couldn’t look away from him, either, not when it felt like something monumental was about to happen.

“I want you to know that I’m here, that I love you, Reese, because I don’t have a choice. When you’re not around, I wish you were. I want to call you up just to tell you about the corny joke Ty cracked during the morning briefing. I want to snap a crazy photo and share it with you because it’ll make you smile. I don’t like the world very much when you’re not around.”

“Oh, Jackson.” More tears flowed and I stepped into his space and cupped his jaw. “That is… wow.”

“Told ya I was good at the wow,” he said arrogantly and pressed a kiss to my forehead before he moved me beside the table. “I love you and I want you to be happy. With me. Forever.”

“If Gwyneth’s head is in that box, I’m calling the Sheriff,” Rafe joked and Jackson smirked again.

“I love you too, Jackson.”

“Aww,” Ginger and Aunt Bette sang in chorus.

“I know. I can’t believe you love me back, but you do, and I’m the luckiest bastard in town.”

“Second luckiest,” I whispered, making him smile again.

“No, babe. I’m the lucky one, and we both know it. And I know that I have some things to prove to you.”

I stopped him with a shake of my head. “No, Jackson, you don’t. I believe you, and I’m taking you at your word. Because I love you.”

Rafe groaned and though Jackson and I smiled to each other, we chose to ignore him. Together.

“I love you even more for saying that, but I have to do this, for me. I want to show you that I don’t just love you Reese. I don’t just want you, but make no mistake, I do want you. But I also want to support you and, when necessary, give you a push in the right direction.”

“A push?” I arched a brow and folded my arms over my chest, drawing a deep sexy laugh from him.

“Okay, maybe a nudge. Just remember I love you and I support you.” He flashed a cheeky grin, but those hazel eyes were filled with so much love that it left me momentarily speechless. The words I wanted to say to him were caught in my throat as more tears poured down my cheeks.

“Okay,” I told him around a watery laugh.

“Okay,” he said again and pulled out a switchblade that he used to split one of the boxes open and gave me a physical nudge toward it. “Go on, look inside.”

I took a step closer and lifted up on my toes while I pushed the box flaps down and peered inside. “Jackson!” The word came out on a shocked gasp as I stared into the box. Staring back up at me was a cartoon version of myself, dressed in my chef whites with a wooden spoon in my hand that dripped with barbecue sauce. Like a marquee, I was in the center, my logo at the top and bottom with one distinct difference. “Reese’s Famous BBQ Sauce.” I turned to him, a smile forming on my lips even as tears continued to slide down my cheeks. “Jackson, this is… I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, just fill them up and watch them fly off the shelves,” he said with a cocky smile that only made me love him more. How could I not, when he had more confidence in me than I had in myself?

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