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I smile sweetly.
“Oh, but that’s right, you’re not gonna call the cops.”
He lifts a brow.
“What precisely makes you think that?”
“The fact that you have cocaine spilling out of your pocket?”
His gaze immediately drops as his hand whips to his side. There’s nothing there, of course. I mean, Ididsee a glimpse of Ziplock baggie coming out of the edge of his pocket. The rest I put together.
Apparently, I hit a nerve.
Jackson exhales and raises his eyes back to mine. A look of slight amusement mixed with aggravation and annoyance crosses his face.
“Clever,” he grunts.
“So, I guess that’s a no on calling the cops on me then?”
He sucks on his teeth for a second, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hmm.”
I blink, jolting as he suddenly moves right towards me. I flinch and step back, but he stops right in front of me.
Smiling.
My brow furrows.
“What?”
“I just…” he sighs. “I was a dick, before.”
My brain glitches as it tries to process what he just said.
Wait, what?
“Uh…okay?”
He shrugs. “Look, I don’t talk to people much, and…I don’t know. Maybe I’m a little lonely out here. My manners have gone a little unused in the last ten years, and it wasn’t cool to accuse you of being a spy or whatever.”
I stare at him, blinking in disbelief.
“You’re…you’re serious.”
He nods slowly, a warm, kind smile spreading over his lips.
“I am. And honestly, I’m humbled that you liked the house so much that you wanted to take pictures of it. I mean it’s a beautiful home, and I have to say, it feels good to see someone else appreciating it.”
My brows arch. I’m looking, and I’m lookinghardfor the hidden knife here. For the hint of malice behind his eyes, or the forked tongue hidden behind his teeth.
But there’s nothing there. And suddenly, I realize I might just be the first person in a decade, if not ever, to get the real, honest version of Jackson.
A smiles spreads across my face.
“I mean, it’s a gorgeous home.”
He grins. “Thanks. I know the view is a little darker outside now, but feel free to take as many pictures as you want.”
