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“Holy shit! You scared me.” She slanted her gaze at him as the darkness settled in again.
“Sorry. Everyone left to watch the fireworks, and Jack—well, they were all worried that you’d be waiting by yourself, so I figured I’d come keep you company.”
Carly stiffened. “I’m fine all by myself. Great, actually.”
Well,thattook stones. Jackson was pretending to be worried about her? He couldn’t seriously think she’d stick around for another kiss while his girlfriend’s back was turned. She huffed out a breath at the thought.
“Listen, Carly…” Shane trailed off, and a purple and white starburst flashed overhead. “I know this is none of my business, but things here…well, they aren’t really what they seem.”
Carly froze. So Shane knew about the kiss from last week. Otherwise, why would he be trying to save face for his friend?
“They seem pretty cut and dried to me,” she replied with finality. “And to be honest, I’m not really too interested in a bunch of lame excuses. It’s not worth my time.” In the back of her mind, she could hear Sloane’s teasing voice from a few weeks ago.Jaded, party of one…
Yeah, well, jaded was a whole lot better than duped. No way was she sticking around to hear Jackson try and sweet talk his way out of things.
“Right.” Shane paused for so long that Carly thought he’d let it go, but then he spoke again. “Jenna’s not Jackson’s girlfriend.”
“Ex-excuse me?” Carly shook her head in shock, certain she’d misunderstood. “How’s that?”
Shane blew out a slow breath. “Well, you’ll have to ask him for the whole story. But it’s not what it looks like.”
For a second, something unidentifiable and warm trilled through Carly’s chest before understanding squashed it. “Oh, I get it. He sent you to try and smooth things over, make me believe that this was all just a little ‘misunderstanding.’ Well, tell Jackson not to worry about it. The kiss wasn’t even all that good.”
Carly had eaten some crazy things over the course of her thirty-one years, but nothing tasted as burnt or brittle as the lie that had just tumbled from her lips. She swallowed hard, but it did nothing to improve the state of her taste buds or her mood. “Look, I’m sorry. I think it’s best if I just go.”
Shane nodded and took a few steps toward her to scoop up her phone, which lay belly-up in the grass in front of her flip flops. He regarded her for a minute that felt like it lasted for ten, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue he just couldn’t manage to set free.
“I know better than to mess with someone who’s got their mind made up. For what it’s worth, though, he really is a decent guy.”
Yeah, right. And she was the Queen of England. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”
Shane’s eyes glinted with amusement beneath another burst of light, courtesy of the fireworks show overhead. “Oh, come on now. You could humor me. Seeing as how you owe me a favor.” A mixture of heartfelt honesty and gentle teasing wrapped around his words, and she stared at him through the settling shadows.
“I owe you a favor?” Carly echoed.
“Yup. For taking you back to your car.” Shane flipped his keys in his palm, his grin obvious in the next pop of rainbow-hued colors overhead.
Carly let out a low oath. She’d almost forgotten about being stranded all the way out in Serial Killer country. “That’s blackmail, you know.”
“I prefer to call it externally motivated consideration,” he ventured with a crooked smile. “What do you say?”
“I can get a ride,” Carly asserted, but it came out like a question that had no answer.
“If that’s what you want.” But rather than leave her to it, he simply stood on the front lawn.
The truth was, Shane was the quickest means to an end, and right now, she wanted that end so bad she could taste it. “Fine. Consider yourself humored. Are you parked close by?”
Carly could’ve sworn he muttered something about a barracuda under his breath before he ushered her through the yard. As he led her toward his truck, she wondered if he’d spotted her concession for the lie it was.
* * *
The cheeseburger sittingon the no-frills, white ceramic plate in front of Jackson was less dinner than a work of art. Sesame seeds lay scattered across the golden-brown bakery roll, dotting it with just enough texture to balance out the soft bread beneath the toasted exterior. The thick, brown edges of the grilled-to-perfection patty escaped the confines of the roll, draped in a slice of bubbly cheese. The heady, charcoal smell of the burger mingled with the salty, warm scent of the hand-cut waffle fries piled gloriously high on the side of Jackson’s plate. A burger from the Double Shot was one of Jackson’s biggest pleasures in life, a thing of beauty unparalleled not just in Pine Mountain, but in all of King County.
He couldn’t even manage to take one bite.
Jackson raked a hand over his crew cut, silently stuffing down the lack of appetite he’d been wrestling with for the last four days. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason for his malady wasn’t so much awhatas awho, but hell if he was going to go there now that all was said and done.
Except part of him wanted to go there. And not a little bit.
