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Okay, so she was probably going to tell him in no uncertain terms to go to hell as soon as she saw him sitting there. The mere glimmer that she might hear him out had been enough for his stomach to get on board, but strangely, regaining his appetite wasn’t the top item on his agenda.
He owed her the mother of all apologies, even if she threatened to throw him out on sight.
Jackson glanced at the back of the restaurant. If she didn’t show up, he couldn’t apologize, and if he couldn’t apologize, he’d be right back at square one. No kisses, no sexy flirting, no desire to eat.
Feed her.
Before he could even contemplate where on earth that strange voice was coming from—was he that crazy from lack of food?—Carly appeared at the back of the room, dark eyes scanning the nearly empty restaurant. Jackson ducked his head, examining his empty table with sudden interest. Man, she looked good with that pretty blue scarf pulling her hair away from her face. He watched surreptitiously until she got about ten paces away, then jerked to a stop on the glossy hardwood floor.
“You…youasked to see the chef?” She stood perfectly straight, her bright red clogs rooting her to the spot.
Jackson nodded and bit the bullet. “I wanted to compliment you on the calamari. It was incredible.” He gestured to where his empty plate had been, which was kind of stupid since the server had taken it ages ago.
“I thought squid wasn’t your thing,” she replied, her tone arctic.
“I was wrong. About lots of things.” Jackson’s gut tightened, but he forced the words out before she could reply, or worse yet, flee. “Carly, listen. I wasn’t completely honest with you, and I’m really sorry.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a gentle hand to halt her words. “I’m not going to make excuses. I know it looks, uh, pretty bad.”
“Pretty bad,” Carly echoed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Way to point that out, his inner voice snapped, but Jackson took a deep breath. He wasn’t here to make excuses or talk his way out of this. He might’ve gotten himself into this mess with a series of fibs, but it was time to own up to the truth.
“Yes. It’s not what it looks like, but that doesn’t really change the fact that I gave you the wrong idea and pissed you off.” Jackson paused to let Carly send a you-got-that-right look in his direction, which she did in spades, and then he continued. “So, I thought I’d take what you said to heart, about how you never really know what you might like. I took a chance on the calamari, because I was kind of hoping you might take a chance on hearing me out.”
Carly stood perfectly still for what felt like a century. Finally, she took a couple steps toward the table to look him in the eye. “Shane said Jenna’s not your girlfriend.”
“She’s not. See, the thing is…” Jackson paused for a breath. She’d let him get this far without decking him or calling the authorities. Might as well go for the whole enchilada.
“It was my younger brother’s engagement party. I would’ve been fine going without a date, but my ma...well, that’s kind of another story. She’s got this crazy idea that if you’re not in a relationship, you’re not truly happy. So, I just asked Jenna to embellish our friendship to make it look like we were dating. I didn’t know I was going to run into you, and that we’d…well, you know…”
Jackson broke off and shook his head. Man, he was fucking this up.
“So, everything with Jenna was just for show?” Carly asked, her expression entirely unreadable.
“Yeah. I know it sounds pretty stupid. But that’s the truth. Jenna and I have always been just friends.”
Carly tightened her arms across the front of her jacket, but didn’t say a word. The eerie stillness of a place normally bustling with noise and movement unnerved him, as did her lack of response. Finally, he had to admit defeat.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll go now. The calamari really was good. Great.” Jackson tossed his napkin onto the table, wondering if it was humanly possible to be a bigger oaf.
“You pretended to have a girlfriend so your mother would think you were happy?” Carly’s arms loosened from her chest and fell to her sides.
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask a stupid question?” She took another step toward him, and it brought her close enough for him to see the dribbles of sauce on her chef’s jacket, along with the double knot of the apron slung low across her waist.
Jackson nodded, frozen in place. “Sure.”
“If you wanted your mother to think you were happy, why didn’t you skip all the bullshit and just be happy?”
The answer hit him all at once. “I was happy. In the garden, with you.”
Somewhere in the corner of his mind came the dark little reminder that made him feel things he couldn’t define, let alone fully control, but oddly enough, it didn’t matter. Maybe tomorrow it would, or next week, or next month even, but that seemed incredibly far away and unimportant.
Jackson wanted to kiss her again rightnow.
“It took a lot of nerve for you to come down here,” Carly said, her brown eyes widening to reveal tiny flecks of gold around her irises. Christ, she was beautiful. And her tone was telling him in no uncertain terms to get out.
