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“He’s fine and hanging out with my grandfather. The poor pup is lethargic, but the vet said that’s normal.”
“The vet? You took him back?”
“I had to make sure he was okay.” She drummed her fingers on her knee. “That’s when I learned how... how wonderful you were about making sure he got the proper care and that’s why I’m here saying thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He guided the Wrangler into Christian’s driveway and parked it behind Landon’s vehicle. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I did sort of suggest you were to blame for your dog’s injuries.”
Isabel arched one eyebrow. “Sort of suggest?”
“Okay, okay.” He shut off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition, fiddling with it to keep his hands busy. “I basically pointed a finger and yelled ‘Bad Dog Mommy’ at you.” He peeked over at her. “I’m sorry, especially because you probably have a lot on your mind with your grandfather having the heart attack.”
Isabel’s chest expanded as she inhaled a big breath and rubbed her forehead. Jackson tried his best not to let his gaze zero in on the swell of her breasts in that sundress. They’d apologized to each other and that was a pretty big step, but it was no reason to think all was forgiven.
“I did not expect to be here in Maplehaven. I’ll give you that,” she said.
“Me neither.”
“Why are you here?”
While he hated to admit defeat, especially to the woman who he’d lost in order to pursue his dreams, he couldn’t lie to Isabel. Never could.
“I lost funding for a dig I was on in Brazil. Now I’m hanging in town while I investigate funding avenues.”
“Funding avenues.” She grinned. “You did always have a fun way of saying stuff.”
Jackson warned himself not to linger on that grin, but shit, her face was something amazing when she smiled. He foolishly allowed himself a few seconds to truly look at her.
“You don’t look much different than you did in high school,” he said.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t get as many zits when I eat chocolate though so there’s that.”
He laughed. “If we have to get older, there may as well be some benefits, right?”
Isabel nodded and narrowed her eyes at him. “You haven’t changed much either, aside from the beard and the—” She snapped her mouth closed, her eyes bugging a bit.
“The beard and the what?”
“Nothing. Just the beard,” she said quickly.
“No. You were going to name a second difference. Tell me what it is.” Because he might actually die of curiosity if she didn’t tell him.
Isabel covered her face with her hands. “I beg you to drop this.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, Isabel. Another thing that is the same about me is I still like to know stuff.”
Her shoulders sagged and she stared out the windshield. “The beard is different and so are your... muscles.” She folded forward, hiding her face from him.
If Jackson hadn’t been seatbelted in, he would have done a complicated victory dance. She’d noticed his muscles.
Isabel Perri had noticed his muscles.
“If you gloat about this,” she said into her lap, “I will punch you.”
He touched her shoulder and she slowly rose to sitting again. “No gloating, I promise. Gloating might show off my muscles.”
Her fist sailed into his biceps.
“Fortunately, I didn’t feel that,” he said. “Because, you know, muscles.” He flexed his arm and tapped the hardened biceps.
