“That’s what you were thinking about?” she asked.
He took a drink of his tea. A good lawyer never played all his cards on the first day of a trial. “In a roundabout way. I was thinking about you, but you don’t have to find a penny to pay me.”
“I spend way too much time thinking about the future. Living in a religious household with a father that looked forward to heaven meant that I’d better be asking for forgiveness for my past, be thankful for the present, and hope for heaven.” She finished off the last bite of her burger. “How about you?”
“Living with lawyers all around me, I was trained to always look forward to the future, too,” he answered. “Get an education. Become a lawyer and work for the firm. Start a retirement fund. But I’ve been working on trying to live a little in the moment. We only get today. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is always a day away.”
“Is that a closing statement?” Nessa asked.
“If I was defending a person, it would be.” Jackson grinned. “I’d ask the jury to give my client one more chance to enjoy the day and to take time to smell the roses.” He thought of all the rosebushes around Miz Lucy’s house and how she had taken such good care of them.
Nessa almost giggled. “I’m sorry. You were being philosophical, and it’s not funny, but something Nanny Lucy said came to my mind. She was actually talking about some girl at her church who had the attention of all kinds of good boys but settled on a bad boy who got her pregnant. She said that the girl was like a pretty butterfly that had flitted among all the pretty flowers in a pasture and then lit on a fresh cow patty.”
“And why is that relevant to what I said?” Jackson frowned.
“That’s what I’ve been doing lately. I’ve been focusing on the fact that Nanny Lucy fell off her pedestal instead of looking at the pretty flowers that are all around me and the freedom I had when I came here as a child. Does that make sense?” Nessa asked.
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” Jackson drawled. “It surely does make a lot of sense to me.”
“I’ve got a home that I don’t have to pay rent or a mortgage for, a beautiful waterfall, a way to make a living if I don’t want to teach, two cousins that aggravate me at times, but I wouldn’t take anything for, and”—she paused and looked right into his eyes—“a new friend I can talk to and who understands me.”
Jackson reached across the table and laid a hand on hers. “It took me about a year to realize that I’d landed in a pasture full of flowers. You’re getting there a lot faster than I did.”
“Maybe it’s because I’ve had a lot more help from my new friend and my cousins than you did.” Nessa didn’t blink or look away until Tilly stopped at their table.
“I hate to break up a romantic moment, but are you ready to share that sundae now?”
“Yes, we are,” Jackson answered without looking up.
“Was that a romantic moment?” Nessa whispered when Tilly had walked away.
Jackson squeezed her hand. “I hope so. I’m a whole lot rusty in that department. Did I pass?”
“Guilty as charged.” Nessa grinned.
He wiped his brow in a dramatic gesture. “I’ll take my punishment like a man, especially if it involves a good-night kiss.”
“Well . . .” Her eyes twinkled. “Since this is a second date, and we are protecting you from a pushy woman, maybe it would be all right.”
Tilly brought their sundae with two spoons and set it in the middle of the table, then focused on Nessa. “I sure wish I knew what you’ve got that I don’t.” She sighed.
“Red hair and blue eyes,” Jackson answered.
“I could dye my hair and get contacts,” Tilly said with a wink. “But I’ve got a feeling there’s more to it than that. Oh, well, I’ll just settle for Flynn. Don’t forget to give him my number.”
Nessa picked up a spoon and dug deep into the sundae. “I promise I will remember.” She looked back at Jackson. “So you like red hair, do you?”
“I do on you,” he answered as he waited for her to take the first bite.
“Well, then, I’m glad I didn’t dye it black like I wanted to when I was a teenager,” she said.
Jackson didn’t feel like he had to fill the space with words as they finished off the sundae. Simply enjoying a meal and ice cream with Nessa—talking about the past as well as the present and future—was enough.
Tilly came by and laid the bill on the edge of the table, but this time she was in too much of a hurry to flirt. He turned over the edge, figured in a tip, and laid a twenty and a five on the table.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked Nessa.
She slid out of the booth, and he took her hand in his.
“I have to admit I’ve never been on a cemetery date before,” he said as they left the café.
“Me either. I guess neither of us are cemetery-date virgins anymore,” she said.
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” he teased as he opened the truck door for her.
“Absolutely. I doubt another cemetery date could ever compare to it,” she joked right back at him.
He drove ten miles under the speed limit and then even slower when he turned off the highway and onto the gravel road, but the trip from Weezy’s to the house was still too short. She remembered that she’d wanted those last few miles to fly by when her folks took her to stay with her grandmother in the summers, but now she was wishing for a flat tire or that they would run out of gas. No such luck, though. He parked in front of the house and helped her out of the truck, draped an arm around her shoulders, and walked her to the door. “Thanks for a great evening. I really enjoyed it. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Nessa said.
He tipped up her chin with his fist, and the second kiss was every bit as awesome as the first one had been. Heat filled his body when her arms snaked up around his neck, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms, carry her back to the truck, and make out with her until midnight, but when the kiss ended, he took a step back. “Good night, Nessa.”
“Good night, Jackson.” She was as breathless as he was when she opened the door and disappeared into the house.
Sucking on a lemon couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face as he drove to his house and parked the truck in its usual spot. Tex waited for him on the porch and followed him into the house. Jackson sat down on one end of the sofa. Tex jumped up on the middle cushion and laid his head in Jackson’s lap.
“I just had the most amazing, unusual date,” he told the dog as he picked up the remote. “This woman makes me feel special, like I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof, as the old country song says. I don’t know why. She just does.”
Tex yipped once and stared at the television.
“I know. I know!” Jackson laughed out loud. “You missed watching shows with me when Waylon moved in for those months. How are you going to feel if a lady moves in with me someday?”
Tex growled.
“Not anytime soon, old boy, but for the first time, I’m thinking about it.”