“Well?”
He tipped his chin down but only for a moment before looking at her again. “I don’t sugarcoat things. It’s not my style, and it’s not how I was raised. So here’s the deal: I love being with you and it may sound crazy because we’ve known each other two seconds. But you’re the last person I think about before I close my eyes and the first when I open them. Every day I don’t see you feels like wasted time. But the look in your eyes when Maddie put you down and then again when Preston arrived at the restaurant … it’s like the light … the life inside you just vanished. They’ve been this one-two emotional punch of physical and verbal abuse.”
His brows pulled tight as if he felt the pain in his own words.
“The truth is not protecting Maddie, it’s only hurting you. So it’s up to you, Ryn. Coddle your grown child and just keep turning the other cheek until she breaks you … because she will. But I can’t stand idle and watch.”
Until he turned to walk back to his car, she didn’t notice the flood of tears streaming down her face. Jackson’s words hurt, they even cut a little deep in parts of her heart. However, they felt real and completely different than anything Preston had ever done or Maddie had ever said. Perhaps, for the first time, it was the truth.
“Happy birthday, Ryn.” His sad smile clenched her heart as he got in his car and backed out.
Forty sucked.
Chapter Fourteen
Within one week, fall graced Omaha with dropping temperatures, a sweet relief from the humidity. Nights were spent with windows cracked and a welcome break from the constant droning of air conditioners.
Jackson made a point of not being home when Ryn came to clean. The need to see her began to feel like toxic desperation. The need to let her figure out her own self-worth was greater.
Jillian refused to talk about AJ, and she refused to call him. She insisted he had her number and if he needed her he’d call. If not, she claimed to have made her peace with him and his situation. Jackson knew she’d put AJ on a shelf in her head, or maybe even her heart, close to Luke, and that’s where he would stay—tucked away and separated from everything else in her life. It was the only way she could keep going.
“Ryn call?”
“Nope. AJ call?”
“Nope.” Jillian poured a cup of coffee. “She’s not dying so you actually have a case to plead.”
“I already did.”
“You insulted her daughter, and then you insulted her by implying her unconditional love somehow made her a doormat.”
Jackson popped the top to a Red Bull. “That’s what you got out of my explanation?”
“Yep and I’m a woman.”
“So?”
“So she is too and if your sister, who lacks the female drama gene, thinks you were a bit harsh, then you were a bit harsh. Her daughter is an extension of herself, so basically you slapped her across the face and then punched her in the gut. Even if every word was true, and from what you’ve said I think it is, it doesn’t make it any less insensitive.”
“This … this is the reason I used to get laid and then moved on. I don’t speak ‘woman.’ Clearly I’m too much of a man to make a relationship work.”
Jillian laughed. “So guys in relationships are not true men?”
“They probably were at some point, but I believe they had to remove one testicle to make the relationship work.”
“Luke had two.”
“Bullshit. You completely castrated him and just when he started to grow a new pair, you did it again.”
“Wrong … you’re so very wrong. It was just the opposite. A guy has to have two huge balls of steel to be with me and you know it.”
Jackson grinned. “It doesn’t matter. Ryn never saw my balls anyway.”
“Just as well. They really are the most unmanly part of the male body. I mean … they’re sensitive as hell and ugly, man are they ever ugly. Like twin turkey wattles. The penis is the only thing that saves you, and men with ED might as well trade it all in for a vagina because at that point it’s nothing more than dead flesh that leaks like a hose.”
He chuckled, rubbing his hands over his face. “See you just proved my point. You verbally attempt to castrate men all the time.”
“You think?”
“I know. Lucky for me, I knew you before you had boobs and such a smart mouth. Remember those days? You know I caught you kissing one pillow and dry humping another while listening to “Baby One More Time.”
The laughter that erupted from Jillian brought tears to her eyes and an even bigger smile to Jackson’s face. “Oh my God! I was so embarrassed … I still am.”
“Well, put yourself in my shoes. Every time that song came on the radio I had the most awkward image of you and those poor pillows.”
“Sorry, I didn’t have a lock on my door like you. But don’t think I didn’t notice how many times mom asked you why there was always an odd number of dirty socks in your hamper when she gathered the laundry.”
“That didn’t last long. I eventually threw in an extra clean one to keep the number even.” Jackson tossed his can into the recycle bin by the sink.
Jillian sighed. “It’s crazy, but that was us when we were normal … innocent. I miss those kids.”
“We’re still pretty awesome.”
“Yeah…” she raised on to her toes and pulled him down to kiss his cheek with exaggerated smack “…at least to each other. Now …” she headed toward her bedroom “…give up a testicle and call the girl.”
*
Apologizing for whatever Jackson did wrong in the very complicated female brain required a grand gesture. There was no need to remove a testicle, even though they both retreated closer to his body reminiscent of a cold shower—just in case. It’s as if they anticipated what was about to happen the closer he got to her house.
The sexiest ass in tight cut-off jeans greeted him as he pulled into her drive way. On all fours pulling weeds by the porch, she looked over her shoulder and wiped her brow. He liked her in that position—a little too much.
“Focus,” he whispered to himself just before getting out of Woody.
Gunner charged him, halting Jackson’s movements until Ryn showed enough mercy to call him back to the porch. It was progress.
“Hi.” She stood and brushed the dirt from her legs then tugged off her gloves.
“Hi. I came to apologize.”
“For what?”
That wasn’t the response he expected. It was a test. It had to be a test. Women loved playing mind games. The probability of him passing it was not good.
“For last week.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“For what I said on your birthday.” His comfort zone retreated a good ten miles away.
“Which part?”
“The part about Maddie.”
“You didn’t mean it?” She stared at her fingernails, picking the dirt out from under them.
Of course he meant it. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. His poor testicles.