Marry Me, Jackson (Best Friends To Forever Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Licensing Rights

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  More Books by Barbara Lohr

  About the Author

  Marry Me,

  Jackson

  by Barbara Lohr

  Licensing Rights

  Copyright © 2019 Barbara Lohr

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-945523-14-4

  Purple Egret Press

  Editor: Bev Katz Rosenbaum

  All Rights Reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems. With the exception of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, this work may not be reproduced without written permission granted by the author

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events and places in the book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity of real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Dedication

  For Ted,

  my husband,

  my best friend.

  Chapter 1

  Emily Sommers stood in the hardware store, a tube of industrial strength glue in her hand. Was this what she needed? Her head throbbed. Bright lights bounced off the tubes, rolls and spray cans crammed on shelves or tucked in bins. Way too many options here. Somewhere a saw screeched and she rubbed the back of her neck. Maybe duct tape would work better on the pipe?

  Whoever said ignorance is bliss did not have a dripping sink.

  The pinging of the water into the pan below had kept her awake all night. She had to fix this, and she was tempted to call her father. But Emily hadn’t come home to Sweetwater Creek to have Daddy take care of everything for her.

  When she was growing up, Buster’s Hardware had been a weekend destination for the two of them. Back then everything about this place seemed magical. The smell of wood shavings. The creak of the old wooden floor. Her father let her choose five things from the bins of nuts and bolts, hooks and nails.

  But she’d never learned how to use any of it.

  Emily was way out of her element here.

  Frustration steamed behind her eyes. She strained to read the tiny print on the tube. Right now she should be home, writing the next post for her nutrition blog.

  “Emily Sommers, is that you?”

  Emily hadn’t heard that voice for a long time. She turned.

  “Jackson? Haven’t seen you in ages.” Like maybe since college graduation. Anyone else and she would have felt self-conscious about her messy ponytail and paint-stained jeans.

  But Jackson Hart had seen her a lot worse. Study sessions at the library or the campus coffee shops didn’t call for makeup or dangly earrings that caught in your hair. No, he was the brother she’d never had. “Haven’t seen you in forever.” And she gave him a hug, quick but tight enough to tell her Jackson had changed. The strong shoulders and muscled arms? He wasn’t a skinny kid anymore, hauling a heavy backpack around.

  The dark hair contrasted with the warm brown leather of the bomber jacket. But his sky blue eyes still sparked with fun. “Long time, no see.”

  “Right. It’s been a while.” Who had sent the last email? She’d known this boy since grade school. But he wasn’t a boy anymore.

  “Do you remember working on that group project in economics? Maybe six years ago?” Leaning against the shelf behind him, Emily’s old friend smiled.

  “Eight.” She almost whispered the word, like a secret she didn’t want to share. Yep, she was almost thirty and college seemed so long ago. “The project was about new business startups, right?”

  She’d always felt comfortable around Jackson. He never cracked weird jokes or did stupid stuff to get attention. Instead he just listened and smiled. Now his smile widened in that slow, quiet way he had. For a second she wondered how that new dusting of facial hair would feel.

  What? Slow down, Missy!

  “You got it. We wrote a plan for a startup company,” Jackson said. “Knocked it out of the park. Professor Hennessy’s own words.”

  “Yeah, I owed my A in that class to you.”

  Stuffing his hands into his jacket, he shrugged. “Pay back time. I never would have passed Spanish in high school without you.”

  “Those sessions were fun.” She was still studying those broad shoulders. “The teachers liked you too much. They never would have flunked you.”

  His face flushed. “What are you doing in Sweetwater Creek? Visiting your folks?”

  “I live here now. Got back a couple of weeks ago.” Emily tried to inject a bright note into her voice.

  “No kidding.” Jackson rocked back. “You mean to live?”

  “I decided the big city wasn’t for me. Something you probably knew all along.”

  Picking up on her playful tone, he grinned. Yes, this was the Jackson she remembered. “I’m almost unpacked,” she said, trying not to think of all the unopened boxes crammed into her small living room. “You were smart to come back home after graduation.”

  “Not a difficult decision at the time.” His jaw shifted.

  This was delicate territory. “How is your mom?”

  “Doing great.” His upbeat attitude was back. “The treatments seemed to work and she’s been declared cured. We’re thankful.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Jackson’s mom was a widow. When she got sick their senior year, he almost quit school. But his mother wouldn’t have it. They compromised and he drove the four hours from Chapel Hill to Sweetwater Creek every weekend.

  “So did you start your own company?” he asked. “You took off for Atlanta, right?”

  A young mother came along with a toddler in her arms. Hand on Emily’s shoulder, Jackson moved her aside.

  Her eyes followed that little tot, so darn cute working on that pacifier. “Yep, I moved to Atlanta.” The most foolish thing she’d ever done. Well, one of the foolish things.

  “What was his name again?” Jackson gently prodded.

  Emily picked at the price tag on the tube in her hand. “Macon. I thought we had a future so I found an apartment in Atlanta.” Apparently, Macon hadn’t agreed about the future part. And she’d wanted to live in a bigger city for a while.

  “What brought you back here?” Jackson asked. “Why, I thought by now you’d have...”

  She knew what he was thinking. I thought by now you’d have a husband and children. Man, it was getting warm in here. She unbuttoned her jean jacket. “You sound like my parents.” How could she admit that after graduation, she’d been a coffee barista, a nanny and a sales clerk? Not exactly the career path she’d envisioned.

  He seemed to turn that over in his mind. “I guess some women would rather work than get married right away.”

  “Exactly. I started a company. Healthy Eating, Better Life. I’m a nutritionist. Look me up.” Her mind went to her small home office and laptop. But she was supporting herself doing something she loved.

  “Excellent. Did you snap up one of those new cond
os down near the marina?”

  “Don’t I just wish. I’ve got my own place, but it’s not on the water.” Didn’t that sound grand? She was as close to lying as pecans were to the molasses filling in a pecan pie. With a dry laugh she hoped sounded convincing, she motioned to her stained jeans. “Trying to get everything fixed up.”

  Settling back again, Jackson looked like he wanted more details. “Nutrition? Right, all those science classes you took. So where are you working?”

  “I work from home. Advise people about their food choices. Produce tailored menus for my clients.” Maybe she wasn’t working for a Fortune 500 company or a large medical center, but she had created her own future.

  “Wow. Excellent.” He sounded delighted. Anything was possible with Jackson and it was all good. She smiled back up at him. “I always knew you’d make something of yourself, Emily.”

  She shifted in the scuffed ankle boots she’d found here in Sweetwater Creek at Coralee’s Consignment Shop.

  Jackson smiled down on her as if she were the smartest girl in the world. “You created your own direction.”

  “Right, I found out that it’s not easy to get a job with a medical center or a corporation with a degree in nutrition. Back to the drawing board.” And she rolled her eyes, as if those years of struggling had been a hilarious mistake. Emily wanted to put that time behind her.

  “But it’s all good, right?”

  “Absolutely. I love what I do.” That much was true. She enjoyed helping people with their food choices. “Have you eaten your green vegetables today?”

  Okay, that was corny. Either those sparkling blue eyes were making her dizzy or she’d stayed up too late last night, unpacking boxes. Her mind felt muddled and her eyes, gritty. “I mean, that’s what I do. Advise people about healthy eating.”

  “Important stuff, right?”

  “Sure. Of course.” She was still building her business but she’d get by.

  “That’s so you, Emily. Always ready for the next adventure.”

  You’d think she had just told him about a high-fashion design shop she owned in New York. Instead, she was trying to fix a leaky sink so she could get back to her nutrition blog.

  Had he always been so tall? Emily ran a self-conscious hand over her messy bun.

  When Jackson shook his head, a shank of dark hair dropped onto his forehead. She liked his casual style. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d gel his hair. “Green vegetables, huh. Does that mean you’ve given up chocolate?”

  So he remembered? She shook her head. “Never. Dark chocolate is still my weakness.”

  “I remember those candy kisses wrapped in purple foil.”

  A pleased flush heated her cheeks. “You got it. So what are you doing now?” Enough about her. She was running out of half-truths.

  “I started a company,” he said, as if this were no big deal. “You know, like we talked about in class.”

  Why the hesitation? He’d always been so modest. Geeky but smart as a whip. “Your own company. That’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.”

  “I like what I do.” He dipped his head to one side. “More like a bunch of smaller companies.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.

  His eyes wandered away. “No big deal, trust me. One is named Call Your Brother. We repair stuff. Fixit guys.” He chuckled dismissively.

  “People definitely need that service.” Conducting a needs assessment had been an important part of their economics project. First you had to know if people needed your product before you produced it. If her pathetic apartment was any indication, Call Your Brother was a no-brainer.

  “We’re pretty busy. I have a few guys working for me. I schedule them and oversee the project.”

  That business sounded familiar.

  “Call Your Brother. Do you have an ad running in the Penny Saver?” The weekly free tabloid was stacked at the Winn Dixie. She usually grabbed one.

  “Yep, that’s me. Does it sound corny?” He wrinkled his nose. “I never was good at the marketing end, names and stuff. That was your thing.”

  She flushed at the compliment. “The name’s perfect. A great call-to-action.” My, she was whipping out these words like pages of a book she’d forgotten. “What woman doesn’t want a brother to help her? Heck, I almost called.”

  What a joke. No way could she afford a handyman. Things were tight and she had to pay her rent and eat. And then there was her student loan.

  That poor tube of glue held tight in her hand was starting to feel warm. “So what about you? Have you got a wife to cook dinner and kids to drive you crazy?” Nothing like getting to the point, Emily. But she was curious.

  “Nope. Not married. Haven’t worked that into the business plan yet.” Jackson nipped his lower lip between his teeth and his eyes went to the glue. “So, you’ve got trouble at your place?”

  “Nothing big. Some tweaks I have to make.” As if she knew how. “I’m renting the apartment over Minerva’s Collections. Remember that shop on the square? She moved to Florida to be near her daughter.”

  Guys didn’t have much use for the essential oils, crystals and the other gadgets Minerva carried. But Jackson nodded. “Right. I know that piece of property.”

  “It’s empty now. Well, except for my apartment. She rented it to me before she left.”

  “Minerva was a sweet lady. Remember when we’d go there for Halloween trick or treating?” When he chuckled, she joined right in.

  “Wasn’t that great?” In Sweetwater Creek they didn’t have to worry about weirdos slipping needles or worse into the candy. Emily had loved the kooky shopkeeper. “She’d dress as a witch and stir that big cauldron out front.”

  “Scary sounds came from her shop.” Jackson shook his head. “Man, that was terrifying when we were kids.”

  “Smoke from dry ice she kept in a pail poured out.” Felt good to share that memory with him.

  “Remember the year I was Han Solo and you were Princess Leia?” His smile softened.

  “How could I forget? My mother was so mad when I used her best white sheet.” Things had been so simple, so easy back then. For a second they smiled at each other, remembering.

  “So what’s going on at your place?” Taking the tube that had gotten squishy, he turned it over in his hands.

  “I have a leak.” That was putting it mildly.

  “Where? Your roof? Your toilet? A sink.” Only a man who knew what he was doing could get to the point like this.

  “Under my kitchen sink.”

  “Is the water coming from the sink or the dishwasher?” When Jackson leaned closer, she caught a whiff of some yummy soap or shaving cream.

  “I’m not sure but I’ll have someone look at it,” she said casually, as if she could call in a professional if she wanted.

  “Right, that dampness could lead to rot or a buckling floor.” His square jaw clenched, like this was serious.

  His intensity was endearing. Jackson handed back the glue. “This might not fix your problem. Not unless it’s at a joint.”

  “What about duct tape? Would that work?”

  He shook his head seriously. You would have thought they were discussing heart surgery. “Why do women always think duct tape fixes everything?”

  “It doesn’t?” Maybe she’d use both.

  “Nope. Could I have your phone?”

  Digging it from her purse, Emily handed her phone over.

  Fingers flying, Jackson tapped the keys. “Give me a call. We can set up a time for me to come over and check it out.”

  Really, he was the sweetest man ever. “I’d sure appreciate it. But I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” And I don’t want you to see my messy apartment. He handed back her phone.

  “No problem. Can I have your number? Let me help out an old friend.” He slipped a phone from the clip on his belt.

  Old friend? She wasn’t sure she liked that. “Sure.” Emily rattled off her number.

  Jackson stowed the phon
e away. Tugging the tube from her hand, he tossed it back in a bin. “No boyfriend to take care of things for you?”

  “I’ve got other things on my plate.” This wasn’t the time to bring up Eric. That still hurt. In fact, he may have been the start of all her trouble. Her hand went to her chest. But anxiety wasn’t eating her up today.

  Jackson staggered back in mock amazement. “What? You were always dating someone in college. Baking cookies, cutting class to have lunch with your man of the moment.”

  Man of the Moment?

  “Yeah, right. Thanks, Jackson. Guess they weren’t the right guys.”

  “You always found the party boys, Emily,” he said, almost in a fatherly way.

  Was that how he remembered her? While Emily thought about the men she was sure were destined to succeed...after all, how do you get to be president of a fraternity unless you have leadership skills... a cart came rattling down the aisle.

  Who was this? The blonde wore high-heeled boots and a stylish cape. “Jackson, here you are.” She said that the way Emily would say I love chocolate ganache.

  Emily watched silently as the long-legged blonde slipped one manicured hand through Jackson’s arm.

  They were a couple?

  Does it matter, Emily? Not really.

  Glancing down at the girl clinging to his arm, Jackson said, “Did you find what you’re looking for, Victoria?”

  How could any woman have lashes that long? “I thought we’d go over the wallpaper books together, but y’all disappeared.” Southern charm came spilling through those words.

  “I thought you needed some time to yourself.”

  Emily swallowed a laugh. Probably he was bored silly. One time in college, she’d taken Jackson shopping for a dress for the Mardi Gras Ball. Big mistake. He’d played with his phone the whole time while she whirled in and out of the fitting room, asking for his opinion.

  Victoria frowned. “These wallpaper rolls are so big and heavy. I could hardly get them into the cart, Jackson.”

  Could any woman be this helpless? Maybe. Emily’s eyes wandered back to the glue.

  “Sorry.” Slipping his arm away, Jackson hefted up two rolls. “Didn’t know you’d ordered so many. Are you sure these bold stripes go with the forget-me-nots? This is for the corporate men’s room.”