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

  “Do you have any siblings?” She offered it as a polite question. But as he rattled on about two brothers who also worked in the family business, she studied his mannerisms, which quickly became annoying. He bit off each word with precision. Numbered everything, from the ages of his nieces and nephews to the hours he worked every week. Basically he worked nine to five. He owned a home with three thousand four hundred square feet with a deck made of the newest composite, whatever that was.

  The ice cubes melted in her club soda while Shane talked. The man was constantly adding, multiplying and dividing in his head. Thank goodness he seemed to be winding down. In her mind Emily was already making her way back home, seeing the GPS map in her head.

  “How about staying for dinner?” His question took her by surprise. While she appreciated his generosity, she wasn’t interested. Besides, more people had arrived. The tables were filling up. This group could quickly become the crowd she tried to avoid at all costs.

  “Oh Shane, I’m so sorry. I can’t tonight.” Hoping that her regret looked convincing, Emily slid off the stool. Outside the high windows, night had fallen. She wanted to get on the road. “I’m on a deadline. My blog has to be up tomorrow.” This was a total lie but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh. Well, all right.” He looked surprised. If his dad was known in town, most women probably appreciated such an invitation. Shane might have women falling at his feet. He might be a male version of Victoria Pomeroy. “Maybe another night?”

  “Maybe. Let me think about that.” By then she was pulling on her jacket. He stood to help. Unlike Keith, he was a gentleman. She’d give him that.

  While she dug into her purse, he tossed some bills on the bar. “No, I’ve got this.”

  “Thank you.” She backed away.

  “You’re welcome.” Apparently he was leaving too. She wasn’t happy about that. What if he followed her home? The panic she’d kept at bay now menaced her.

  Calm down, Emily. This is just a guy walking you to your car. He’s not going to stuff you in his trunk.

  Or was he? Emily chattered mindlessly about the weather as they strolled out to the parking lot in the cool night air. At least she’d parked under the bright overhead lights. When she felt the casual bump of his shoulder against hers, she quickly moved away.

  “Well, here I am.” She dug her keys out.

  Shane eyed her modest SUV, no doubt calculating her income bracket.

  Once she’d unlocked the door with her remote, he opened it. But when he turned and seemed ready to hug her, she dodged his arms. “Well, bye now.” She slid into her car quickly, eager to get out of reach. “Nice meeting you. Have a good evening.”

  “Sure. Right.” Drawing back, he crossed his arms over his chest. Shane wasn’t looking pleased. What had he expected? Surely he could feel they had zero chemistry.

  Pulling the door closed, she hoped he wasn’t going to stand there until she left. Emily wanted him to leave first. Head down, she busied herself with her dashboard, adjusting the vents, fiddling with her radio until she found some cool jazz.

  Relief made her limp when she heard his footsteps retreat. She adjusted her rearview mirror to keep him in sight. His black car looked new. When he backed out, she saw it was a BMW. Sensible but upscale. She kept her head down, as if she were searching her purse for something. Her tight shoulders loosened when he drove out ahead of her and turned right.

  Eyes on his taillights, Emily felt every muscle in her body unwind. Dating in college sure hadn’t been this exhausting. She put her car in reverse, exited the lot and turned left. All the way out of town, she talked to herself out loud. “I’m going to do this. It’s a process and I’m up to it.” This was a trick she’d used when she was in college and signed up for a class that was way over her head, like physics or calculus. Right now she needed every trick she’d ever learned.

  She refused to become discouraged. This search was important and self pity was useless. How did some girls manage to meet and marry the right man?

  But then she thought of Josie and Bryn. Weren’t they in the same situation? That brought her some comfort and she smiled. Wait until she told them about tonight. The music was low and soothing, with lots of saxophone that calmed her. Once out on the country road, she flicked on her bright lights.

  Jackson was right. Country roads at night were very dark. Feeling independent and capable, she took the turns. Wasn’t she creating her own future?

  You rock, Emily. Go for it!

  Then she noticed the lights behind her, two orbs that never turned off down a side road. Emily squirmed in her seat. Had Shane turned around and come after her? Her stomach tightened. The road wound through the dark marsh and farm fields, past roads that led off toward other communities or homes. But the vehicle behind her didn’t turn off. The driver seemed to be headed in her direction.

  She flipped on her navigation. Were there any roads that ran parallel and would take her to Sweetwater Creek? Not that she could see. Besides, it might be safer to stay on this main road, even though it was only two lanes.

  What if someone else from Crazy Alligator had followed them outside? He might try to run her off the road or come up next to her with a gun.

  Maybe she watched too many movies.

  Taking a deep breath, Emily tried to relax, hating that she had to work at this. Other people, like Josie, never worried about anything. At least it seemed that way. The lights of the vehicle behind her reflected in her mirror, bothering her eyes. The headlights were big and high, like those of a pickup. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she flipped the mirror to night vision.

  How silly to imagine the worst. This was probably some farmer coming home from the feed and grain store.

  Maybe he’d stopped at the Crazy Alligator.

  Maybe he’d noticed her there and intended to stuff her body in his silo.

  She definitely had to stop watching scary movies late at night.

  Time to switch to her country music playlist. A little Reba or Taylor. She sang along until the music switched to Dwight Yokum. When “A Thousand Miles from Nowhere” came on, she forwarded to the next number.

  No way did she want to be reminded that out here, she was in the middle of nowhere. Up ahead, red lights flashed and the warning bell clanged. A train crossing. Great. She hit the gas. If she made it through, she could lose the guy behind her. But the gates were already lowering. In a James Bond movie, she’d make it across.

  But Emily wasn’t James Bond. And she wasn’t about to do anything foolish, so she hit the brakes. The vehicle came up behind her. In the flashing lights she saw it was a black pickup.

  Black? Could this be Jackson? The thought both excited and irritated her. The driver slouched lower in his seat. At least he wasn’t getting out. The train was long and would take a while. She checked the locks on her doors. Studying her rearview mirror, all she could make out was the man’s silhouette. Then he raked a hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck.

  While her car rocked to the rhythm of the rails, she picked up her phone.

  ***

  The ringtone he’d set for Emily was the Star Wars theme. When it blasted, he cringed. How was he going to explain this? He picked up. “Hi, Em. Having a good evening?” Talk about feeling stupid.

  “Are you following me?”

  “Sorry. Yeah, it’s me.” He flashed his lights, feeling guilty as heck. “I tried to stay back so you wouldn’t notice.”

  “You could have told me.” Anger scorched every word.

  Maybe this had been a bad idea. She would think he was worrying for no reason. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  “You freaked me out.”

  “I’m so sorry, Em. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “Heck yes, you did.” She was steamed. And he had no one to blame but himself.

  “It’s really dark out here.” Was he sounding overprotective? Her silence made him feel worse. “You should make
the guys come to Sweetwater Creek to meet you.”

  “Then they’ll know where I live.”

  Would this train ever end? Puffs of dust blew up as it passed. He didn’t even want to think about Emily stuck at this light at night. The spot felt deserted, with only darkened cotton fields stretching to either side. “What if some guy in a truck had pulled up behind you? Weird things happen in the world, even in Newberry County. Meet them in Sweetwater Creek and tell them you live in another town.”

  Her defeated sigh made him feel worse. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “You like to be in control, Emily, and that’s not always possible.” He hated to lecture her but this felt dangerous. “You’ll be safer if you’re in one of the bars or restaurants at home.”

  “I might see people I know.”

  He could see her slide lower in her seat. The lights from the safety arm glowed red on her dark hair.

  “Look, this is just online dating. Very practical when you’re single. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” How did he know? He’d never tried it.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Good. So she was seeing the light. “You’re just taking the initiative and looking for a date.”

  “I’m looking for more than a date, Jackson.”

  He couldn’t catch a break here. His mouth turned dry. “And what would that be?”

  Her sigh sizzled across the line. Maybe he should get out and climb in her car. He wanted to see her face right now. Emily could be hard to figure out.

  “Never mind.” She straightened in her seat. “How far are you going to follow me?”

  “Not too far.” All the way home. “Are you all right with that?”

  “Sure, fine.” But she didn’t sound fine.

  The train had disappeared down the track into the darkness. The blinking red lights stopped, the clanging silenced and the arm lifted. “See you, Jackson.”

  She hung up.

  Jackson followed Emily all the way back to the town square and honked as she entered her parking lot. Then he took off for his mom’s, just a few blocks away. Pulling into the driveway next to the little yellow frame house brought back so many memories. Although he’d wanted to buy his mother a nicer house with a newer layout, she wouldn’t have it.

  Now he dragged himself from the pickup and opened the back door. “It’s just me,” he called out. He could hear the TV in the living groom. “Your starving son,” he murmured, opening the refrigerator.

  “Jackson.” His mother came to the doorway, dressed in her old pink bathrobe. “I wish I’d known you were coming.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t know it myself. But I happened to be in the neighborhood, and I’m starving.” Unlike a lot of southern boys, he refused to call his mother Mama. That hadn’t gone over well in college, and his mother had taken the change well. She was flexible that way. Opening the refrigerator, he reached for the package of leftovers she always wrapped in foil.

  Closing the door with her hip, his mom took the leftovers and motioned to the table. “You sit down and let me fix you a meatloaf sandwich. Have you been working late?”

  The wooden chair creaked when he sat down. He’d have to glue that. “Not really. Well, yes, I guess so.” How could he explain?

  After she cut thick slices of wheat bread, his mother began to put the sandwich together. She had a way of letting a silence stretch until he became uncomfortable and had to say something. Jackson hated silences between them and eventually he’d talk. Tonight was no exception. “One of my friends is doing the online dating thing. I decided to follow her. Kind of keep an eye on her.”

  “How? What does that mean?” She began cutting thin slices of meatloaf. The smell was so good, he could almost taste it.

  “I waited in the parking lot until she left where they met. You know, I wanted to make sure the guy went in the opposite direction.”

  “And she’s okay with that? Sounds like surveillance to me.”

  “No, she’s not okay with it.” Jackson rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. That last telephone conversation had taken a lot out of him.

  Mom began to stack the sandwich just the way he liked it, with plenty of ketchup. “Who are we talking about here?”

  “Emily. Emily Sommers.”

  “The girl from high school? Little Emily who made the best Princess Leia ever?” She put the sandwich on a plate, sprinkled some potato chips to the side and laid the plate in front of him. “Want a beer? Or soda?”

  “Do you have any milk?” He took a bite. Man, this tasted good. He loved his mother’s meatloaf.

  “Sure.” Opening the refrigerator, she took out a carton and poured a tall glass. “So your stomach’s bothering you?”

  His gut burned like heck. “A little.” He took a deep, cooling gulp and felt the cold milk work its way down.

  Sitting down across from him, his mother smiled. “You were such a pair. The way you two hung out together, I always thought...”

  “Mom.” He stopped chewing. “Yeah, maybe I thought that too.”

  “I thought she’d moved away.”

  “She did but she’s back.’

  “And not married?” His mother never pulled any punches.

  “No.” He took another swig of milk.

  “So what’s stopping you, son? Victoria Pomeroy. Are you hung up on that girl?”

  He gave his mother a slanted look. “Absolutely not.”

  “Good because she’s a lot like Elise.”

  That made him chuckle. “Yes, I agree.” His fiancée had been self-centered, although it had taken him a while to see that. She had dark hair like Emily and some of her cute mannerisms. Maybe that’s what had kept him fooled for a while.

  “So back to my point. What’s stopping you? Why is Emily going out to meet men when the two of you get along so well? I would think she’d be very impressed by how successful you've become. You’d make an excellent provider.”

  He choked on the milk and it shot up the back of his nose. “Trust me,” he said after he’d wiped off his face. “Emily is not interested in that. In fact, it might be a strike against me. That’s not going to impress Emily.”

  “I see.” Her mother tightened the robe around her. She worried about him. And after Elise, she might not trust his judgment. How he wished he could assure her that things would be fine.

  After finishing the sandwich, he pushed the plate away. “She’s changed. I’m letting this play out. Everything will be fine, okay?”

  “She’s such a nice girl and I know her parents.”

  He chugged the rest of the milk. “I know. But she’s been hurt, Mom. And she’s uncertain about things. I can see that. In the past I watched her date a guy and then move on.”

  “Sounds like she had some growing up to do.” A light danced in his mother’s eyes. “And you don’t want her moving on from you?”

  “Exactly. You’re a very wise woman.” Feeling weary, he got to his feet. “I have to treat her like fine china, that stuff we never use.”

  “I’m saving that to give to my granddaughter.”

  Oh, boy. He pushed back his chair and checked the cat clock on the wall. How did it get to be so late? “Guess I’ll hit the road.”

  After flipping on the yard lights, his mother rose up on her tiptoes to kissed his cheek. “Don’t be a stranger, son.”

  “I won’t.” Opening the door, he punched in the button to lock it. “And lock this door. You women.”

  He was chuckling when he got into his truck. Watching out for Emily was keeping him busy. He didn’t want to have to worry about his mother too.

  Chapter 11

  “I’m starting to dread Sunday dinner.” A couple of days after her meeting with Shane, Emily was walking down Possum Lane with Josie and Bryn. Like most of the homes in Sweetwater Creek, the yards were well-tended. Leaves and pine needles had been raked from under the bushes so the crocus could pop through. Gorgeous pink camellias drooped from taller shrubs with lush abandon. Yellow daffod
ils had sprung from flower beds, and purple and yellow pansies spilled from flower boxes.

  Everything was starting over.

  Emily wanted that too. The heady sense of beginning. Instead, she was searching.

  “What’s wrong with Sunday dinner with the folks?” Josie turned a wrinkled brow. “That's one hearty meal you don't have to fix for yourself.”

  “Josie’s right,” Bryn said. “Do you think I could go in your place? Your mom’s a great cook.”

  They had a point. “Hush puppies, flaky biscuits, shrimp cooked every which way....she turns it all out without breaking a sweat or looking at a recipe. Food isn’t the issue.” How could Emily explain?

  “So what’s the problem?” Josie asked.

  Emily blew out a breath. “The problem is my parents’ sweet, but nosey, neighbor. Not that I don’t love Miss Charlotte. When I was growing up I couldn’t wait to show her my prom dress. She was always so excited and so was her husband. But now she’s a widow with dating on her mind. My dating.”

  “All sounds good to me.” Josie made a right turn and they followed.

  “She asks too many questions, right in front of my parents. Miss Charlotte’s the one who suggested online dating. Since she’s too old, I’m her case study.”

  “How’s that coming?” Bryn asked. “You’re my case study too.”

  “Bryn, you have to figure out this thing with Malcolm.” Josie sounded irritated.

  “Don’t look at bridesmaid dresses yet.” Bryn’s comment wasn’t made lightly. Emily couldn’t blame her for not knowing how she felt.

  “I’m trying to figure out what I’m looking for,” Emily began. She wasn’t going to admit Jackson had made that suggestion. “Take Shane, for example. He has a buttoned down approach to life. The man had numbers for everything. If I had asked him the temperature in his house, he probably would have known it.”