Marry Me, Jackson (Best Friends To Forever Book 1) Page 2

  “You think they won’t go together? After all my hard work?” Snatching the rolls from Jackson’s hands, Victoria plunked them back into the cart. They didn’t seem to be too heavy now.

  “Sorry. I was only giving an opinion.” Jackson swept a hand over his square jaw. Was he hiding a grin?

  Victoria’s expression shifted. “I thought you’d abandoned little ole’ me.”

  Jackson used to do this calming breath thing when he was sizing up a situation. Mesmerized, Emily watched his chest expand. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I got tied up, checking out light fixtures.”

  Emily glanced up. No lights hanging in this row. Had Jackson made a detour when he saw her?

  The possibility made her ridiculously happy.

  “Hey, I want you to meet an old friend, Victoria.” With that, Jackson introduced them.

  “How nice to meet you, Emily.” Victoria smiled brightly. “Are you new in town?”

  “No, I grew up here. “ She nodded toward Jackson. “We were in high school together.”

  “And connected again in college,” Jackson added.

  Victoria’s eyes widened to the size of pansies. “You two... connected?”

  “Oh, no,” Jackson said a little too quickly. “We were working on a class project together. That’s all. Good friends. Emily always had men trailing her around campus.”

  Trailing? Really?

  Some of it was true. Back in college, she’d dated a lot. Guys seemed to come and go like the tins of cookies she baked for them. Jackson had teased her about her “disposable boyfriends.”

  But that was years ago. And she still hadn’t found the right man, the one who would be with her forever.

  Her chest was tightening up. The room was warm and Emily had to get out of here. Maybe she was tired, but Victoria’s beautiful blonde ponytail falling over one shoulder was too much to take. And so were Jackson’s walks down memory lane.

  Emily backed away. “I sh-should be going. Always nice to meet one of Jackson’s friends.” Great, now she sounded like his mother.

  “Wait a minute.” Jackson perked up. “You two might have stuff in common.”

  “What would that be?” Victoria held her smile.

  “Emily works with food. Nutrition, right?” He turned to her and Emily nodded. Where was he going with this? She didn’t think she wanted Victoria for a client.

  “Victoria is opening a shop,” Jackson said. “A pantry, right?”

  “Yes, but I don’t see where you’re going with this.” His girlfriend obviously didn’t want to pal around with Emily. Jackson didn’t get it.

  “Might be good for you two to put your heads together.” Clearly excited, he circled them with his eyes, as if he saw them becoming best buddies.

  “You really think so?” Victoria said slowly. “We don’t even know where it’s going to be.”

  “Emily was always good with the marketing part. She could help you out.”

  “Didn’t you tell me I was very capable?” More pouting.

  Jackson said nothing. Victoria’s hand snaked out to his arm and squeezed. Kind of like a boa constrictor. “Maybe. We can talk about it later.”

  I’m out of here. “Nice seeing you, Jackson. Gotta run. I’ve got a deadline.” To her relief, Victoria pulled Jackson from the aisle, chattering about rolls of wallpaper and square footage.

  Waiting until they were out of sight, Emily went back for the tube of glue. She’d show him. No way was Jackson going to help her. Not if his girlfriend had anything to say about it. Grabbing the glue, she wandered into the next row, searching for duct tape.

  She didn’t have to look far. A corner counter held a mountain of the tape in rainbow colors. Blue would be nice. With one fast grab, she yanked a roll from the middle. The display swayed and duct tape tumbled everywhere. Emily watched, horrified.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no.” Dropping to her knees, she scrambled for the blue, green and red rolls, scooping them out from under shelves.

  Suddenly Buster himself was there, dressed in his navy shop coat. About her father’s age, the owner had come to save her. “There, there. Accidents happen. I’ll take care of it.” Grabbing a red phone from the wall, he shooed her away, no light of recognition in his eyes.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  So Buster didn’t remember little Emily?

  “Emergency in aisle eleven” blared over the PA.

  Sinking into her upturned collar, Emily scurried to the front register. Luckily, Jackson and his girlfriend were nowhere to be seen. Emily dug in her wallet for a credit card that was almost maxed out.

  ***

  “I met an old friend today, Sasha,” she told her cat when she got home. Sasha’s enormous blue eyes were riveted to the green bag of cat food in Emily’s hands.

  “Yes, I’m going to feed you.” Unrolling the top of the bag, she sprinkled dry food into Sasha’s bowl. Her cat’s delicate tongue swiped her lips in expectation. “Jackson was a really nice guy in college. Not the kind I’d date, mind you. Oh, no, I was too busy with guys like Macon, Kurt and Lyle. The guys who chatted me up at frat parties, impressing me with their big plans.”

  Sasha kept munching away. The good thing about cats was that they always listened and never judged you. “I guess that hasn’t changed. Remember Eric?”

  Eric Lowry was her most recent mistake. After Macon hadn’t worked out, she’d focused on her work. That took a while. Then she met Eric––tall, confident and going somewhere. He’d loved her cooking and wanted to move in with her...until the Friday night he met Amber. Emily was late meeting him at Whisky River, where everyone piled in after work. Back then, her business was still new. She worked constantly and had lost track of time. Pushing her way through the crowd, she waved to the man she hoped would propose soon.

  But Eric was occupied. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch. Whispering in another woman’s ear, Eric was being his charming self.

  He turned as Emily approached. “Hey, here you are. Want you to meet a new friend.”

  Within five minutes Amber made it known that she owned her own home and worked as a marketing executive. Emily felt herself shrink as she listened. The place was jammed. Of course, Eric never offered her his bar stool. He was too busy with his latest conquest.

  Emily had dated Eric for three years but they’d never talked about the future. Looking back, she should have known. Just before last Christmas he’d married Amber and her spacious home.

  An empty feeling opened up inside when Emily remembered hearing the news. She was back at Whisky River, the bar crowded, the ceiling low. Listening to her friend describe the lavish wedding Eric and Amber were planning, she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Emily had to leave and pushed her way out, the friend calling after her but not following her out. Those “friends” had really been acquaintances. Had she ever spoken to that girl again?

  Emily could still remember the rough feeling of the brick building behind her when she stood outside, panic ripping across her chest.

  After that nothing got better. Every crowded place brought on this fear. Even church was out. So were restaurants and bars. She’d given up so much. Thank goodness, she had been working from her apartment back then. But looking out her window one day, she realized she’d become imprisoned. Her fears were keeping her inside. The sessions with Eileen, a therapist she eventually found, brought some relief.

  That’s when she’d decided to move back to Sweetwater Creek. Through Facebook, she’d reconnected with Josie and Bryn, two friends from high school. Returning home looked belter with each email and call. She needed her hometown. Needed women friends and her parents. Heck with dating. She was over it.

  So here she was in a two-bedroom apartment above an empty storefront. The place was small but the living room window overlooked the expansive park-like town square, a view that filled her with contentment.

  Location, Location.

  She looked around. Boxes, boxes.

  But there was no rush.


  Watching Sasha still busy with her food, Emily felt hungry. After she tore open a bag of cheese curls, she slathered bread rounds with peanut butter and orange marmalade. But as she sat chewing at her kitchen table, her eyes slid to the cupboard doors beneath the sink. A trickle of water pooled onto the floor.

  She reached for the bag from Buster’s, took out the tube and scanned the back label. Darn it. Jackson was right. The glue had to be applied to a dry surface. Maybe she’d improvise, and Emily might as well take care of this now. Ripping off lengths of duct tape, she threw open the cupboard doors and wrapped tape around the drip seeping from a silver coil.

  Eventually she’d wound enough duct tape around the pipe to seal the Hoover Dam. Then came the glue. She squirted it onto any place that the tape wasn’t flat and tight. Satisfaction settled her stomach. Grabbing some paper towels, she sopped up the water. This job was done.

  Take that, Jackson Hart. I do not need a man’s help.

  Closing the cupboard, she trotted down to her office and sat down to write her next blog post. Make friends with spinach. Did that sound weird?

  Today her mind was on an old friend with laughing eyes and a sympathetic smile.

  Who had a girlfriend. And that was fine. Friendship and a few laughs. That’s all she could handle right now.

  So back to work. Outside the office window, a cardinal hopped from branch to branch of the oak tree. She tapped her fingers on the keyboard. Some days her writing muse wasn’t perched on her shoulder. But she had to get this done. Spinach is packed with vitamin D and you should be too.

  Hmm. Maybe not. She pictured readers stuffing raw spinach into their mouths. Certainly not as good as dark chocolate.

  That did it. Time for a break and Emily retreated to the kitchen. Cracking open the freezer door, she let cold air wash over her. Her mind cleared. She reached for one of her emergency bags of chocolate kisses. If she didn’t watch it, these jeans weren’t going to fit her for long.

  Too bad. Opening the bag with a quick yank that froze her fingers, she grabbed a couple foiled-wrapped drops. The chocolate slid nicely from the wrapping.

  The chocolate kiss was cool on her tongue as she trotted down the hardwood hallway to her office. Determined to get this done, she got back to her spinach. Swirl a little olive oil in your pan and just before it starts to sizzle...

  Sizzle. Did Jackson’s eyes sizzle?

  No, they were more like her favorite blanket. And what did that matter anyway?

  Onward. Toss in washed and dried spinach. Ten minutes later, she was tying up a tasty little recipe for wilted spinach, topped with chopped tomatoes and onions. Since she’d cooked this vegetable plenty of times for herself, she had a picture to add. Then she posted the article and photo on her blog.

  Feeling pleased with herself, Emily sat back. Freedom was what working from home was all about. The cursor on the screen blinked, as if asking Where to now?

  Her fingers fell into the groove of the J on her keyboard. Facebook could be so addictive. You could find out almost anything. She’d never been a stalker. But boy, she was tempted. Okay, it came down to stalking or more sugar. And she did not need those calories. So she typed Call Your Brother in the search box. The link came up and she clicked.

  Darn. Settling back in her chair, Emily smiled. Jackson did look like somebody’s brother. Friendly and approachable. She didn’t know why, but she copied his photo to her desktop. It just happened.

  Her finger hovered over the Like button. Wouldn’t her readers like a recommendation? Click. Sometimes Emily’s fingers––and her heart––had a mind of their own.

  Chapter 2

  Flanked by her walking buddies Josie and Bryn, Emily had just finished telling them about running into Jackson at Buster’s.

  “Wait a minute.” Josie grabbed her arm. “You mean Jackson Hart from grade school?”

  “Kind of geeky in high school, right?” Bryn wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes, Jackson Hart. And I guess you haven’t seen him lately. Maybe you didn’t recognize him. We bumped into each other at Chapel Hill. Helped each other out with our classwork, so he wasn’t a complete surprise.” But her reaction to him had been. Emily was still trying to figure that out.

  Bryn was right. In high school, Jackson had been the guy they called to help build the homecoming float or to fix their computer. He never played sports or ran for class president. Jackson was nice. Dependable.

  He was just Jackson.

  Their pace slowed. “Last time I saw Jackson at the Comeback Inn, he was looking pretty hot,” Josie said.

  “Really? How hot?” Bryn’s eyes widened. “You never said anything.”

  “Let’s keep walking.” Emily nudged them along. She hated to talk about her old friend like this. Especially since he was taken.

  How Emily looked forward to this early morning walk three times a week. With all the time she spent at her computer, she needed the exercise and loved catching up with her high school friends. After all this time, they had a lot in common. Amazingly, Josie and Bryn were still single.

  Spanish moss hung from the trees, swaying slightly on the morning breeze. Clusters of palm trees marked the town square. These cobblestone streets didn’t rumble with heavy traffic. This morning, the air was cool enough for a hoodie.

  Living in the city, she’d missed the earthy smell of the marsh. The underlying salty tang of the harbor. In the early morning the streets held peace and contentment, unlike Atlanta’s traffic jams and ear-splitting noise level.

  The city where she’d stayed in the wrong relationship too long. The city that made her terrified of crowds. Now her ears felt soothed by silence, or the muted coos of mourning doves. Usually the three of them met on the square, convenient for everyone. Josie was the administrator at the library and Bryn had a floral shop not too far from the square.

  They picked up their pace, doing one loop around the square. Then they cut across it toward the fountain. Except for the squirrels scampering through the oaks and pines, the square was quiet and the benches, now empty. Spring would be here soon. After yesterday’s shower, the empty flower beds smelled of damp earth.

  “So Jackson’s a friend.” Always direct, Josie circled back. “Can’t he be more?”

  “No. Never.” The words came out too fast, too sharp.

  Their steps slowing, her friends looked at her, wanting more.

  “He’s got a girlfriend.” She tried to be matter-of-fact about this. “Victoria.”

  “Victoria?” Bryn’s mouth dropped open. “Victoria Pomeroy?”

  She thought back. “He didn’t give her last name.”

  Josie blew out a strawberry. “Think about it. In this town there’s only one Victoria. Victoria Pomeroy.”

  Pomeroy. A sick feeling spiraled through her. “You mean like Pomeroy Farms...Pomeroy Bank...Pomeroy Shopping Mall?” Well, that accounted for Victoria’s attitude.

  They’d stopped, pinned to the spot by that name. “That’s the one. Come on. Keep walking.” Josie urged them forward.

  Running to catch up, Emily tripped on a brick lifted by a tree root. Bryn grabbed her arm until she steadied herself. “But I don’t remember a Victoria Pomeroy. Trust me, this girl is someone I wouldn’t forget.”

  Arms pumping, Josie chuckled. “She was probably in fourth grade or so when we graduated from high school. That’s why you don’t know her. Haven’t you seen her flashy red convertible around town?”

  “That’s Victoria?” While she was unpacking boxes in the small living room, Emily had noticed the red car cruising around the square or parked in one of the diagonal slots. “The car is hard to miss.”

  Since the weather had been cool, the top had always been up. She’d never noticed the driver.

  “That’s Victoria all right,” Josie said in a disapproving tone. “A daddy’s girl who gets anything she wants.”

  So that’s how it was. Emily’s heart pinched a little. She wanted Jackson to be with someone a lot nicer
than Victoria. He deserved better. “Before she showed up, Jackson had offered to help me. You know, with my dripping sink.”

  “Sounds promising.” Bryn wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Look, Jackson is a great guy I’ve known for a long time. An old friend, although we’ve lost touch.” Just saying his name caused a funny shimmer in her tummy. She couldn’t get that tall, toned man out of her mind. “He took my number. Said he’d call to look at the leak. But with Victoria in his life, that probably won’t happen.”

  “Let’s not give up on the boy so fast. He’s crazy if he doesn’t call,” Josie said, a master at maddening practicality. “You’ve got history together.”

  They were walking a fast pace and Emily started to sweat. “In my life, when a man says he’ll call, that’s not always how it works out.”

  “Ouch,” Josie said. “There’s a story there.”

  “Later. Come on. I’m leaving you behind.” She sprinted away.

  “No, you’re not.” And Josie zoomed past her, just like she had in high school when they ran sprints. With her athletic build, there was no catching up to Josie. She had the medals to prove it.

  When they reached the large three-tiered fountain that dated back to the 1800s, they circled it at a slow jog. By noon, people would fill the benches that circled the fountain, eating lunch from paper bags. The splashing sound of water was so peaceful. That’s all Emily wanted in her life right now. Peace.

  “I’ve got a stitch in my side,” Bryn gasped after a second lap. “Slow down. We agreed to walk and talk.”

  But sometimes Emily felt like running. Sometimes faster felt better. Then she might escape the anxiety that could erupt into panic in any crowd, any packed place.

  Bryn had collapsed on a bench near the fountain. “Give me two minutes.”

  Josie piled onto the next bench. Reluctantly, Emily joined her. Nerves fired through her body like static electricity. She still wanted to run.

  “Tell us more. How did it go with Victoria?” Josie asked.

  “We didn’t say much.” Emily sucked in a cool breath of air. “Victoria Pomeroy is gorgeous. She’s not the type I’d picture for Jackson. They were looking at wallpaper together.” Except Jackson had wandered over, and he wasn’t searching for light fixtures. Throwing back her head, she took in the buds, red and full on the oak trees arching above them. From her living room, she’d be able to watch them bloom.