Then Hugh.
And that left Jackson — he shouldn’t be surprised, he was always last. Last to be born, last to gain an inheritance, and the last man standing while the rest of his family moved on towards marriage, children, bloody walks hand in hand through the park.
He shivered.
Not Jackson.
Not now.
Not ever.
“You appear pale,” Came Lucas’s voice from the right.” Would it be the youngest sister in question? The same one glaring at you with such spite I nearly ducked behind the pillar?”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Hardly, though it does make one feel leery, the way she keeps standing next to the fire. Does she have no respect for the elements?”
Lucas eyed him up and down, his gaze lingering on the singed waistcoat. “I imagine not.”
Cursing, Jackson tossed back the rest of his mulled wine and straightened his posture. “She’s a danger to society.”
Lucas frowned. “She looks innocent enough to me.”
As if on cue, the bloody woman dipped into a low curtsy reserved for royalty then laughed heartily at something a male guest said. Her blonde curls bounced against her porcelain cheeks.
There was danger in beauty.
And she was simply the most beautiful creature his eyes had ever beheld. Not that it made a lick of difference.
They were at odds.
Two mismatched puzzle pieces that refused to go together.
Oil and water.
Fire and—
“Damn it Jackson, stare any harder and it will be you setting her on fire. Why can’t you just let things lie?”
Jackson gave his brother a dumbfounded look. “She set me on fire.” He explained in a desperate voice. “Twice!”
Lucas chuckled.
“She locked me out of the house two days past. I nearly froze to death!”
“It was hardly freezing outside.”
“Snow!” Jackson sputtered. “At least two flakes on my right cheek. I had proof! And what does she do? She laughs!”
“Women tend to do that, laugh.”
“And then…” Jackson completely ignored his brother’s amused tone. “…During the maze when I tried to help her with the last clue she accused me of putting mice in her room—”
“You did put mice in her room.”
“But she blamed me straight away. Me! As if the fault was entirely placed on my shoulders.”
“It was.”
“Was not!” Jackson sighed and pressed a finger to his temple. “I simply made you aware that the girls were terrified of rodents and took it upon my hands to acquire some.”
“Right,” Lucas said dryly.
“What the devil are you two discussing so loudly?” Hugh’s booming voice nearly sent Jackson directly into a candle he missed it by a good inch but started sweating nonetheless.
Hugh grabbed him by the jacket and tugged him to safety.”What is this attraction to fire you have?”
Jackson chose not to respond.
Instead he crossed his arms and pouted.
Yes, pouted.
At five and twenty he was pouting in the middle of a ballroom, where tons of available ladies laid in wait for him to crook his pinky finger in their direction.
But he didn’t want them.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted.
Other than for things to go back to the way they were.
To return to Town with both of his brothers in tow, sans two-sisters- in-law and an annoying little harpy.
Lucas and Hugh began mindless chatter about the following morning — Christmas.
And what then?
What about the after?
No one ever thought about the after.
After the kiss.
After she says yes.
The ramifications of one’s actions were never thought of in the moment, and if they were, it was almost always a fleeting thought.
And that’s where Jackson was different.
He based his life on the after.
It was how he’d survived so long.
He was good at the after.
After I kiss you, I shall bid you goodnight.
After I make love to you, we shall go our separate ways, but we will always have this moment!
After I bloody set you on fire, we shall be enemies forever.
Yes… He glared at Sara across the room. He was good with afters, because a long time ago, he’d been obsessed with befores.
Time had been measured and kept by befores.
Before Sara, life had not existed.
Before Sara, time had merely passed without any sort of feeling or emotion.
Hell, if he were being honest, he now lived his life based on because.
Because of Sara and the Bright sisters, he was losing his brothers.
Because of Sara, he had to get a new waistcoat and everyone knew that Jackson had an unhealthy obsession with waistcoats — it was like she’d known this was his favorite.
Because of Sara — life was now full of afters he could not prepare for.
Damn her.
Damn afters.
Bloody because.
“I need another drink,” he grumbled walking away from his brothers and in the general direction of sustenance, after all, it was going to be a long night and an even longer Christmas. They still had two days left.
And he meant to make the best of it.
Which meant, he’d most likely be foxed during every waking hour.
CHAPTER TWO