“Momma still does your laundry. I’ve never seen you even make toast successfully. You’re a glorified meter maid. The most excitement you get during any given day is giving people tickets for parking in front of a fire hydrant.”
Jackson’s brown eyes widened again and I saw his cheeks grow pink above his blond beard. I was being purposefully bratty and I didn’t feel bad about it. My brother opened his mouth like he was going to launch into another argument, but was mercifully interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
Not waiting two seconds for him to regain his ability to speak, I snatched my purse from my bed and pushed past him, making a beeline for the foyer.
I ignored Jackson’s hollering from behind me as I yanked open the front door and pushed the screen door forward, almost catching Duane in the face with the wooden frame. Thankfully, he deftly stepped to the side, thereby avoiding injury.
“Oh goodness, I’m sorry,” I said in a rush, reaching for one of his hands as I placed a kiss against his cheek. I was frazzled, but I still took the opportunity to smell him. He smelled good, like shaving soap and a tart hint of automotive grease. Since he had a beard, the shaving soap part didn’t make much sense, but he smelled divine nevertheless. I also enjoyed the way his red beard tickled my chin when I leaned close.
“Hey, Jess. You look—”
“Let’s go.”
I tried to use my grip on his hand to tug him toward the edge of the porch and away from the house, but he dug his heels in and didn’t move more than two steps.
“Wait a minute, is your momma here?”
“No, come on.” I turned back to Duane, issuing a look that I hoped conveyed urgency, but was stopped short when I saw him.
I’m afraid my mouth fell open, a sure sign of my surprise, as my eyes moved over his form.
He was dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a blue button-down shirt the exact same color as his eyes; he’d rolled his shirtsleeves up, which showcased his strong forearms. His beard had been trimmed short—super short—so that the line of his strong jaw was easily discernible.
My goodness, but he was delectable.
My attention snagged on a frothy cloud of white and I saw he was holding a bunch of flowers. My eyes moved between him and the flowers, and I’m sure I looked entirely confounded.
“As I was saying,” Duane took a step toward me and I was struck by the sincerity in both his expression and tone, making me sway just a little at his ominous and heartfelt charm; he whispered, “you look beautiful, Jessica.”
I think I smiled like a smitten simpleton, my eyelashes fluttering of their own accord. “So do you, Duane.”
He smiled. It was small and magnetic. I took a mental snapshot; spending time with him confirmed my suspicion that Duane’s smiles were few and should be treasured.
I swayed toward him again. “Did you get me flowers?”
He shook his head, his voice still low. “No. These are for your momma.”
“My mom—”
“Don’t you leave yet!” Jackson’s voice thundered just as he appeared in the doorway, breaking our lovely moment. I couldn’t help myself, I huffed and rolled my eyes. I loved my big brother, but sometimes I wanted to cover him in honey and send him into a bear cave.
Duane stiffened a little, but he didn’t retreat. He turned from me, his eyes narrowing, and said, “Jack.”
I lifted an eyebrow at this. No one called my brother “Jack.” Everyone called him Jackson, or Officer James.
“Duane.” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest; his expression and voice were mean. “I don’t much like you thinking you can take my sister out.”
“Oh my God,” I said to no one and tugged on Duane’s hand again. “Just ignore him. Let’s go.”
But Duane didn’t move. Instead he used our connected fingers to draw me closer while he and Jackson gave each other the evil eye.
“This might come as a shock to you, Jack, but I’m not losing sleep over your good opinion. Now, are the Sheriff and Mrs. James at home?”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed further. “Why?”
“Because I’d like to pay my respects to the man and woman of the house before we step out.”
Jackson flinched, his eyes widening as they moved up and down Duane.
I took advantage of Jackson’s momentary speechlessness to answer Duane’s question. “No. Momma is still in Texas taking care of my aunt Louisa, and Daddy is on duty.”
Duane glanced at me while I explained, and I thought I saw something like disappointment pass over his handsome features. His disappointment made me feel both guilty as well as warm all over with pleasure.
He’d wanted to talk to my parents before we stepped out. Goodness.