I looked over my shoulder, up at Jackson. He flashed me a wink before focusing back on Mom as she rattled off our order.
Jackson’s stance was intimate and claiming. He was leaning down, just a bit, into my space. His long legs were planted wide behind my seat, so if I wanted to stand, he’d have to move first.
It was no wonder Dad was suspicious. He hadn’t missed the wink or the significance of Jackson’s stance.
As Mom finished ordering, a new wave of nerves fluttered in my belly. I wanted Jackson to leave my chair, but I knew as soon as he left, I was in for some questioning.
Mom’s detailed order of our three pizzas, all of which had their own special combination of five or six toppings, ended too soon.
“I’ll get those going. Be back.” Jackson rubbed a knuckle down the back of my arm before walking off.
One simple touch and my face was flaming again. Tingles worked their way down my elbow and to my fingertips. When I lifted my beer to my lips, my hand was shaking and a few drops sloshed over the rim.
Meanwhile, Dad sat across from me in silence, studying my every move.
Don’t bring it up. Please don’t bring it up.
“I think he likes you, sweetie.” Mom’s face was so full of hope it made me love her even more. She so desperately wanted me to date, but there just weren’t many single men my age in Lark Cove.
“Maybe.” I sipped my beer, hoping that would be the end of it. I should have known better.
“You should ask him out.” She nudged my elbow with her own. “He’s cute.”
“He, um . . . already kind of asked me out. I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Why not?”
“Is he making you uncomfortable?” Dad’s chest puffed up as he straightened in his chair. “Do I need to talk to him?”
I shook my head and bit back a smile. “No. I’m fine.”
Though I’d love to be a witness to that confrontation. Dad and Mom were both on the smaller end of the human-size spectrum. Mom was an inch shorter than me. Dad was five nine. Jackson had at least fifty pounds of muscle and brawn on him, plus quite a few inches.
But that wouldn’t scare Dad away one bit.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because you looked uncomfortable.”
I shook my head. “Really, Dad. I’m fine. I, um, I’m just not sure what to do about Jackson yet.”
“You’re not sure?” Mom nearly spit out her sip of martini. “You’ve had a crush on him since you were seventeen. I think the obvious answer here is yes.”
“I’ll think about it. Now can we talk about something else?” Anything else. We’d made a pact on my fifteenth birthday never to talk about boys, periods or bras in front of Dad. Maybe I needed to remind her that it was still in place.
“Fine.” Mom shrugged and took another drink. I thought for a minute the discussion was over, but it wasn’t. “Though for the record, I think you two would have the most beautiful blond babies.”
“Mom!” I glared at her, then peeked over my shoulder.
Thankfully, Jackson had gone to the kitchen and hadn’t heard her. I turned back around and gave Dad a pleading stare. He grinned and changed the subject, distracting Mom with a question about my cousin’s baby shower in Kalispell the next weekend.
My shy demeanor certainly didn’t come from my mother’s gene pool. Mom had grown up in Kalispell and my three aunts still lived there with their families. All four of them were as direct and outgoing as you could get. If not for their petite frames and innocent faces, some would have called them rude. But due to their stature, they got labeled “sassy” or “spitfire.”
I loved my aunts dearly, but the annual family reunion was something I’d spend months dreading because my mom was the tamest of the lot. Those get-togethers were always packed full of questions about my love life, or lack thereof, and awkward attempts to set me up with my cousins’ single friends.
“Let’s do a toast.” Dad raised his glass. “To Willa. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and clinked his glass, then Mom’s. “I appreciate all of your help.”
Mom and Dad had both proofread my proposal to the Kendrick Foundation more times than I could count.
We sat and chatted for a while as we waited for Jackson to bring out our pizzas. It didn’t take long for him to deliver all three, carefully squeezing them onto the table between our drinks.
“You guys need anything else?” he asked. “Another martini, Betty?”
“Do you mind?” she asked Dad.
I always thought it was cute when she did that. My mom’s alcohol tolerance was low and after two martinis, she’d be a ball of giggles. She always made sure Dad didn’t care if she got tipsy, which he never did. But she always asked his permission, not because she had to, but because above all else, they were thoughtful of one another.
“Of course not.” He patted her knee. “Go for it. I’ll have another too.”
“Willa?” Jackson asked, nodding to my beer.
I shook my head. “Just a water, please.”
“You got it.” He left us to our meal, smiling at me as he walked away.
Wowzah. I’d seen that smile a hundred times, but rarely had it been just for me. Even though he’d been aiming it at me all week long, I still wasn’t used to it.
A part of me hoped I’d never get used to it. Having a smile steal your breath away was a feeling like none other.
“I’m happy for you,” Mom whispered as she dug into her pizza.
I lifted a slice of my own and gave her a smile. I was still scared. What I’d told Leighton was still true. But there was excitement and happiness there too.
The conversation at our table stopped as the three of us did what we always did at meal time: inhale food. By the time we were done, Mom, Dad and I hadn’t spoken more than one word. Our three pizzas were gone except for a few pieces of discarded crust.
Jackson chuckled, returning to the back of my chair. “I was going to bring you a box, but I see you don’t need one.”
Dad laughed too. “We were hungry.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Just the check.” Mom smiled up at Jackson, her nose a rosy red from the martinis.
“Will do,” he told her. “Willa, you feel like sticking around for a bit?”
“Oh, uh . . . no. I’d better go.”
“Come on. One more beer,” Jackson pleaded. “I had this idea to do something special for Charlie and I wanted to run it by you.”
I hesitated long enough for Mom to make my decision for me.
“Stay, sweetie.” Mom patted my hand. “Your dad and I have business to attend to at home.”
I groaned. “Blargh.”
She giggled and batted her eyelashes at Dad. Two martinis and she was tipsy, even with all that pizza.
Dad was actually looking a little buzzed himself, and when he made a kissy face at her, I decided I’d rather brave time with Jackson than deal with these two as they groped each other on the walk home.
“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll stay for a bit.”
Jackson smiled as victory danced in his sky-blue eyes. “Finally.”
“I’m impressed you guys ate three pizzas,” I told Willa as I loaded up their empty pans.
“We were hungry.” She shrugged, taking her half-full beer glass over to the bar.
Her parents had just left, snuggling together as they’d walked out the door.
Willa pretended to be grossed out by their not-so-subtle innuendo, but as she watched them leave, her dreamy smile told a different story.
As she sat on a stool, I hustled the empty pizza pans to the kitchen sink, then came back to clear the martini glasses and wipe down the table. After I did a lap around the room, making sure the other customers didn’t need anything else, I went back behind the bar and stood across from Willa.
What I really wanted to do was kick everyone out for the night. I’d finally gotten Willa to agree to spend some time with me, and I wanted to give her my undivided attention. But it was busy tonight and I didn’t have another option.
“Want another beer?” I asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and I need to be fresh. Two beers make me a little woogidy the next morning.”
“Woogidy?” I grinned. “That’s not a word.”