No sirree. He was still the same playboy he’d been for years.
Despite all the floozies and bimbos, I’d never stopped crushing on Jackson and I’d never stopped watching for him. It was just easier to do now that I was old enough to go into the bar.
Tonight was different though. Tonight, it was just the two of us. Not once in nine years had we shared a space alone. And because he wasn’t putting on a show for his customers or flirting with every woman in Flathead County—well, except me—I saw something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.
Loneliness.
Deep, dark, empty loneliness.
I wanted to jump off my swing and hug it out of him.
Had Jackson always been lonely? Had I been so mesmerized by his handsome face that I’d missed this all along?
Outside of Thea and Hazel at the bar, I’d never seen him around town with a buddy. He’d never had a passenger in his truck or a partner in his fishing boat. The few times I’d seen him at the diner, he’d been eating alone.
Year after year of watching, it was sufficient to say that I’d become an expert on all things Jackson Page.
So how had I missed this loneliness he wore for all the stars to see?
I let my feet dangle and my swing slowed. Jackson gave his a few more pumps but then stopped too. As the two of us rocked back and forth, I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to speak.
“Are you okay, Jackson?”
His shoulders sagged, digging into the chains. He looked over with a sad smile. “I’m having a rough night.”
“Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
He looked out over the grass. “It’s crazy, don’t you think? That after all these years, this guy shows up and all of a sudden Charlie has a dad?”
I didn’t know if Logan’s appearance would spell miracle or disaster for Thea and Charlie. But I did know that Jackson loved that little girl like his own. “For what it’s worth, I spent some time with Logan today. He seems genuinely nice.”
Jackson shrugged. “We’ll see. Thea never said anything bad about him, but I don’t trust the guy. I just . . . don’t want things to change.”
I didn’t have anything wise to say or advice to offer. So I shuffled my feet, scooting my swing a bit closer to his before reaching over to give him a reassuring touch.
The moment my hand settled on his forearm, an electric shock zapped my fingers. What was that? I almost pulled back to examine my palm but stopped, not wanting to let him go. I’d never touched Jackson before, not even to shake his hand.
His face whipped to mine, his eyes widening. Focusing.
My breath caught at the intensity of his gaze, but I still didn’t remove my hand. Instead, I wobbled a smile and stroked his skin with my thumb.
His eyes softened. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime.” With my cue to let go, I picked up my feet and swung back to my groove.
He pushed off the ground, resuming an easy swing. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just counting shooting stars.” My eyes tipped up to the sky just in time to see another. “There.” My finger shot in the air. “Did you see it?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t they pretty?”
“Beautiful.” But he wasn’t staring at the sky. He was looking at me.
I blushed and dropped my arm as my heartbeat raced. Had Jackson just called me beautiful? Because it seemed like it. I didn’t have a lot of experience with men. None really. But that definitely sounded like flirting. And gosh, I liked it.
“Sure are a lot of stars. You don’t see stars like this in the city.”
I nodded. “I love it out here. I come out as much as I can in the summer to enjoy them. I live right over there.” I pointed past him to the back of my parents’ house. “Above the garage.” Yes, it was borderline loser to live twenty feet from my parents, but it was free and there wasn’t a huge rental market in Lark Cove.
Jackson’s boots skidded on the wood chips as he stopped his swing and stood. With his hand extended, he nodded to my place. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
I practically flew out of my seat. The minute my fingers slid against his palm, I got another one of those zaps. My breathing came in erratic pants rather than smooth ins and outs as he led me toward my house. With every step, I wished home wasn’t so close and my mom’s garden miles away, not just yards.
I tried not to wiggle my fingers, keeping them still in his grip so he wouldn’t let me go. But I was so excited to be holding Jackson’s hand, it was nearly impossible. Every atom in my body was buzzing. Never before had electrons whirled around protons and neutrons so fast.
Much too soon, we reached the base of the staircase that ran up the backside of the garage. I’d expected him to let go of my hand, but he didn’t. He towered over my five-five with an odd stare.
Maybe it was the light, or lack thereof, but his eyes seemed duller than usual, the blue clouded by a slight haze, and they looked tired.
I would stand here forever holding Jackson’s hand, but as exhaustion rolled off his wide shoulders, I reluctantly slipped my hand free. “I, um . . . thanks. Maybe we could—”
One moment I was trying to find the words to ask him out to dinner. The next, he was kissing me.
Jackson Page was kissing me.
On the lips.
His thick hands came to my cheeks. His calloused fingers slipped into the roots of my hair. And his tongue ran over my bottom lip.
My eyes went wide. Was this happening? His eyelids were closed. His nose was brushing mine. Our mouths were touching.
Jackson Page was kissing me. On. The. Lips!
I couldn’t not smile. When I did, he took advantage of the part in my lips and his tongue slid inside, tickling the inside of my cheek.
I gasped and turned to mush. Gripping his forearms so I wouldn’t fall, I relaxed completely into his kiss, letting my eyelids fall. His taste was incredible. It was minty with a hint of citrus. There was something else on his tongue too, but I wasn’t sure what.
Hesitantly, I stroked my tongue against his. I had no idea if I was doing this right, but when Jackson moaned into my mouth, I did it again.
From there, whatever he did, I copied. When he crested his tongue over my top lip, I did the same to his bottom. When he nipped at the corner of my mouth, I gave him one right back. And when he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, I waited until his was free, then did the same.
It was hot and wet and magic.
The scruff on his jaw made the skin around my lips the exact right amount of raw. An ache unlike anything I’d felt before curled in my belly. A throb pulsed between my legs. Without thinking, I shuffled my hips closer, brushing against the hardness in his jeans.
He hissed, sending a blast of air between us that cooled the wet skin above my lip. Then after one last lick, he pulled away.
“Sorry,” he whispered, not letting go of my face. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” I breathed. “Don’t be sorry.”
Because I’d never be sorry for that kiss.
My first kiss.
Something I’d avoided for years because I’d been waiting for this kiss with Jackson.
“I’d better go.” His hands dropped from my face and he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. Then he backed away three steps before turning around. Even then, he glanced over his shoulder a couple of times as he walked through my parents’ yard.
I waved and hurried up my stairs. The minute I closed the door behind me, I went to the window beside the door since it overlooked the playground. Crouched on my floor, hidden behind a curtain, I watched as Jackson passed the swings and the silver slide. It didn’t take him long to step back onto the sidewalk and turn toward his house.
When he disappeared behind the corner of the school, I sank to the floor and let a happy grin stretch my cheeks.
After years of watching and waiting and hoping, Jackson had finally noticed me.
Me, the shy girl who’d loved him from a distance. Tonight, he’d made one of my dreams come true.