“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “Drop the macho act for thirty seconds, then you can go back to dragging your knuckles.”
He shook his head and dunked the bread in oil. Jackson had never really understood the appeal of Italian food, but he had to admit the Italians did know their way around bread.
“You know, most women like the macho thing,” he said, chewing his bread.
“Yeah, in bed,” Mollie said. “But dinner at a nice place? Well, let’s just say we don’t mind a little beta.”
“Beta?”
“Jackson Burke, are you intentionally trying to avoid answering questions about my sister?”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Fine. You want to do this? Sure. Yes, she ripped my heart out. Yes, she left me when I needed her the most, and it fucking hurt. Okay? Even though things were awful between us long before that, when I was in the hospital…well, it would have been nice if she could have waited. Now, are we good, or should we stop on the way home and get me a diary and a soft pink blanket to snuggle?”
Mollie studied him. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. About the other women, I mean.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It was almost a year ago. And your sister told you I was a man whore, so…”
She reached across the table. “You’re my friend. I should have ranked that higher than I did.”
Jackson was a little shocked at just how much her apology meant, and surprised them both by flipping his hand over so that they were palm to palm.
She jolted a little at the contact but didn’t pull away. He didn’t either.
He told himself it was just a friendly touch—a thank-you for being there. For being Mollie.
But there was nothing friendly about the way touching her made his pulse quicken and his cock harden. When she’d walked out of her bedroom tonight in that damn red dress…hell. He’d just barely stopped having nightly fantasies about taking that dress off her after the last time he saw her in it. Now he was going to have to start all over again, remembering that under no circumstances would he be fulfilling his fantasy of pulling it off her, seeing what was underneath, setting his mouth against her smooth skin, and…
“How are we doing? Ready to place entree orders yet?” their waitress asked, appearing out of nowhere.
Mollie jerked her hand back so quickly she nearly knocked over her water glass, but Jackson could have hugged their server for preventing him from saying or doing something fantastically stupid.
The waitress disappeared again after taking their order, and Mollie’s usual bright, friendly smile was back in place. “Okay, so about this interview. You know you could get anyone, right? The Today show. Oprah. Anyone.”
He gave a grim smile. “Yeah, but with Oxford I might actually have a chance of coming out ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…they’re friends. Sort of. Or they could be if—” He stopped.
“If what?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered, taking another sip of his drink.
“Jackson, do you want these people to like you?”
He swallowed, refusing to answer out loud, but looked across the table at her, willing her to understand. He saw it the minute that she did.
She leaned back and tapped her fingers against the table, as though struck with a brilliant idea. “We should have a party.”
He frowned. “Um, what?”
“A big cocktail party. At your place. Our place. Right before the interview. Spend all your trillions of dollars.”
He smiled, seeing right through her plan. “You want to bribe them to write good stuff about me?”
“No,” she said softly. “I just want them to have a chance.”
“A chance for what?”
“To know you. You’re a good man, Jackson Burke. Even if you don’t think so.”
He grunted. “Nobody thinks so these days.”
“I do.”
His chest tightened. “Mollie—”
Jackson’s phone buzzed in his pocket, ruining the potential moment, and he pulled it out to silence it.
He froze when he saw the name.
“Shit.”
“Lincoln again?”
Jackson shook his head.
“Ah,” she said, setting her water glass down. “Madison.”
Jackson nodded.
“You can answer it.”
“Jesus, Mollie. I’m not going to answer a call in the middle of dinner with another woman.”
“But you want to,” she challenged.
“I don’t,” he said emphatically, putting his phone away to prove it. “I don’t want to talk to her now, or ever. But at the same time…” He searched her face. “She’s always going to be there, Mollie. I look at you, and I see you, I do, but I also see—”
“Her,” Mollie finished flatly.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
“I get it,” she said. “Madison’s the most important person in the world to me, and it’s…it’s complicated.”
Jackson gave a wry smile, and because he knew her, he understood what she was saying—and what she wasn’t.
But as he let Mollie steer the conversation back to safer topics—work, and the delicious food, and interview etiquette—he couldn’t stop watching her and wondering if this was one case where complicated would be absolutely fucking worth it.
Chapter 16