Bryce is stable, a few years older, smart. If she couldn’t have Jackson, he wasn’t a bad choice.
“Were?” He’d always been her rock, her guiding light in the darkest moments. His reassurances were what had gotten her through her parents’ divorce, and when his father had died, he’d reassured her then, too, when she should have been his rock.
“We’ve gotten a little smarter, which reminds me—what’s happening with the Zac Posen interview?” He stepped over a big rock and held out a hand to help her. “Careful.”
Bryce doesn’t know the first thing about hiking or the outdoors. She didn’t like the way her mind kept comparing the two men, but how could she not?
She climbed over the rock, and as soon as she was safely on the other side, he released her hand. She stifled a frustrated exhalation and focused on answering his question. “His people are talking to my people.”
He smiled at that. They both hated when people spoke of their “people,” but even that didn’t bring his focus back to her in the way she’d hoped.
“I told you that Heath would hook you up with Josh Braden.” Josh was a world-renowned designer whose family lived in Weston, Colorado, where Jackson’s mother had grown up. At his father’s suggestion, Jackson and his brothers had spent a few weeks every summer on the Braden ranch building character and learning the value of hard work. It must have worked, because each of the Wild men were excellent outdoorsmen, and they were loyal, honest men, who took their careers, and their family, seriously.
Bryce thinks my career is interesting when he talks about it with others, like he’s proud of what I do. But he rarely takes interest in my day-to-day accomplishments or troubles.
“I appreciate the offer, but I want to do this on my own. I know Josh Braden would be a killer interview, but still.” Jackson had guided her and had helped her find her footing when she’d first started her magazine, but she was proud of securing interviews with the elite fashion moguls of the world on her own, primarily with her own relentless marketing and the superior reputation she’d gained. In truth, Zac Posen’s staff had been dicking her around for weeks. But she wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet.
He held an arm out, stopping her from walking past, and pointed down at a snake slithering over a rock. Once it disappeared into the underbrush, he tugged her a few feet in the other direction, giving the snake a wide berth.
“You’ll nail Posen. You always get what you want.”
For the first time ever she thought he was lying. This time she wouldn’t get what she wanted. As they trudged up the mountain, she stewed over his tone. She could usually read him so easily, but after the morning they’d had, she couldn’t tell if he’d said that she always got what she wanted as a barb or as a compliment. Could he think that she’d wanted Bryce to propose? Had she wanted him to?
A future with Bryce would be stable. He would never cheat, and he doesn’t seem to lie about anything. Life with him would be easy. They’d wake at six, kiss goodbye at seven, meet for dinner at seven, and go to bed by ten. Sex three times a week—missionary, but it still felt good. Wash, rinse, repeat—forever.
God…
She was still mulling that thought over when they came to the end of the thickly forested area. Without the cover of the trees, they had a clear view of the dark, menacing sky. That’s fitting. The land fell away to the right in a steep slope of tall grass and shrubs, with patches of trees dotting the landscape. It would have been a beautiful scene, had it been a sunny afternoon, but with the deep blues and grays hovering above them and moisture thickening the air, it looked like she felt. Confused and angry.
Bryce is the epitome of stable.
Safe.
Boring.
She’d felt a tug of longing when both Logan and Heath had fallen in love. Who wouldn’t? The Wild men knew how to love their women. Not to mention that if Logan—a guy who had erected concrete walls around his heart—could fall in love and commit to one woman, then surely Jackson could.
“Oh shit.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with her slip.
“You can say that again,” he said, looking up at the sky.
Thank God that’s what he thought she was referring to, because the oh shit had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the realization that she might have been hoping for commitment after all—but it sure as hell wasn’t from Bryce.
Jackson is rugged, edgy, and exciting.
So damn exciting he made her heart race, even now as he settled one hand on his hip and checked his watch. She knew he’d exhale, then run a hand through his hair, a different type of predictable than Bryce. Jackson’s mannerisms might be familiar, but he wasn’t at all predictable when it came to intimacy and moods. He could be hot or cold in minutes.
But he always took care of her.