He rose from the bed and motioned to me that he was headed downstairs. His phone conversation continued as he made his way down the stairs, the sound of his voice disappearing as he moved through the house.
I looked around briefly—for what, I wasn’t sure—and I finally decided to get up. I’d never spent the night at a man’s house without dying to vacate the premises as soon as the sun broke over the horizon.
Mia was right. I really was kind of like a dude.
Over the years, I’d convinced myself that it was because I was a solitary person who enjoyed my alone time. I’d hated staying over at a man’s house because it was foreign to me—different bed, strange sheets, and unhealthy food options in the morning. But really, it had nothing to do with any of that.
The majority of my adult life, I had been living with a genuine fear of intimacy when it came to members of the opposite sex. I thrived on exploring emotions in other areas of my life—both professionally and personally—but when it came to my love life, I would close myself off.
Until now.
Jackson’s mattress felt different, and his sheets were definitely new, but none of that mattered anymore because of him. If I went downstairs and all he had to serve me was Pop-Tarts and Frosted Flakes, I’d happily take it.
Because it was Jackson.
I wasn’t ready to walk down the aisle or buy a minivan quite yet, but at least I could get out of this bed, walk down the stairs, and know that I was where I was supposed to be.
For once in my life, I wasn’t closing myself off to the possibility of more.
Jackson
After setting the coffee maker to brew, I headed to my desk and flipped open my laptop.
I might have called in sick, but I still had a few things to accomplish remotely.
I logged in and waited for everything to boot up, my eyes shifting toward the window where I could see Liv’s house next door.
I’d felt raw fear only a handful of times in my life.
When I’d awoken to find Natalie and every shred of her existence gone from my life, the dread of being a single father had hit me hard.
She’d left nothing but a note—a single sentence.
I’m not meant for either of you.
After walking into the tiny room we had converted into a nursery, I’d looked down at my newborn son and wept. I’d barely figured out how to be a father. How could I ever replace a mother?
But somehow, I had been enough.
Other times in my life, like when Noah fell or was injured, I’d experience that heart-stopping sensation because life had suddenly changed and things would always be different.
I’d felt it again last night as I walked up to Liv’s door and heard her fragile voice begging for mercy.
Anger had welled up in my veins, and I’d surged ahead to take down the intruder who dared to lay a hand on her, but behind the all-consuming rage had been raw fear.
What if I had been too late? What if she had already been hurt?
Even after finding her untouched and unharmed, my anxiety hadn’t lessened. The fluttering feeling in my gut had still twisted and turned me into knots.
But now, everything was over, and she was here, safe and sound, yet I still worried.
Would she pull away now?
I realized I had been gazing out the window for probably eons as my mind went on endlessly without reason.
Focusing back on the task at hand, I turned to my computer and pulled up the Internet browser.
Right now, I needed to focus—at least for a couple of minutes.
Taking the day off wasn’t a problem. Normally, I wouldn’t be asked to do much of anything, but a potential high-profile client would be visiting the firm tomorrow, so Mark wanted me prepped and ready for when the Senator walked through the door, which meant I had to do research. I was expected to know as much as possible by tomorrow morning. If I wanted to spend today with Liv, then I needed to start cramming.
Most of the information I found, I’d already learned from watching the news and reading the paper. Senator Prescott was the son of a local farmer. He was the top in his high school class, and he’d gone on to study political science at the University of Virginia. He’d received his law degree from Princeton, passed the bar, and taken his first position as a junior associate back in his home state of Virginia. He was married with one daughter— “What are you doing?”
I turned around to see Liv frozen behind me with a mix of shock and horror written all over her face.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Bit of research for work.”
“You’re researching Senator Prescott?” She folded her arms across her chest.
I nodded, motioning toward the article on the screen. She stepped forward to take a closer look at the photo towards the bottom. It was an older one from when he’d first run for state senate. It showed him up on stage, much younger-looking, waving to the crowd with his proud wife and child behind him.
Glancing up at Liv, I was about to explain the firm’s opportunity, but I was halted by the look of pure devastation spread across her features.
“I loved that dress,” she said softly.