This Crazy Love

3. Shay

Chapter Three

Shay

“Coffee?” Jackson asked, as soon as I stepped into the kitchen a bit later.

“Now?”

“In case you didn’t notice, it’s not even eight yet,” he countered with a grin as he turned to look at me.

I had prepped myself for all kinds of things when my brother, Remy, suggested I come here to stay with Ash and Jackson. Ash had been my closest friend growing up, although we’d grown apart a bit in the last few years, and Remy and Jackson had been best friends all the way through college. They stayed in touch, even while Jackson was in the military and overseas and with Remy now living in Alaska.

Remy tended to have opinions about what I should do, and I usually ignored him. In this case though, I needed a change of pace like nobody’s business. I was also more broke than I wanted Remy to know. The disaster of my life was something I was hoping to leave in the rearview mirror.

With Remy’s suggestion and a phone call from Ash, I packed up what little I had and moved back to the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina where I grew up. There had been absolutely nothing to keep me in Chapel Hill anymore, and piles of reasons to leave.

Of all the things I prepared myself to deal with when I arrived here, the sight of Jackson bare-chested with his jeans low on his hips was not on that list. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt after his shower. My mouth went dry and heat bloomed through me.

Somehow, I’d conveniently forgotten how sinfully handsome Jackson was. With his damp brown curls, bright blue eyes, and a body made for sin, I was not ready to deal with my body’s reaction to him.

I tried to take a deep breath, but my lungs weren’t having it. With my pulse zipping along at a flat-out gallop and inconvenient desire spinning like fire in my veins, taking a deep breath appeared to be asking too much. I settled for a slow one, shallow and unsatisfying though it was. I nodded. “Coffee sounds great. I hope I didn’t get here at a bad time.”

Jackson’s piercing blue gaze met mine. “Of course not.”

“Okay,” was about all I could say.

He held my gaze for what felt like too long, something flickering there. When he rested a hand on the counter, his fingers curling around the edge, my eyes tracked the subtle flex of his forearm, heat radiating through me at the sight. Blessedly, he turned away to start the coffee.

You cannot have a thing for Jackson. He’s your brother’s best friend, and he and Ash are doing you a favor. You need this place.

I thought I had my pulse under control until he turned back around, and I was abruptly reminded of the sight of his bare chest. Dear God. I felt as if I’d been cast into some twisted version of hell. This particular version involved me lusting after Jackson, quite inappropriately, when he had told my brother I could stay here as long as I needed. I was flat broke and an emotional disaster inside when it came to men.

“You hungry?” he asked.

I meant to say no, but my stomach had apparently developed its own voice and was able to understand human language. It promptly let out a loud rumble. In all honesty, I hadn’t eaten since the granola bar I had late last night. I’d been anxious to get here today and had driven straight through once I woke in the early morning darkness, too restless and uneasy to sleep.

A slow grin stretched across his face. “I’ll take that as a yes. Will scrambled eggs do?”

I swallowed and nodded, my mouth actually watering at the thought of food. “I can help. And I guess we should talk about, well, things like groceries. I can run to the store today,” I offered, feeling awkward as I stood there in the middle of the kitchen.

“Ash stocked the fridge the day before yesterday before she left. You don’t need to worry about it,” Jackson replied, as he pulled some things out of the refrigerator. “Like I said, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. The bedrooms are empty. It’s not gonna feel right if we’re counting pennies. It might have been a few years, but you and Remy are family in every way it counts. When it’s time to go shopping, whoever happens to take care of it is fine.”

Suddenly, I wanted to cry. Between my body’s abrupt and intense reaction to Jackson and finally arriving somewhere I hoped I could feel safe, I was so discombobulated I couldn’t think clearly. The fear that had ruled my life for the last few years was hard to forget. I was about to cry over groceries and the simple offer of help from an old friend.

I was so accustomed to this emotional roller coaster I just rolled with it. Thank God my lungs worked this time. I took a deep, steadying breath and managed to stem the tide of tears threatening.

“Okay,” I said softly.

Restless, I glanced around. Their kitchen was an old farmhouse style with counters lining three walls on one end and a massive island in the center. It had been updated since I’d last been here. There were new stainless steel appliances, bright blue curtains, and a round table with chairs across from the island.

Stools ran along one side of the island, and I slipped my hips onto one. Glancing over, I saw Jackson had pulled out eggs, a few red peppers, and cheese.

“How about I slice the peppers?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jackson replied.

He handed them over, along with a chopping knife and a cutting board, and I got to work. Within a matter of minutes, he had scrambled eggs with the peppers and cheese ready. I almost groaned when I took the first bite. I hadn’t even noticed how hungry I was.

By the time we finished eating, the sun was fully up and the clock read eight thirty a.m. This lull during our meal felt downright domestic. Amidst my body’s response to Jackson that just wouldn’t quit, I was savoring the simplicity of the moment and how mundane it was.

Once upon a time, I had wished for excitement, a change of pace from the winding roads that brought me back to the Blue Ridge Mountains. No more. All I wanted was peace, quiet, and preferably boredom. I craved a routine where nothing out of the ordinary happened.

After I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, I paused to look out the window over the sink. This farm was tucked into a valley in the mountains. I could see the far end of the pasture outside the window. Mischief stood at the edge of the herd, his head lifted as he looked at something in the distance.

My heart gave a hard thump. I could do this. Maybe, just maybe, I might be glad to be home in these mountains.

* * *

When Jackson left the table to go to the bathroom down the hallway, I figured I would head upstairs to shower. I didn’t know what I was going to do for the rest of today, but I needed to start with a shower. I’d left before dawn this morning for the roughly four-hour drive here and hadn’t even bothered to shower. Seeing as I wasn’t even supposed to be staying in the empty condo where I snuck in late last night, I hadn’t wanted to waste any time there.

As I stepped through the archway from the kitchen into the hall, I ran smack into Jackson.

“Oh!”

When I collided with him, my body felt as if it had been shocked with a live wire. I needed to move away, but for some reason I couldn’t do it quick enough. For just a moment, maybe even seconds, I stood there frozen, right where his arms had come around to steady me when I stumbled at the impact.

Let’s face it, running into Jackson was an impact. He was basically a wall of muscle. And he was warm and alive under my palm where it landed over his heartbeat. When I looked up, I almost wondered if I saw desire in his eyes, his blue gaze darkening.

Just as I became aware of the hard and rapid beat of his heart under my palm, I gathered myself together enough to step away. Tangling within this oh-so-inconvenient desire for Jackson was this urge to wrap myself in his strength.

Jackson was a good man. I knew that, without a doubt. He was not the kind of man to ever use his strength against a woman.

I had completely underestimated how much I craved being held. I knew my cheeks were flaming red when I looked up at him. He was quiet, his eyes searching my face. I wished I knew how to read his expression, but I had far too many doubts about my ability to perceive anyone accurately anymore.

With another one of his slow smiles, he winked. “Slow down.”

“Um, okay,” I muttered and hurried past him, practically running up the stairs.

I loved the charm of this old house, with its wide plank glossy hardwood floors, its tall ceilings, and windows deep enough for me to stand in. Yet, I promptly discovered one drawback. I wasn’t a spoiled girl, but I wouldn’t have minded having a bathroom right off my bedroom. As it was, I had stripped down to nothing before it occurred to me I needed to walk down the hallway to get to the bathroom.

Glancing out my window, I saw Jackson ambling toward the pasture as Mischief trotted to meet him at the gate. Clearly, he would be busy with something for a little bit. I grabbed a towel from the tidy stack on the dresser and wrapped it around me before running down the hallway with my bag of toiletries.

After a steamy shower, I felt half human and convinced I could get my body’s runaway response to Jackson under control. With a deep breath, I tucked the towel under my arms and peeked out the doorway. Once I was sure the coast was clear, I stepped out.

It so happened my bedroom was at the far end of the long hallway from the bathroom. I tiptoed quickly down the hall. Just when I thought I was in the clear, the door at an angle across from my bedroom opened. I nearly jumped out of my skin and dropped my towel on the floor.