His neck as tight as if a boa constrictor bore down on him, Jackson shoved away from the couch and paced the living room. She doesn’t want to have sex with me? Am I doing something wrong? Am I not giving her the pleasure she needs? What?
Sex with Blaire was fantastic. Sex with Blaire was better than food. Sex with Blaire made him forget everything, but how much he loved her and how loved he felt by her, two things he couldn’t ever get enough of in this lifetime.
But then he wondered if he came across as needy…like a child. The noose-like sensation around his neck made it hard to catch his breath.
The dogs grew excited and began to twirl around his legs.
Stumbling, Jackson stormed toward the patio door, opened it, and said, “Out.”
The dogs pranced outside into the twilight, probably thinking they were all going to go out into the yard and play fetch or something.
When he closed the door between them, they looked at him with sorrowful gazes, as if betrayed.
He stalked back into the front room, trying to quell his panic. His boots seemed to pound the floor with excessive force.
“I didn’t say quit sex. I only said cool it down a little. We have sex all the time,” Blaire said, her eyes so wide the whites showed around the edges of her irises.
“I thought you liked having sex with me,” Jackson said, spreading his arms wide.
“I love having sex with you, Jackson. It’s hotter than any fire you put out in your job,” she said, fanning her face. “I really do.”
“Is this about Jake? I told you I’ll fix things. I’ll make it right. I promise,” he said, desperation grinding at his insides like sand against an open wound.
“Not entirely,” she said, her gaze shifting away from him. “There are other reasons.”
He moved toward the sofa and sat down next to her. After taking a long, slow breath, he said, “So what’s this about?”
“Well,” she said slowly, brushing her palms against her thighs. “I went to Purple Vines the other night when you were on your twenty-four-hour shift.”
“Okay,” he said, running his hand over his head. Is she going to tell me she went out on a date? “I used to go to that place a lot before I met you.”
“I know,” she said, a small smile forming on her pretty face. “Ryder told me.”
“Ryder?” His mind whirled, hoping that wasn’t her date. “Who the fuck is Ryder?”
“He’s a waiter. He said he really liked you and wants us to come back and see him sometime.”
He massaged his forehead with his fingertips. “Oh, right. That guy. Yeah. He used to shoot the shit with Grifter and me. Nice guy.”
“Yes.” Blaire picked at her fingernail—the one she’d recently chipped with the same nervous habit.
He took a deep breath, calming himself the way he did with patients out in the field. He forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “So, you went to Purple Vines and…?”
“I went with Lola.” She clutched her hands together and sought his gaze.
“Okay. Facts are established. You went with Lola to Purple Vines; you saw Ryder, and he told you that I used to go there with the Grifter.”
“Right.” Blaire forced herself not to pick at her fingernail. “He even had the chef slip me an extra crab cake because I looked like I was having a hard day.”
He inched closer to her. “Were you having a hard day?”
She nodded and blinked.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” he said, softly, reaching out to push her hair behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, so he took that as a good sign. “I could have helped.”
He leaned in and nuzzled the tip of her nose with his. Then, he lowered his lips to kiss her.
She yielded to him for a few seconds, and then pulled away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “Stop. This is what I mean. It’s too easy to get distracted by you.”
His forehead furrowed. “Okay, you still need to talk. What was your bad day about?”
Her gaze flitted away from him. “Um…well…that we fought the other night.”
“What, about Jake? That argument where you threatened to leave me?” He swallowed back the memory.
“I didn’t really threaten to leave you. But, yeah, that’s the one.” She smiled like he’d scored the answer in a game show.
“It sounded like a threat to me. But I thought we got over it and moved on to phase two of the argument—‘Jackson goes behind my back and plans something without consulting me.’”
“You’re sarcastic,” she said.
“Realistic,” he said. “I thought we’d moved on. I thought we moved on a second ago, too. I told you I’ll change.”
“But did we really?” she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Jackson tugged on his earlobe. “Yes, Blaire, we really did. Or, at least I really did. I’ve moved on and am acting on my commitment to deal with Jake. Apparently, you’re still hanging on.” This whole conversation baffled him. Is she lying to me?
Being lied to by his fucked-up brother was one thing. But his girlfriend? No. That was a deal-breaker.
“Funny thing,” she said, shifting in her seat. “Lola’s mom is a sex therapist. And she told Lola that sometimes the sex masks the issues. We could be having really good sex, and it might be covering up deeper things that need to be addressed.”
“Deeper things like what?” Jackson’s jaw became rigid.
Blaire began picking her nail again. She closed her fingers over her thumbs. “Oh, like, our pasts. You know what we did before we met.”
The rigidity of his jaw spread to his torso, tightening his lungs. He lived for the now, not the fucked-up way he and Jake had raised themselves. He sure didn’t want to burden Blaire with his past. She deserved the good parts—the parts he’d fought to find—not the sorry mess of his growing up.
Anger sparked inside. “So now we take advice about how to conduct our relationship with your salon owner’s mother? And just how much did you share about us? What did you say?”
Blaire blinked. “I didn’t say anything about us except how much I love you and how I don’t want anything to tear us apart.”
He shook his head, bewildered. When he spoke again, he let his words emerge slow and measured. “Blaire. What are you worried will break us apart?”
“Things we don’t know about one another, that’s what,” she blurted.
Jackson pursed his lips, hesitating, unsure how to deal.
“Come here,” he finally said, reaching for her.
She scooted into his embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Baby, baby, baby. The stars shined down on me when I met you. I love you more than anything. And I will fight to love you. But I’m not so sure telling you about my past is a good idea. My past sucks. And, from what you’ve told me, you had a normal childhood, living in a busy household. Am I right, or did I miss something?”
She snaked her arms around his back and pressed the side of her face into his chest. “That’s right. I did. Not much to speak of there. Mom, Dad, five kids, sometimes three dogs and two cats…pretty ordinary.”
He released his hold on her and leaned back so he could meet her gaze. “So how will learning about my past help us in our present?”
She glanced away and then back to him. “It could, um…it might deepen our bond. Or something…” Her words faded away.
He frowned. “I don’t think you’ll want to hear what it was like for Jake and me.”
Her smile melted his insides into soft, gooey mushiness.
“Christ. I don’t stand a chance when you look at me that way.” He pulled her close again. “So…I’m going to go change out of my uniform…and then, where would you like to start?”