with groveling.
Every other relationship I’d had—and I’m using the term relationship loosely here—I’d fucked up somehow, either intentionally, like by taking off in the middle of the night without leaving a note, or unintentionally, like the time I’d called a woman Caroline instead of Catherine. While she had my dick in her mouth. Ouch.
But each time, I’d shrugged and moved on. I’d never cared enough to want to fix things.
Okay, I’m not proud, but that was Old Jackson.
New Jackson didn’t want to fuck this up.
And that meant I needed to learn how to grovel, fast.
Marlee, clutching her stack of romance novels, had tried to coach me every day for the past week. She’d said things about admitting fault and being vulnerable and expressing my feelings. She’d mentioned a spectacular entrance, gifts, sweeping her off her feet—and I got the weird feeling she meant literally.
Cooper had no advice for me. He’d stared out the window in the car on the way to the airport and in the jet all the way to Texas. It didn’t bother me. We never talked about feelings.
His silence had given me time to work through a few dozen emails. Setting up a foundation was fucking hard. Who knew you couldn’t do it in three weeks? Once I got someone on board to lead the foundation, we could set up some camps. Until then, we’d funnel the cash to organizations that helped kids with ADHD, dyslexia, autism, Tourette’s, and OCD. I was sure I’d discover other causes related to neurodivergence, too.
We split up at the airport. Cooper headed for the office’s holiday party, and I went straight to Cherrywood.
The clouds hung low over the Webers’ yellow house that afternoon. They weren’t green like they’d been the day I’d met Alicia outside the Synergy office, but the bottoms were dark and heavy. It’d be fitting if Austin decided to unleash some fresh meteorological hell on me.
My mission was too important to be deterred by hail or tornadoes or raining bats. I squared my shoulders and strode up the Webers’ front walk clutching a bouquet of grocery-store flowers. Give me a little credit; they were from the fancy organic grocery store I’d passed on the way from the airport.
I knocked on the purple door.
The porchlight turned on, then the door opened. Alicia’s mother, Diane, leaned in the doorway in a pair of jeans and a striped sweater. She squinted at me through the screen. “What are you doing here?”
So much for Southern hospitality. Not that I deserved it. “Good afternoon, Ms. Weber. Is Alicia here?”
She crossed her arms. “No, she’s at work.”
Silence stretched between us. “Do you know when she’ll be home?”
“I don’t know that that’s any of your business, Mr. Jones. She said things didn’t end so well between you two.”
End? I gulped. But of course no one thought I’d come back. “No, and that’s my fault. I’m here to apologize. Mind if I come in?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Jones. I think you’ve hurt my daughter enough. You can wait in your car. Or, even better, I’ll tell her you stopped by, and she can call you if she wants to speak to you.”
She closed the door, leaving me staring at purple paint. Shit, I should’ve brought wine or chocolates to ease my way into the Weber household.
“I guess I’ll wait,” I muttered. I plunked myself down on the top porch step and stared out into the street like she’d be arriving at any moment. I laid the flowers next to me and shoved my hands in my pockets. A raindrop splatted on the toe of my boot.
The trees were bare now, their twisted limbs curling up into the darkening sky. Coolness seeped through my jeans from the wood floorboards of the porch, making me shiver. A few more raindrops pattered down, and I tucked my boots closer under the porch. Suffering had to be part of groveling, right? It had been my frenemy since I’d left Austin over a month ago.
The front door groaned open again, and this time the screen door swung out. Slow footsteps approached.
“Want some coffee?”
I smelled it at the same time he said it, and the scent of the brew made my spine straighten. “Yes, please.”
Noah handed me a mug. He held another mug in his other hand, hot chocolate from the smell of it. He sat beside me.
I smiled. One member of the Weber household didn’t hate me. “It’s pretty cold out here, buddy. And wet. You going to be okay?”
He snorted. “You going to be okay? Seems like I can go back in the house whenever I want while you’re stuck out here in the rain like a loser, waiting for Alicia to come kick your ass.”
Oh. So it was going to be like that.
I looked down into my mug of coffee and sniffed it. Could you smell rat poison? I set it aside. “How’s school going?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m in Ms. Fraser’s class now. And I’m taking some medicine to help me pay attention in class.”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe. I got an A on my math test last week.”
“That’s great. And the other kids are leaving you alone? No more shiners?”
“Nah. The school counselor did a lesson on treating others with respect. And Alicia made me practice using my words.” He sipped his cocoa. “Seems like you should’ve used some words, too.”
“I guess she told you what I did.”
“She didn’t have to. First you came around here, saying you’d take me to the racetrack. Help me with homework. Teach me how to throw a punch. Then you were gone. Alicia said you went back to California. And she got this look on her face when I asked about you.” He wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Like that.”
“I guess when you look at it like that… No. Any way you look at it, I’m an asshole.”
“Yep. So. What are you doing here?”
“I came to grovel.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to apologize for what I did. Tell her I love her. And ask her to take me back. Think it’ll work?”
He ran his gaze over me. The collared shirt. The flowers. The flashy but worn-in boots. “I don’t know. You don’t seem like the other guys she’s dated.”
I ducked my head. “She’s dated a lot of guys, huh?” A fantastic woman like Alicia had to have a line of guys waiting to date her.
“Not a lot. Some. My friend Palmer’s dad, Rick. He wears a tie to work. Took her out to dinner and stuff. Took all four of us out for hamburgers and ice cream once. You ever take her out?”
“Not—not exactly.” She’d taken me to see the bats that night. Then I’d blown the opportunity to take her out and show her I cared.
He squinted one eye at me. “I don’t think your chances are too good, then.”
“I brought flowers.” I held them up. One of the big chrysanthemums drooped.
He curled his lip. “Did she say she likes flowers?”
“I—I didn’t ask.” Marlee liked flowers. She squeed whenever I sent them for Administrative Professionals’ Day. And she wore floral prints all the time. But I’d never seen Alicia in a print at all. Only solid colors. None of them particularly flower-like. Crap.
“Know what she likes?”
“What?” I’d run out and get it. I had time.
“Dudes who aren’t assholes.”
“Oh.” I slouched. He was right. What the fuck was I doing there, freezing my ass off on her porch?
He slurped the last of his hot chocolate. “I’m going in to get warm. If I don’t see you again, bye.”
I gave him a half-smile. “Bye, Noah. But I’m staying until she gets here.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
The screen door slammed behind him. A light flared above me—Christmas lights. The old-fashioned multicolored strand ran across the eaves of the porch in a straight line. Alicia’s work, I guessed. Lights flicked to life in the pair of trees growing closest to the house. Those were pink, blue, and purple, and their haphazard pattern hinted at another family member’s effort.
A car pulled up under the carport across the street. A man got out and squinted at me before he turned and walked into the house. A minute later, a phone rang inside Alicia’s house, but I couldn’t hear the person who answered. The rain had picked up into a roaring downpour that splashed my boots and the bottoms of my jeans. I tucked myself further under the porch’s overhang.
A meow came from behind me, and a fat orange tabby cat wearing a blue collar squeezed through the flap in the door. Was this the same cat who’d hissed at me the night I’d had dinner here? What was his name?
He tiptoed around me, sniffed the wilted bouquet, and plunked himself down on the porch, an arm’s length away. He meowed again. I stretched out my arm and let him sniff my hand before I stroked him between the ears. He closed his eyes, and I glanced at the tag on his collar. Tigger. Yes, he was Alicia’s cat.
“You don’t hate me, do you, big guy? You know I’m here to try to make it up to her, right?”
He meowed and rubbed the side of his face against my hand.
“Yeah, we’re pals. You’ll vouch for me. Tell them I’m not a complete asshole. And then we’ll be best friends. I’ll bring you tuna treats.”
He stopped rubbing my hand. His eyelids burst open, my only warning before he nipped my forefinger.
“Ow!” I snatched my hand back. “Not a fan of tuna, huh?”
He turned around, swished his tail at me, and bounded through the cat door with a snap.
Two drops of blood welled up on my knuckle. “Tough crowd.” I stuck my knuckle in my mouth.
A few pickup trucks and a delivery van rumbled past. I checked my watch. It was after five. Maybe Alicia would come home soon. I should plan what I wanted to say.
I leaned back on my elbows and stared up at the ceiling. It was painted a comforting robin’s-egg blue. Maybe someday I could have a front porch with a blue ceiling. Alicia and I could sit in the porch swing
The screen door slammed shut again. Noah stomped out, but instead of sitting beside me, he leaned against the post. “Still here, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“I brought you a sweatshirt. It’s Alicia’s, but it’s pretty big.” He held out a gray hoodie with an orange longhorn symbol above the kangaroo pocket.
“Thanks.” I took it from him and wrestled it on. Maybe it was big for Alicia, but it fit snugly on me. Instantly warmer, I breathed in Alicia’s familiar, clean smell.
He bounded back through the door, and I settled in to wait.
Close to an hour later, Alicia’s Honda rolled down the street. I didn’t know right away it was Alicia’s—she drove the world’s most nondescript car—but I hoped. And when it turned up the driveway, I knew my gut hadn’t misled me.
I stood, wincing at the aches that rocketed through my muscles. My ass tingled as the blood flow resumed. The car door opened, and a black umbrella poked out. The car door closed, and the umbrella made brisk progress along the walk and up the porch stairs. Then it tilted back, and when she saw me, her face blanched.
Alicia wore black slacks and boots—city ones, not western ones like mine. Her raincoat hung open, showing a light-blue blouse with a few rain splotches on it. Her hair was swept back from her face in the bun she always wore at work. Her makeup did a poor job of covering the purple smudges under her eyes, and her lipstick had worn off, leaving her lips pale. I wanted to kiss the tremble out of them, to fold her in my arms, wet coat and all, and warm her up. Undress her slowly and put her in the shower. Tuck her into bed where she could sleep off the week. Hold her close until the shadows faded from her eyes.
But I’d hurt her. If I was the reason she was exhausted and miserable, I didn’t have the right to do any of that. Not yet. Maybe never.
I took a step toward her, my hands dangling, useless, at my sides. “Hi, Alicia.”
Her lips tightened. “Why are you here, Jackson?”
I tried to flash her a winning smile. Not too much. Friendly, but not too snake-oil-salesman. But my face was chilled, and I managed only a grimace. “To apologize. I left Austin without saying good-bye. I didn’t text you back or call to explain. For all that, I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you do it? Why’d you leave?” She leaned the umbrella against one of the porch posts and crossed her arms.
“Partly because—well, I can’t tell you about it or Cooper will have my nuts. But mostly because I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t good enough for you, and I didn’t want to ruin your business or—or your life.” I gestured behind me at the purple door. “But, you see, I’ve taken some steps to change. I’ve set up—”
She stopped me, mid-reach for the foundation charter in my pocket.
“I didn’t want you to change. I wanted you just the way you were, here in Austin. The man I—I fell for.”
My heart revved like a racecar at the starting line. “But I had to change. For me. I had to feel worthy myself before I could try to convince you I deserved another chance.” I poured all the hope, all the love I had into the gaze I locked onto her. Give me another chance.
Her lips thinned. “It’s too late.”
“Too late?” Marlee hadn’t told me a grovel could come too late. She said the heroine always forgave the hero.
“I can’t do this.” She looked away, an unshed tear sparkling green in the Christmas lights.
“You can’t do forever with me? Because that’s what I want.” Fuck, I should’ve bought her a ring. Even Marlee said it was too much, too fast. But I wanted to give her the happily ever after part, and didn’t that always come with a wedding?
“Forever?” She laughed, bitter, and when the tear rolled down her cheek, she swiped it away like she was angry at it, too. “We both know I was only one of your flings. You were in it for the chase, nothing more. Well, you caught me. And, like a fool, I fell for it. I fell for you. I thought I was in love. But now I know better. And I won’t make that mistake again.” She took a step toward the door.
My heart pounded. She loved me. Or she had, once. I touched her arm. “Alicia, I love you, too. Give me another chance. I’ll prove I’ve changed.”
She looked at me then, her blue eyes glistening. “I can’t. You’d better do what you do best and leave.” Then she yanked open the screen door, pushed through the purple door, and was gone.
The rain roared like the static in my brain.
She’d said no.
Actually…I replayed her words to me. She said she couldn’t. Similar, but not exactly the same. She’d told me she loved me. Past tense. And then she’d told me to leave.
Oh. I sank down again on the top step where the downpour soaked my knees and the toes of my boots.
She didn’t trust me not to leave again. Like her father. Like Noah’s dad. I’d made three of a kind with those dickwads.
The foundation didn’t mean anything to her. Neither did my coming to see her. The only thing that’d prove I was different was to stay.
So I’d fucking stay.