Read Online Forgiving Jackson by Alicia Hunter Pace - Free Book Online

talking about.”
    Ha. He really didn’t! He had no idea that he was terrified of hurting people, had no idea he even had a chink in his armor.
    She shook her head and took a deep breath.
    • • •
    Jackson braced himself for the next pack of lies that were undoubtedly about to flow from Emory’s lush little mouth. He couldn’t wait to hear this. “What am I supposed to do about Christian? And the others?”
    “Let me ask you something.” Emory got up and poured them more coffee. She took her good, sweet time going to the refrigerator, fetching her sissy creamer, pouring said creamer, tasting, mixing, and adding more sugar. You’d think she was mixing an antidote for king cobra venom. Of course, by now the poor snake-bitten fool would be dead. Now she was going back to the refrigerator—which was very neat, he noted—to replace the creamer. Everything had a place. The creamer apparently belonged on the bottom shelf because she had to bend over to put it there, which resulted in a good view of her khaki-shorts-clad bottom. Though calling them shorts might be pushing it. They came to her knee and were at least one size larger than they needed to be, as was her pink polo shirt. She sat back down, crossed her legs, took a sip of her coffee masterpiece, and ran her tongue over her bottom lip to capture a little drip of coffee. The gesture wasn’t meant to be provocative; she wasn’t the type. She also wasn’t
his
type. He needed to remember that. Plus, he was firing her.
    She looked at him like she knew all the answers to the midterm. Poor thing. She didn’t stand a chance.
    “Do you care about Christian?” she asked.
    What kind of question was that? “Christian Hambrick? From Firefly Hall? Sure. I care about her. Not in a romantic way. She’s Beau’s age and four years is a lot when you’re kids. But our parents were friends and I’ve known her all her life.”
    Emory wound one of her curls around her finger and pushed it behind her ear. “So you never took Christian to the rose arbor?” She was laughing at him—not overtly, but he knew when he was being laughed at. He didn’t like it worth a damn.
    “No! Of course not.”
    “Do you want a scone? Gwen made them so they’re really good.” And when she got up and breezed by him he caught her scent. Oranges. Mint. Vanilla. His stomach turned over. He’d read that a smell could bring back a memory faster than anything else. Was it possible she’d used the same soap, sparkle lotion, and stuff all these years? Probably not. But he took another whiff and the picture came together—the white baby curls, a little longer back then, the sweet mouth that he had decided he wanted a taste of. Hell’s bells and damnation. He even remembered her dress—well, the color, anyway. Blue, like those big round eyes. So, yeah. She had been one of his rose arbor girls—but not one of his
let me show you my room
girls. She’d been way too sweet and innocent for that. He didn’t seduce. He let himself
be
seduced. That hadn’t changed.
    She held a plate of scones before him and looked at him with a question in her eyes. She shook the plate a little. “They’re blueberry.” Blueberries, blue eyes, blue dresses, blue days.
    “Sure.” He was pretty sure his voice came out normal. He took a scone and took a bite. “I did not take Christian to the rose arbor and I didn’t take you.” He didn’t even feel guilty for saying it. She had a lie coming.
    “So you say.” She handed him a little linen napkin and bit into her scone before sitting down. “But you
do
care for Christian and what happens to Firefly Hall?”
    “Sure. I want her to do well. Is something wrong with Christian?”
    “No, but there will be if you close down Around the Bend.”
    What the hell? “What? Are you blackmailing me? If I close down Around the Bend, are you threatening to put out the word that Christian uses rat meat in her breakfast casserole? Or maybe you’re just going to go ahead