Beloved

Chapter Fifteen

There’s an open seat at the end of the bar. I sit down, ordering my signature drink—lemon drop martini. As I place a ten-dollar bill on the bar, a hand presses over mine. I look up to a pair of deep brown eyes and a shy smile.

“Hi. Can I help you?” I ask timidly.

“Sorry, but a beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t have to pay for a drink. Ever.” His smile widens and he extends his hand. “I’m Pat. Nice to meet you.”

Not wanting to be impolite, I return the handshake. “Hi, I’m Catherine. Thanks for the drink.”

“So, are you from Virginia Beach?” He asks and takes a sip of his beer. Really? How original.

“No.” I give a short laugh. “I hate to be rude, Pat, but I’m meeting someone.”

“He isn’t here though, is he?” Pat asks.

Before I have a chance to reply, a deep, sexy voice rasps, “Yes, he is,” from behind me.

Chills run down my spine. My body tightens as my breath hitches. A warm hand slowly travels up my back and rests on my bare shoulder. Jackson’s presence is so distinct. I know it’s him even without turning around. His thumb rests on the back of my neck, rubbing up and down. The entire lower part of my body is warm and tingling from his possessive touch.

Jackson’s voice is low and warning, and I can only imagine the look he’s giving Pat right now. “Catherine,”—he leans close and presses his lips to my temple—“sorry to keep you waiting. Our table is ready.”

Pat’s face is stoic as he returns to his beer. I smile at him and place the ten-dollar bill back on the counter. Poor guy. He didn’t stand a chance.

I gather my things and hear Jackson inhale loudly as I stand. When I turn to him he’s standing there with his jaw slack. I look around to see what has his attention, but he’s staring at me.

I try to break his trance. “Jackson?”

“You look breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off you.” He looks me up and down, stopping leisurely at my neckline before his eyes make their way back up to my face.

“Ummm, thanks.” I don’t know how to take his compliment, the way he said it, or the way he seems to be undressing me with his eyes. I’m suddenly very hot—and bothered.

“You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” I ask.

“Every man in this bar wants you right now.” He takes a step forward, never breaking eye contact. “Every man wants to be me right now.” Another step. “And none of them see what I see.” One more step. We’re now toe-to-toe as I lift my head to stare into his eyes. My heart beats so loud in my ears I have to strain to hear his words. He places his hand on my hip, pulling me against him. “I’m going to kiss you now, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

He lowers his head and hooks his other hand around my back, slowly sliding it up as the gap between us closes. His full lips are only a breath away when my lids flutter and shut. Then I feel his lips, soft and warm, pressing against mine. He pulls me even closer, tightening his grip and intensifying the kiss. I thread my fingers into his hair as his tongue sweeps across my lips, seeking entrance. I’ve died and gone to heaven. This is one of those moments I’ll remember forever. Every girl dreams about a kiss like this. I sigh and give him access as our tongues brush against each other. All too soon Jackson loosens his hold and ends the kiss. He lets out a soft breath and then presses a brief kiss to my lips once more. His voice is raspy against my ear. “That should’ve been our first kiss.”

I’m afraid to open my eyes and face a repeat rejection like last time. I lower my arms, still holding on to his shoulders, and take a deep breath. Hesitantly, I open my eyes and look up. Intensity like I’ve never seen dominates his stare, and my doubts about him wanting me, about this crazy attraction between us, disappear. With that one look he’s torn down every wall around my heart. All my futile reasons to stay away from him are gone, replaced by this undeniable pull toward Jackson Cole. They simply don’t exist anymore, and I realize I never had a chance against him. I open my mouth to speak but can’t find my voice. I’ve never known this kind of feeling. It’s heady and intoxicating, filling me with fear and excitement. He gently places his finger under my chin, pushing my jaw shut, and the dimple I love so much reappears with his warm smile.

My smile is shy when I finally speak. “So … dinner?” Dinner? That’s my fabulous response? My cheeks flare red—I’m so embarrassed. He makes me so self-conscious. The confidence he exudes is hard to keep up with.

Thankfully, he smiles and nods. “Yes, let’s eat and talk.”

Jackson places his hand on the small of my back and I grab my drink before making our way over to the hostess. Once we’re seated, I basically down my martini and order another one. My palms are sweating and I can’t stop fidgeting.

The restaurant is beautiful. It’s done in rich blues and greens, which reminds me of Jackson’s eyes. There’s a large oyster bar on the right wall and the entire back wall is windows overlooking the ocean. Our table is situated with a perfect view of the water. I look around, smiling at the opulence of the scenery and clientele.

Jackson clears his throat as a handsome man walks toward us with a smile on his face. “Carter!” He stands. “How are you? It’s been a long time,” he says as they hug and clap each other on the back.

Carter glances down at me and back over at Jackson. “Yes, brother, it has been. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Jackson smiles and shifts his weight. “No problem. This is Catherine. She’s the new publicist working with me on the cosmetics company.”

“Oh, well, I thought maybe you were finally getting back out there.” Carter places his hand on his shoulder and Jackson’s eyes narrow as he subtly shakes his head.

Hmmm … that’s weird. Back out there? And what’s with the head shake? My stomach plummets as fear grips my heart. A hundred scenarios race through my mind.

“I should get back to my dinner.” Jackson’s tone is flat, lacking the buoyancy it held moments before. “It was good seeing you. I’ll call next time I’m in town.”

“You know Mad—”

“See you, Carter,” Jackson cuts in.

“Right. See you, brother. Don’t be a stranger.” He pats his back and Jackson returns to his seat.

He won’t look my way. Gone is the warm and sensual man from a few minutes ago. I can feel the tension coming off him in waves. I want to say something but—well, I don’t really know what the hell any of this is. I’m not his girlfriend or even his friend, really. I’m his publicist. He made that crystal clear. I’m such a fool. I knew it was a mistake to get all dressed up and think there could be anything more to this. Taking his cue, I straighten my back and decide to rebuild my wall.

The waitress comes over and takes our orders, and Jackson starts talking about the business. An hour and three martinis later, dinner is done. I want to go to bed. I’m upset and exhausted. I kept myself in check. I didn’t get all gooey—I did good. It’s not as if he was being charming anyway. We created a plan on where he wants to see things go. He asked a lot of questions regarding the market and buying behaviors, but we steered clear of anything other than the end goal and how he wants to handle the launch. I gave him my best suggestions on how we get there, but the entire dinner Jackson barely spoke other than to ask pointed business questions.

Resting my hand on the table and fiddling with the martini glass, I’m lost in my disappointment. Jackson blows out a deep breath and leans forward then back again. Looking into his eyes, I can see the turmoil churning. After a few seconds, he leans forward again and places his hand over mine.

Glancing at our joined hands, I pull mine out of his grasp and place it on my lap, refusing to look at him. I’m hurt and angry. Two times he’s kissed me and two times he’s rejected me. The last time was different but the pain is the same.

His deep voice breaks through my ruminating. “Catherine, don’t pull away.”

“I’m not.” I say sharply. I didn’t pull away—he did. And so what if I did? He’s not anything more than a client and I don’t have to get personal with him.

He narrows his eyes and places his hand on the table palm up. “Yes. You are. We need to talk about this. Please give me your hand.”

I look down at his hand, open and waiting for me. All I want to do is place my hand in his, to feel his skin against mine. Yet I don’t want to. I close my eyes and shake my head.

“Please. I want to explain.”

I lift my eyes and see nothing but sincerity. His hand is just lying on the table, waiting, and I’m paralyzed. I remember my rule and promise—I won’t allow any man to hurt me again, not that I can prevent it entirely. I place my hand on the table next to his, sending my own message. “Explain, then.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see Carter. He was like a brother to me. There’s a lot of history and bad blood between us, to say the least.” He inches his hand closer to mine. “I wasn’t sure what to say and didn’t want you to be in the middle of it.” I’m torn. I understand being surprised, but why wait until now to say anything? He places his hand on top of mine and his voice is apologetic. “I want us to figure out whatever this is between us. Can you forgive me for being an asshole?”

In all the years I was with Neil, I don’t think he ever apologized. I’ve been around Jackson for two days and he’s not hesitated once. There’s something now, though, about how cold he grew that has me on edge. His hand glides up and down the back of mine, but it’s his eyes that break through my trepidation. “I forgive you for being an ass. So let’s talk.” I sigh and he grips my hand.

“I can’t and I won’t lie to you. I feel something for you. I have since the first day we met.” His eyes blaze as he gazes at me. “I think about you all the time. I want to kiss you every time I look at you. Every time I try to focus at work, somehow I’m distracted thinking of you. I can’t explain it but I think you feel it too.”

I look away, trying to gather my thoughts and express them in a way that doesn’t make me feel stupid. How can I explain it to him when I can barely describe it myself? “I don’t know how to fully put it into words.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve been hurt. When we met, obviously, I was wearing a ring.” His finger rubs across my naked ring finger. I look up and he has a small smile, but his eyes are urging me to keep going. “Anyway, he … well, he wrecked me. To say things ended badly would be putting it mildly. But honestly, you’re my client, Jackson. You could ruin everything I’ve worked for. I’m not willing to throw my career away.” I hesitate before saying more. There’s no way I’m ready to tell him what’s in my heart. I already know where this is going. I’m on a one-way trip to more heartache. Every single man in my life has chosen someone or something else over me. Jackson will be no different.

“I wouldn’t ruin anything for you. I’m saying there’s something between us. Can you honestly tell me you feel nothing?”

Nothing? No, I definitely can’t say that. His blue-green eyes pierce through me. I’m searching, trying to read any emotion telling me I should turn him away. He smiles expectantly and I sigh. “No. But I don’t trust myself with you. It’s so intense sometimes and if I get caught up … ” I trail off, afraid to finish my sentence.

He flips my palm over and traces the inside of my hand, sending tingles through my body. “Look, I’m saying let’s take it slow. Have some fun. No matter what, I wouldn’t jeopardize your career.”

“So, what? We date? I don’t know what you’re looking for. I don’t want another serious relationship right now. I can’t …” Emotion chokes me. I’m not sure why all of a sudden I’m struggling. I guess I just don’t want another Neil. I’m not strong enough to deal with it.

“Yes, we date. We’ll be spending a lot of time together anyway. So either we keep fighting this … pull or whatever this is …” he trails off and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. Being around you, seeing you, listening to you laugh, just makes me want you that much more.”

I want what he’s offering so much, but the other part of me is fighting it. “And what if this ends badly? How do we work together day in and day out?” It’s a valid question, and it’s really the last flimsy excuse I can voice to him.

He places his palm flat against mine and smiles tentatively. “We’re both professionals. I already told you I wouldn’t hurt your career.” He chuckles.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’ve never had to work so hard to get a woman to date me. I always thought I was a pretty good catch.” He lets out a short laugh again.

“I guess it further proves I don’t find you charming or endearing.” I smile at my line of bullshit. He’s absolutely charming, so much so that I’m fighting the urge to crawl across the table and into his lap.

Jackson stands and strides to my side of the table with his hand extended. “Dance with me.”

His strong hand engulfs my tiny one as he helps me stand. It’s symbolic of how I feel when I’m around him—consumed. We walk to the middle of the small dance floor. Jackson places his hand on my hip and his warmth penetrates my dress. Slowly he lifts my palm and places it on his chest, right over his heart. I can feel its steady beating, the constant thrum as it calms my own. I close my eyes and sink into him as I listen to the singer croon about coming away with her for a while. If only I could get away for a while, ignore all the painful turns my life has taken. He leads us through the song as I replay the last few weeks. Somehow, Jackson has taken my life by storm. He’s found a way to make me feel alive, as if a light switch has been turned on, illuminating all my dark corners. He sharpens my senses and fills me with so many different things—excitement, fear, humor, anger. It terrifies me.

The song ends and I look into his kind, warm eyes. He leans in purposefully and gives me a tender kiss.

I smile and a soft giggle comes out.

“What?” Jackson asks.

“Oh, nothing.” I shrug. “Just rethinking—maybe you are charming.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

I bet I haven’t.