Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)(9)

“You weren’t too hung up on that detail earlier.”

He shrugged. “Just figured I’d ask Matt.” He would have eventually remembered he needed that information.

“Ask me what?” The man in question popped back in carrying a tray of dirty glasses.

“Directions to Hayley’s place.”

“Why would you need those?” When neither of them rushed to answer, Matt frowned. “What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” Hayley clarified. “Jackson and I are just doing each other a favor.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed and he tossed aside the towel draped over his shoulder. “We’re not talking sexual favors, right?” The accusation cut sharper than the knife used to slice drink garnishes that rested just inches from Matt’s hand.

“No,” they managed to answer in unison.

“Nothing like that,” Jackson felt compelled to add when his friend still hadn’t relaxed.

Hayley shoved the tools on the shelf. “Eric is back in town. Jackson offered to be my date so Eric won’t have any reason to bother me.”

Jackson wasn’t sure, but he would have sworn Matt’s fingers inched a little closer to the blade.

“Eric’s a dickhead. And what are you getting out of this arrangement?”

Somewhat reassured that his friend was more annoyed about the ex, Jackson answered honestly. “Keeps women from thinking I’m available.”

Barely appeased, Matt loaded the dirty glasses in the dishwasher. “You two could have asked me for help.”

Hayley closed the dishwasher for him. “You can’t flirt with women and keep them away from Jackson at the same time.”

“Jackson’s never had any problem handling himself with women.”

He cringed. Did Matt have to make it sound like he was a complete man-whore? Maybe he hadn’t been a saint when it came to dating women, but he hadn’t been out to score with every single woman he met either.

“You’ve got customers at the bar.” Hayley waved at the window in the door. “I’ll see you at the wedding, Matt.” She shoved her brother ahead of her, then said over her shoulder, “It’s 212 Ridley Road.”

Despite his earlier tone, Matt nodded on Jackson’s way out. By the time he reached his Challenger, he saw Hayley pull out of the parking lot. He dug out his cell phone as he slid behind the wheel and punched in Josh’s number. When his friend didn’t answer, he left a message to see if Josh needed anything, then hung up and headed for his parents’ place.

Buying them an RV had turned out to be one of the best gifts he’d ever given them. Retirement gave his dad the freedom to travel the way his mom had been looking forward to for years. They probably would have set their sights on returning to the harbor if they hadn’t seen him just a few weeks ago. Last he spoke with them, they were exploring eastern Canada.

On the way home, Jackson found himself slowing down as he passed the county hospital, but couldn’t bring himself to pull in to the lot.

Mitch Stone had cancer. Son of a bitch.

Why hadn’t he called Matt back all those times? He’d sort of assumed they’d catch up when he came home for the wedding. Just one more reason he’d been a complete ass. He probably deserved more of Matt’s attitude, but f*ck if his life wasn’t already in the shitter to begin with.

Seventeen months since his career-ending car accident and he still didn’t know what the hell to do with himself. Coaching was a viable option, but it wasn’t playing the game he loved.

Shoving that thought squarely out of his head, he pulled into his parents’ driveway.

He lounged around watching a movie for a while, then thought about checking his email and catching the latest headlines on ESPN before getting ready. He quickly nixed both ideas when he found over a hundred messages in his inbox. Some were from friends, but most were just people digging for information surrounding his arrest last night.

He could have walked away. Probably should have. He’d known where it was all headed the second the guy walked over and started running his mouth about what an * Jackson was. “Can’t-shoot-for-shit dickhead” had been his personal favorite, though he’d heard far more original crap than that. His giant-sized pal hadn’t appreciated Jackson pointing that out.

Walking away after that first punch was easier said than done, and then Hayley ended up between them. How she’d moved that fast still made his head spin. What made his head spin even faster, though, was thinking she looked pretty as hell the whole time she was taking him into custody.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jackson decided to get his shower and shaving over with. And maybe more ice on his face. The swelling had gone down, but Allie wasn’t going to be excited about his appearance in the wedding pictures.

Maybe if he’d put himself right to bed last night after taking Josh home, he wouldn’t have ended up back at Stone’s. Instead he could have been at Josh’s in time to catch him and talk about the cold feet his friend had confessed to.

Hell, maybe it was better if they didn’t talk about whether or not Josh’s cold feet were anything to worry about. Or the way he’d gotten that weird look on his face the second he’d laid eyes on Devon.

Remembering how the two of them looked at each other in general was probably the one reason he should have talked to Josh. But what did he know about getting married and the whole cold feet thing? He’d barely been “engaged” before it had ended almost as fast as his days of playing professional hockey.

Suddenly annoyed with himself for revisiting shit best left in the past, he got himself cleaned up and dressed. With one final adjustment of his persistently crooked tie, he grabbed his wallet and keys and left for Hayley’s.

According to the dashboard clock he was almost half an hour early by the time he pulled up in front of her apartment building. She was probably still getting ready. Might even give him that cute annoyed look when she found him on her doorstep so soon.

Smiling at the thought of getting under her skin, he climbed out of his car. Bright, hot sunshine beamed down on him, sinking straight through the jacket to warm his skin. Stripping the jacket off, he left it in the car and shut the door.

He was halfway up the sidewalk when a red and yellow ball dropped in front of him. He stared at the toy, then tipped his head back and almost fell over laughing.

“Please make my day and tell me you’re not wearing any underwear.”

Crouched on a gnarled branch about four feet above him, Hayley tugged impatiently at a ridiculously short scrap of material stretched across her thighs and barely covering her behind.

“Well, had I known that going commando would excite you so much, I would have taken my panties off before scaling the tree.” Her sarcasm was thick enough to skate on.

“Is this how you usually avoid your dates?”

“You’re not a real date.” She searched the foliage overheard for something Jackson couldn’t see. “Shake that ball, would you? Before the wedding would be preferable,” she tacked on when he picked up the ball for closer inspection.

With a flick of his wrist a bell chimed inside the red and yellow shell. From above came an answering meow.

“You’re up there looking for a cat?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question—either that or they smashed you into the boards one too many times.” Hayley maneuvered around the trunk, her bare feet moving up another branch. “Shit.”

He circled the tree, trying to keep her in view. “Is there someone I should call? Animal rescue maybe?”

“They’ll just make Copernicus even more stressed out. They already don’t like him after all the stitches—”

A branch snapped and Hayley yelped.

“Are you okay?” Leaves and twigs fluttered to the ground, and he squinted to see more than a flash of her bare calves and the navy fabric of her dress. “Hayley?”

Another pitiful meow came from just outside Jackson’s line of sight.

“How good are you at climbing trees?”

Jackson cringed. “Horrible. Broke my arm after I fell out of one when I was twelve.”

“Never mind. I think…I’ve almost got it…” Another frustrated curse was followed by, “Either embrace your inner twelve-year-old or you’ll have to head to the wedding without me.”

Damn, she was serious.

Jackson looked up and down the street, searching for another option—any other option—and not finding anything.

Okay then.

He toed off his shoes, then after another hard look at the tree, stripped off his socks too. At least he’d left his jacket in the car. Loosening his tie, he slipped it over his head and set it on the pile with the rest of his stuff. Once his top buttons were undone, he eyed the tree skeptically.

Must be out of his mind. Hayley clearly was for climbing the tree for a cat to begin with, never mind that she couldn’t be any less dressed for the occasion.