Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(12)

She set the cake aside and held his hand. Her eyes filled with tears as she touched her forehead to his, remembering his father, Bill Wild, and the way he used to call her darlin’ and treat her like a daughter. He’d been a big man with a generous and loving heart, like each of his four sons.

“I miss him.”

Jackson lifted his eyes to hers and nodded. “Me too.”

He flipped open the book, and she knew he didn’t want to relive that time of their lives. He and his brothers had each handled their parents’ attack differently. While Jackson internalized most of his anger, his older brother Logan, who had been out on a mission with the Navy SEALS when his parents were attacked, had gone on his own private mission when the police had stopped searching for their father’s killer and had hunted down the attacker—killing him as he tried to attack another woman. Heath, Jackson’s other older brother, worked through those agonizing weeks talking through his feelings, and Cooper, the youngest, had gone on a full-out rampage. He’d been a fury of rage, angry at everyone and everything, yelling, punching holes in walls, and ornery as hell, and then he seemed to accept their loss and move on just as quickly as he’d fallen apart, albeit a changed man, for sure. Cooper used to be the warm one, easy to get close to, but after his rage, he seemed to have gone numb. But the four brothers had banded together in the aftermath, joining forces in caring for Mary Lou, their mother. They shared in her caretaking, making sure that at least one of them stopped by on a daily basis, ran errands with her, and took her out, to ensure that her life remained full and surrounded by love. Every Sunday all of the boys gathered at her house for dinner, and Laney had joined them on many occasions.

She pushed away the sad memories and turned her attention to the pictures of their past, decoratively displayed by Jackson’s thoughtful and creative eye. She smiled at the images of her as a teenager, laughing with her head tilted back, her eyes closed with the force of her delight, another with her hand on her hip, scowling as Jackson took the picture. And a third, enlarged to take up the entire page, of Laney gazing out his bedroom window with a worried look on her face.

As she flipped through the pages, she found many pictures she didn’t remember him taking—even though it seemed that even as a teen Jackson was always taking pictures of her, or holding the camera at arm’s length to get a shot of both of them with their faces pressed together.

“That’s my favorite,” Jackson said when she turned the page to a picture of Laney lying on her back on the grass at night, moonlight streaming across her mouth and neck, her eyes closed. The edges of the picture were purposely blurred, making her body the full focus.

“Is this…?”

He smiled and nodded. “The first time we ever…”

He held her gaze as memories sailed through her mind with the impact of a gale-force wind. Her body remembered the weight of Jackson perched above her, his strong teenage body lean and tanned, and his eyes—his expressive, loving eyes, even then—gazing down at her protectively. You’re sure, Laney? I don’t want to hurt you. He’d been her first, but she hadn’t been his. He’d never said anything, but he was so confident, so virile and in control, that she knew he had to be far more experienced than she was. He’d wrapped his sinewy arms around her and held her until she’d stopped trembling before they went any further. He’d assured her that they didn’t need to do anything, that he’d always be there for her no matter what, and that she was special, then listed the ways. You’re brilliant and creative. You’re stubborn and sweet and make me crazy. You’re the only person I really truly trust outside of my family.

Laney was lost in the past, and when Jackson touched her cheek, it brought his face back into focus.

“Happy birthday, Laney.”

“You’ve never let me down.” The words came without thought.

He smiled. “Sure I have. Remember how mad you were when I beat up your prom date?” He flipped through the pages and pointed to a picture of Jackson with a bloody lip, his dress shirt torn at the shoulder and a cocky grin on his full lips. “Coop took it, remember? With his phone. That’s why it’s not great quality.”

She clutched the leather book to her chest. “You didn’t let me down, Jackson. He deserved it after the things he said to that poor girl with the ugly dress. It wasn’t her fault her family didn’t have any money.”

He nodded. “Yeah, but you were pissed at me.”

“For a few minutes. I was mortified. I felt bad for the girl and embarrassed that I was with him, and then the fight…You beat the hell out of him, and then you took the girl under your arm and you were her date for the rest of the night. I just wanted to apologize to the girl and have it all go away.” She reached for his hand. “And I was jealous. I wanted to be her.”

“But, Laney, you’ve always been more to me than some random girl could ever be.”

***

FUCK. WHAT AM I doing? I’ve got to stop this sappy shit and get my head on straight. Laney doesn’t need me pounding into her head how much she means to me. She needs me to let her go.

Jackson pushed to his feet and paced, trying to ignore the battle raging within him. “Are you going to eat your cake, or what?” He heard the gruffness in his tone and felt the tightening in his chest, knowing he’d better gain control of his emotions fast or he was going to lose it.