River pushed the napkin into the waistband of her skirt, her gaze never leaving Jackson’s.
Sixteen years had passed, and somehow the man looked exactly the same, while also completely different. Was that possible? His brown eyes still had flecks of honey, his hair still the shade of pine wood. And he was still tall. So unbelievably tall.
But he was bigger. And there was something harder about him. Something more intense.
She swallowed, suddenly feeling an odd mix of desire and nervous tension bubble to the surface.
He commanded all her attention. Every little scrap of it. Which was exactly why she’d avoided eye contact with him all day. Because she’d known what would happen if she looked. She’d lose herself. Like she’d lost herself all those years ago.
“Hi, River.”
His deep, silky voice slid over her skin, causing the tiny hairs on her arms to stand on end. She remembered that voice well. Too well.
“Hi, Jackson. It’s nice of you to finally return to Lindeman.” There was a thread of resentment in her voice. A resentment she couldn’t have hidden if she tried.
One of Jackson’s brows quirked, questioning. He stepped farther into the room.
God, how was he so big? He’d always been tall. What was he? Six four? Six five? But now, he’d filled out across the shoulders and chest. And his arms…even through his white dress shirt, she could see the outline of his thick muscles. He took up all the space.
His head tilted to the side, those brown eyes watching her closely. “Should I have gotten here sooner?”
Yes. The voice was a shout in her head. A shout that would never reach the air.
How was that even a question? He damn well should have gotten here sooner, and he knew it. Not just to visit her or her parents. Parents who had taken him in, fed him, and given him a safe place to stay on more occasions than she could count. But because for the last year, Ryker had been here, and the man had needed his best friend.
Jackson hadn’t been the same since returning to Lindeman. He’d been angry and closed-off. A shadow of the brother she used to know.
She remembered the night when she’d finally sucked up her pride and called Jackson. The man hadn’t answered, and he certainly hadn’t called her back. That was a month ago.
She swallowed, not able to think about that right now.
“You’re an adult. It’s not my place to tell you what you should be doing.”
This time his eyes pinched like he was confused. He took another step forward, almost as if he was stalking her. Like he thought if he moved too quickly, he’d scare her off.
He wouldn’t. She didn’t scare so easily anymore.
The closer he drew, the more his musky scent permeated the space. How was it possible, after so many years, that he still smelled exactly the same? Like forest and sandalwood mixed together, creating the most intoxicating scent.
No. It was some trick of the mind. It had to be.
His voice gentled, intense eyes darting between hers. “Are you okay?”
No. She wasn’t okay. She’d stopped being okay the second her father had called, telling her in that gut-wrenchingly broken voice that her brother had driven his car off a bridge and died.
“Yes.” One word. One lie. That was all he was getting from her.
Ryker looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. It was the same way everyone had been looking at her throughout the last week. Wondering why she wasn’t crying. Why her face wasn’t red and blotchy, her limbs weren’t trembling.
“It’s okay to not be okay,” he said quietly.
She almost scoffed. Or maybe she actually did scoff, because his brows twitched.
“Thank you, Jackson, but I don’t need you to tell me it’s okay for me to be anything.”
She was being a bitch, but she couldn’t help it. Where had he been while his best friend was hurting? River may not have known why he was hurting, but she was almost certain Jackson did. And she was so damn angry at him for that.
He took another step forward. “What do you need, then?”
The question had her pausing. Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “I need…” Answers? “Space. From the sympathetic looks and the apologies and the tears.” It was too much. All of it. Especially when they were wasted emotions.
“People just care.”
Yeah, she knew that. Hell, even people who barely knew her or her brother seemed to cry like they’d lost an old friend. That probably shouldn’t make her as angry as it did.
“I know.” She shot a quick look to the door. “I should get back.”
She tried to move around him, but before she could pass, Jackson was there, blocking her way.
This time when he spoke, there was no gentleness or softness. Anger laced his words. “What the hell is that?”
She looked up, almost groaning out loud when she saw what he was staring at. The black eye she’d covered with about a pound of makeup. “What?”
His jaw visibly ticked. “Did someone fucking hit you?”
Ah, there you are, Jackson. The man she remembered. The man with a temper who could spit fire with his eyes.
“It’s nothing. I just got caught up in someone else’s fight.”
Yeah, by putting her face right next to a swinging elbow. Smart, River, real smart.
She attempted to step to the side, but this time his fingers curled around her upper arm. And even though his hold was firm, restraining, her chest wanted to hum at the contact. Her heart sped up and her skin tingled.
With sheer force, she shut it down. All of it. She wasn’t a pathetic seventeen-year-old in love with her brother’s best friend anymore. She was a thirty-three-year-old woman, and she had control of her emotions, dammit.
“Who’s fight? What the hell is going on?”
“Let go of me, Jackson.”
“River—”
“No. Don’t you dare do that.” She wrenched her arm free, knowing full well she only got out of his hold because he let her. “You haven’t been here. You don’t get to step back into this town, into my life, after sixteen years away and expect answers to your questions. I’m not your concern. For all you know, I’ve had weekly black eyes since you left.”
His fists clenched at his sides, and the cords in his neck bulged. But clearly, he knew her words were true. If he wanted to know what was going on, then he should have damn well been here.
The anger narrowing his eyes deepened, but when he spoke, his voice was quieter. It reminded her of the calm before a storm. “You are my concern. Now tell me who the hell hit you before—”
“What? Before you go find the guy and just start swinging? Or before you up and disappear for another sixteen years, only reappearing when another member of my family is declared dead?”
It was a low blow. And by Jackson’s flinch, he felt it.
She almost took her words back. She almost apologized. But then memories of their last night together came back to her. Of that kiss. Telling him she loved him. And Jackson walking away. Not returning a single call of hers over those first few years. Acting like she didn’t exist for over one and a half decades when, just before that, barely a day had passed when they hadn’t been in each other’s lives.
Suddenly, she couldn’t stand to be in this room anymore. Not with him. Because even though she told herself she was stronger, even though she’d grown so much over the years, he still owned a part of her heart that no other person had ever touched.
Gritting her teeth, she walked around him, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed when he didn’t grab her again.
She’d almost reached the door when he spoke.
“This isn’t over, River. Ryker isn’t here to look after you, so I will make sure you’re safe.”
She turned her head. “That almost sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise.”
