Chapter Four

Jackson had just been preparing to sit down and go over the geologist’s report on Cottonmouth’s oil prospects when the doorbell rang.

Making his way towards the front door, he glanced at his watch. It was almost six o’clock in the evening. Who could have business at this time of night?

He opened the door and was momentarily taken aback. A statuesque redhead with curves for days and attitude to match stood on the doorstep with one hand planted on her rounded hips, and some sort of dress bag in the other.

“Hey handsome. Is BJ around?” She drawled out in a soft Southern accent, her eyes taking a leisurely trip along his frame. Any other day and any other time, he would have taken this woman’s interest and ran with it, but that was before he’d met a golden-eyed spitfire who haunted his nightly dreams and claimed his waking thoughts.

“Last time I checked she was still out—” He turned towards the kitchen at the sound of a door slamming shut. “She’s home,” he finished with a small grin, just as BJ entered the living room.

The stacked redhead pushed past him. “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

BJ frowned at the dress bag in the redhead’s hand. “Apparently for good reason. I told you I wasn’t going.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. Going? Going where? He closed the front door, but instead of heading back to the den he stood off to the side.

“You’re going, BJ. You promised me—”

“I don’t have a date or a dress.”

“Dress taken care of,” the woman said, holding up the bag. She glanced over her shoulder at Jackson. “And what about him? He could be your date.”

Jackson looked at BJ. “Date for what?”

“Nothing.”

The woman with the dress bag glared at BJ, before turning to him to extend her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Teresa Mae West, BJ’s oldest and dearest friend—” She rolled her eyes when BJ snorted. “Twice a year I host a charity fundraiser, which BJ always donates to, but never attends.”

Jackson shook her hand. “Jackson Downing. Nice to meet you, Teresa Mae West. Interesting name.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Parents thought it was funny.”

Funny. No doubt. But from what he could tell, it definitely suited her.

“So, this fundraiser—I’m guessing it’s black tie and you want me to take Bria.”

Teresa raised her eyebrows, shooting BJ a quizzical look from over his shoulder.

“That’s what he calls me and just so you know, no matter what he says, I’m still not going.”

Jackson turned to BJ. “At least try on the dresses. She did come all this way to bring them to you.”

“She only lives two miles away.” BJ narrowed her eyes. “And why waste everyone’s time and try on dresses I’m not going to wear?”

“You promised me you would go this time. And you never break a promise,” Teresa said.

BJ was trapped and she knew it. And in that moment, she wanted to be anywhere else but there. Seconds ticked by while BJ and Teresa stared each other down. Finally, BJ relented with a long suffering sigh. “Fine.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll go, but after this—I swear I’m severing our friendship.”

“You say that at least five times a year.” Teresa shoved the dress bag at BJ and had Jackson not caught it, it would have landed on the floor. Jackson gave her a look to let her know he thought she was being childish. The one she shot back told him she wanted him to stay out of it. He grinned. Not a chance.

“So am I invited too?” He asked Teresa.

“No.”

“Of course, BJ needs a date,” Teresa said, pointedly ignoring BJ’s outburst.

She twisted on her heels then, and walked towards the door. “I need to head home now. Nice meeting you, Jackson. Looking forward to seeing you both next Friday.”

BJ mumbled something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like you’re both going to hell for this, but Jackson couldn’t be sure.

When the door closed behind Teresa, he turned to BJ.

“She seems like a nice woman. You should feel good that you’re doing something for charity. I’m sure we’ll have fun.”

Her eyes darkened to whisky brown pools. “Nice? Teresa’s not nice. And let’s be honest, you don’t give a damn about that charity dinner or how much fun we could have. The only reason why you even agreed to go was because you think she’s hot.”

He lifted a brow. Teresa was hot, but she wasn’t the one he wanted to see in a dress on Friday night.

“Teresa’s hot? You know what, I really hadn’t noticed.”

She spun away from him and stomped towards the kitchen. “Liar.”

“It’ll be fun, and you know it,” he called after her, as she disappeared into the kitchen. He smiled when she didn’t respond. BJ always had a comeback, so the fact that she was speechless told him she was too mad to bother forming words.

Somewhere deep down, he felt just a bit sorry for her—but only a bit. He took the dress bag upstairs and laid it across her bed. He itched to peek inside, but he didn’t want to spoil it. He would wait until he saw her on Friday—it would be that much sweeter. BJ dressed up and on his arm—he couldn’t wait.

* * * *

BJ glanced at herself in the mirror, a frown on her face. She could not believe she’d actually been forced into doing something so heinous, so despicable, something that was completely beneath her. She could not believe she was wearing a dress. She never wore dresses. She absolutely hated them.

This was all Teresa’s fault, but she couldn’t forget Jackson’s role in this too. She would have probably been able to brush her friend off, yet again, had it not been for Jackson’s meddling.

“Damn it.” She sucked her finger where the zipper pinched her skin. Yet another reason why she hated dresses, skirts, gowns—anything of that ilk. They were right up there with high heels. BJ gave her feet—which at the moment were encased in four-inch bone hued sandals—a disparaging look. She’d be lucky if she made it out of the house without tripping and breaking her neck.

“Are you ready?” Jackson called out from the other side of the door.

She groaned. No.

She didn’t want to give Jackson the satisfaction of knowing she was so inept at this dress up thing, but there was no getting around it. She’d been trying for the last five minutes and it was clear that her zipper was stuck.

“I can’t get my zipper up.”

There was a pregnant pause on the other side, before Jackson said slowly, “Are you asking for help?”

She gritted her teeth. What did he think?

“Yes,” she bit out.

Not more than a second ticked by before the door swung open.

“You don’t have to look so smug about this,” she said at the smirk on Jackson’s face.

Smug? Not even close. It just happened to be the most benign expression he could seem to muster up the moment he got his first glimpse of her.

He let out a low whistle. There was no doubt BJ was a natural beauty. In faded shirts and jeans, she exuded a provocative sensuality that was impossible to ignore. But tonight, she was simply stunning.

Her hair framed her lovely face, the wiry curls straightened into a sleek style that fell to the middle of her back. The soft cream of the dress hugged her gentle curves, dipping just low enough to reveal the swells of her breasts, and falling at her knees, giving him a tantalising view of her smooth legs that seemed to go on for days.

“Wow. I’m almost speechless.”

“Almost speechless, but still not speechless.”

Her lovely topaz eyes flashed with fire, but hidden in their depths was a small ember of relief. She’d been afraid he wouldn’t like what he saw. He swept his gaze over the bronzed beauty. Not a chance.

“Turn around,” he said.

She gave him a puzzled look.

“You said you needed help with your zipper.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded and turned her back to him, treating him to the sight of the cutest most unexpected tattoo along the smooth skin of her back.

“An angel?” He said when he stood behind her.

“A wha—oh. My tattoo. I always forget about that.”

He stared at the image of a beautiful angel, with her black wings stretched out across BJ’s upper back.

“It’s lovely. When did you get it?”

She stiffened, and he wondered if she would answer him, when she said in a small voice. “I had it done on the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death. The face of the angel was drawn from an old photo of her.”

He glanced down again. He could see the resemblance now. “She was beautiful.”

He heard the smile in her voice. “She was.”

Jackson zipped her up, and when he was done he settled his hands against her shoulders—he couldn’t stand not touching her any longer.

“You look absolutely amazing tonight.” He spun her around. “But you’re beautiful in whatever you wear—jeans, a dress, a sack.” He smiled.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly. “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”

He frowned at her. “I wasn’t saying it to be nice. I said it because it’s the truth.” And it was. Dress or jeans, she was beautiful. Although, truth be told, her best look would be in nothing at all.

Despite what he said, he could still see the denial in her eyes, and when she opened her mouth to protest he let out a short sigh of frustration.

“Just say thank you, Bria. Acknowledge that I find you beautiful, and simply accept the compliment.”

Her eyes widened at the edge in his voice, but she nodded, her voice small as she said, “Thank you.”

He relaxed, pleased that for once she didn’t fight him. This time, however, he refused to let the issue drop. Ever since he’d discovered she had issues about her looks, he’d been waiting for a moment like this to broach the subject.

“Why is it so hard for you to accept that I think you’re beautiful?”

She stiffened, her eyes dipping to the floor, but he dragged her gaze back to him with a finger under her chin. “Talk to me Bria.”

She let out a jagged breath, and he wondered if she would refuse to answer him, when she finally said in a small voice, “It was never something that anyone said. I just saw how people, men especially, reacted to my mother and Natalie when they met them and then there was how they reacted to me.”

She shrugged, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “I just always felt like the ugly duckling around them, and I guess over time I came to believe I was just that—ugly and awkward.”

He cupped her cheek, finally understanding, and his heart ached for the beautiful young girl she’d once been whose only flaw was that she’d been different. “I know you will probably think this is corny, but there is no set standard when it comes to beauty. Believe me when I tell you that I think you’re beautiful inside and out.”

He pulled her closer, his gaze boring into her. He wanted her to see the truth in his eyes so there would never be any doubts in her mind. “I thought you were beautiful from the moment I met you. Now, believe me when I say you drove me crazy, but I loved how you stood up to me.” He touched her hair, “And I think it’s beautiful how your curls catch the sun in the morning.” He stroked her cheek. “And how your skin glows at dusk.” He stroked his fingers across her entire face. “I love that your eyes turn gold when you’re emotional, but most of all I love your sass and boldness, how you’re passionate about everyone and everything around you.”

His heart clenched at the awe in her eyes. She deserved a man who would love her, cherish her, make her feel secure when she doubted herself. He ignored the lump in his throat at the thought that he could be that man, that he wanted to be that man—if only his life weren’t so full of complications, weren’t haunted by ghosts from the past.

He leant down to kiss her full lips, plump and glossy from her lipstick. It was supposed to be a quick peck, but the instant their lips touched he went up in flames. Heat surged through his blood, his cock growing hard as a rock in seconds. His hands dipped to her ass, pulling her close as he claimed her with his mouth.

He had no idea how long they would have stood there locked in each other’s arms or how far their kiss would have gone, but when his watch beeped at the top of the hour it snapped them both back to the present.

“We better go,” he said, reluctantly easing himself out of her arms. “It’s already seven o’clock.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want to be late.” The false chirpiness of her voice made him smile.

“Well, just remember, you’re doing this for charity.” He grinned down at her, ushering her from the room with his hand against her back, pointedly ignoring the dark glower on her face.

“I’m not doing this for charity because I’ve already donated to Teresa’s cause. I’m doing this because you and my best friend conspired against me.”

“It’ll be fun tonight, trust me.”

The expression on her face told him she didn’t trust him on this at all, but she kept her thoughts to herself, as she followed him out the door.

* * * *

“So that hunk of a man managed to get you into a dress after all? I never would have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes.”

BJ glared at Teresa. “You two practically blackmailed me. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.”

“Oh, you had a choice.” Her green eyes twinkled. “So, are you just going to tell me what’s going on with you and Jackson Downing or am I gonna have to pry it out of you?”

BJ took a sip from the glass of wine in her hand, trying to delay the inevitable. “There’s really nothing going on.”

“Nothing?” She glanced between BJ and Jackson, who stood a few feet away chatting with other guests, although his gaze kept straying back to BJ every few seconds. “Doesn’t look like nothing. He can hardly keep his eyes off you.”

“That’s because for once I’m not covered in horse shit. He’s probably still in shock.”

“Probably. But I know there’s more to it than that.” Teresa pinned BJ with her green gaze, until BJ let out a long sigh and finally relented.

“You’re so nosy, you know that? We just kissed and fooled around a bit, but that’s it. That’s it,” she added at the speculative look on Teresa’s face.

“So are you two dating?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you like him.”

BJ cast a quick glance over at Jackson. She smiled. “I do.”

“Oh, we’re going to talk.” Teresa wagged her finger in BJ’s face. “I have to make my rounds, but you better believe we are going to talk about how you’ve been keeping secrets from your best friend—”

“I haven’t been keeping secrets, just been swamped with work.”

Teresa snorted. “I don’t believe you. But when we catch up, we will talk all about that, and the ridiculous look you have on your face.”

“What ridiculous look?”

Teresa’s eyes danced with mischief. “Oh, that goofy dreamy expression you get whenever you look at Jackson.”

She did not look goofy. Did she? She opened her mouth to argue but Teresa was already breezing away, floating off into the crowd where she would spend the rest of the evening mingling.

She did not look goofy or dreamy whenever she looked at Jackson. She took another sip of wine. That was just Teresa trying to goad her.

Jackson still stood off in the corner talking to a few people. As BJ made her way over to them, a hand grasped her arm and spun her around.

She paused for a beat until she recognised who it was. “Lou. Hi.”

“Hey, BJ.” His eyes roamed over her. “Wow, you look amazing.”

“Thanks.”

She was just about to tell him that most girls’ eyes didn’t fall at chest level, when his gaze finally snapped to her face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, since she now had his full attention.

He lifted his hand and that’s when she finally saw the tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Side job,” he said with a grin. “What about you? I never thought this would be your kind of scene.”

She wanted to say neither had she. “My best friend is the host. I was kind of coerced into coming.”

“Well, I’m glad you did come.” He leaned into her. “You really do look lovely. Maybe one day you’ll finally let me take you out to dinner—”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

Lou straightened to his full height. His expression was tight as he met Jackson’s stony gaze.

She placed her hand against Jackson’s chest, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead of moving backward, he actually inched closer to the young man. “It was nice seeing you again, Lou. Have a good night.”

She was relieved when Lou tipped his head in a nod and moved on, since it was apparent that Jackson had no intention of going anywhere.

She rounded on him. “I really wish you would lighten up with Lou. He’s—”

“Dance with me.” He didn’t wait for her response, and instead seized her arm and hauled her towards the dance floor. She glared at him when he pulled her into his arms, but didn’t resist, mostly because she didn’t want to make a scene.

“I want you to quit it with the warden act. Lou’s a good kid. He means no harm.”

Jackson leant back to peer down at her, and she noticed a small vein throbbed over one eyebrow. “He means no harm? Is that why I caught him with his eyes glued to your chest? Lou is not a kid. You would do well to realise that.”

Fury shook her. She wasn’t a child to be dictated to. “Alright. So he’s an adult. So what? He’s barely legal. I like Lou as a friend, but I’m not interested in him like that.”

“But it’s obvious he’s interested in you or he wouldn’t have invited you out to dinner.”

“Is having dinner a crime now?”

His expression darkened. “With a man who wants to be more than your friend? Yes, it is.”

She couldn’t believe they were having this discussion. He was acting like a jealous Neanderthal for no reason. “You’re being ridiculous. I had friends long before you barrelled into my life, and I have no intention of ending those friendships just because you’re irrational. You have no say in who I keep company with—”

“You’re wrong, Bria.” His arms tightened around her, his eyes swirling with dark clouds. “When I’m eating a woman’s pussy out every night, all night, then I think I get to have a say in who she’s seeing, who she’s fucking.”

Her cheeks grew hot at the image of him between her legs, his mouth pressed against her sex. Although they had yet to take that final step, the past week had been filled with him in her bed as they pleasured each other in every way imaginable. But, no self-respecting gentleman would have brought that up at a time like this, especially with people all around who were now staring at them.

She stopped in the middle of the dance floor. So much for not making a scene.

“We’re done here.” She twisted on her heels and stomped out of there before she let loose the curses she had for him on the tip of her tongue.

She made her way outside, the cool night air whipping across her face. Teresa’s ranch was probably the most impressive in all of Hockley. It was one of the few with a formal ballroom, which was where Teresa held her charity events and fundraisers. BJ couldn’t get away from there fast enough. She marched down the stairs, her heeled feet digging into the hard, unyielding earth.

She knew this land almost as well as she knew her own, so on instinct she found herself heading towards the stables. She was halfway there when a hand closed around her arm. She let out a tiny yelp, before she was spun around. Anger narrowed her eyes when she saw who it was.

“Damn it, you walk fast. Especially for someone who claims she never wears heels.”

She wrenched her arm from his grasp, and settled her hands against her hips. “What can I say? I guess it’s my long skinny legs.”

She hadn’t sought to draw his attention to her legs on purpose, but her comment did just that, as his gaze took a leisurely trip along the length of her legs.

“Skinny, no. Now long?” His brow arched. “Endlessly.”

Her breath caught in her chest at the desire that leapt in his gaze as he inched closer.

“I’m a jealous prick. I know it. I just have this thing about not sharing what’s mine.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Yours?” That was news to her.

“Mine.” Her heart skipped a beat, the intensity of his gaze threatening to set her on fire.

“I’m not interested in Lou.” Or any other man for that matter, but she had trouble forming words when his thumb brushed across her lower lip.

“Good.” Was all he said, his head dipping to crush his lips to hers.

She yielded under the forceful demand of his mouth, her tongue shooting out to tangle with his. He kissed her thoroughly, the weight of his mouth possessive. She arched into him, her arms twisting behind his neck, her breasts flattening against the solid muscles of his hard chest.

She whimpered when he pulled away from her, but he silenced her with a single finger against her lips.

“We gotta get out of the open field, but I’m not going to make it back to the ranch. Hell, I doubt I will be able to last long enough to make it to the car.”

She flashed him a mischievous grin as she grabbed his hand and led the way. She had the perfect place.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Just trust me.”

Seconds later they stood on the other side of a large open air structure.

His forehead wrinkled. “A barn?”

She pushed open the doors. “It doesn’t have a roof, just rafters.” She tugged him by the hand into the barn, and shut the door. “We can see the stars from inside.”

He followed her gaze towards the sky, before turning to her with a small smile.

“I’ve never made love under the stars,” he whispered, enfolding her into his arms.

Her eyes softened as she rested against his chest. “Well then, I’m glad I’m your first.”