Her Ex: The Braxton Brothers Series Page 3

  Mrs. Andrews passed away when they were twelve, and despite what Mr. Andrews thought of him, Mrs. Andrews had actually liked him. Hearing Isabel talk about her caused his chest to tighten with memories.

  Isabel cleared her throat and pulled open the fridge to grab a can of sparkling water. That’s when he realized that he was staring at her. He’d walked into her house uninvited, and Isabel’s first reaction was to tell him this was a place he would always be welcome. Sure, Mrs. Andrews had told him their door was always open, but that didn’t mean Isabel had to.

  Isabel sighed and met his gaze like she knew what he’d been thinking. And, honestly, he wouldn’t put it past her. She always seemed to know. “We were friends once, right?” she asked.

  Jackson swallowed as he nodded. “Right.”

  She shrugged and waved for him to follow her to the front door. “No reason why we can’t remain friends. After all, I’m engaged, and I’m pretty sure you have someone in New York who is waiting for you to come back.” She pulled the door open and stepped outside, only to stop as the sticky afternoon air surrounded them.

  Startled, Jackson didn’t have time to stop, and he ran straight into her. Worried he’d knock her over, he reached out and grabbed ahold of her arms. Warmth cascaded across his palms and up his arms as the familiarity of her skin against his own assaulted his senses.

  She looked as startled as he felt as she raised her gaze up to meet his. It felt like an eternity passed between them as he held onto her. It was like his body had finally gotten her back and wasn’t sure it wanted to let her go again.

  His hesitation mixed with the depth in her gaze and froze Jackson in his spot.

  “I need to grab something,” she breathed.

  That seemed to snap Jackson from his trance. He dropped his hands like the warmth of her skin had burned him and stepped out of the way.

  He certainly wasn’t acting like a guy who had moved on from his high school girlfriend. Not wanting her to get the wrong idea—or maybe the right one—Jackson shoved his hands through his hair and then into his front pockets, hoping to squelch his desire to touch her again.

  She was engaged and very much off limits. He needed to remember that.

  “Right, sorry,” he said.

  Isabel gave him a small smile as she maneuvered past him and headed back toward the kitchen. A few seconds later, she returned with her drink, which she waved in front of him.

  He held the door open for her as she passed through. Once she was a safe distance away, he shut the door behind them, locked it with the spare, and then slipped the key back under the gnome.

  “You remembered?” she asked.

  Jackson straightened and turned, shooting her a sheepish look. “I took a guess that it was still there. Looks like some things never change.” He held her gaze for a moment as the weight of his words settled around him. He cleared his throat and nodded toward his car. “Can I give you a ride?”

  Isabel glanced at the black Lincoln and then squinted back at him. “Do you think it’s safe?”

  Not sure if she meant their relationship or his driving, Jackson shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Besides, I want to say hi to Dean.” To emphasize how fine he was about this, Jackson threw his keys up into the air as he made his way toward the driver’s door.

  He held his breath as he slipped into the seat and shoved the key into the ignition. He wasn’t sure if Isabel was going to follow, and relief flooded his body when he heard the passenger door open.

  She shut the door and wrapped her hands around her purse. Her lips were pressed together as she stared at the dash. “Thanks,” she said as Jackson started up the engine.

  He threw the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. “Of course. Besides, I’m pretty sure my mom would tan my hide if she found out I left you stranded.”

  Isabel’s chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh, pure and uninhibited. It filled the air in the car, washing over Jackson like the waves of the ocean.

  It sounded amazing—just like he remembered. This was the Isabel he knew. Not the fake one she’d been putting on for him earlier. This was perfection.

  Isabel smiled. “Your mom. I’ve missed her.”

  Jackson rolled to a stop at a red light. “I’m surprised. Has Honey Grove gotten bigger since I left?” He peered down the familiar downtown streets.

  Isabel shook her head. “No. I’ve just been…busy.”

  Jackson nodded. He didn’t need her reminding him that she was getting married. That her new life was about to start while his was wavering over a chasm of uncertainty.

  “Is he nice?” Before he could stop himself, the ridiculous question rattled off his tongue.

  He saw Isabel glance over at him with her eyebrows furrowed. A sharp honk sounded from behind them, and Jackson glanced up to see the light had turned green.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Your fiancé?”

  She nodded—a bit too quickly—as she worried her hands. “Right. Bobby.” She sighed. It wasn’t the soft, in-love sound he’d expected. No, this was more reserved. “Yes. He’s nice. Dad loves him.”

  Frustration coursed through Jackson at the mention of Mr. Andrews. He gripped the wheel as his knuckles turned white. Of course, he liked Bobby. Why wouldn’t he?

  Suddenly, all Jackson could think about was meeting the guy. Seeing what kind of person Mr. Andrews finally deemed worthy of his daughter’s hand. “I’d like the meet him,” Jackson said and then winced.

  Why did his voice have to give him away like that?

  The air fell silent. Confused, Jackson glanced over to find Isabel with her lips pinched together. She had a pained expression on her face like he’d struck a nerve.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, worried he’d crossed a line—he just wasn’t sure what line that was.

  Isabel shook her head. “No, it’s fine. There’s nothing to apologize for.” She turned and gave him a forced smile. “I’d love for you to meet Bobby, he’s just not here right now. He’s out of town on business.”

  Jackson pulled to a stop outside of Humanitarian Hearts. It was sandwiched between an ice cream parlor and a bakery on Main street. Dean, Jackson’s foster brother, had started it five years ago when he discovered that his birth mom had died from an overdose.

  Dean was probably the most selfless person Jackson knew. It boggled his mind that Dean deemed him worthy of his friendship.

  But what Isabel had just said was rattling around in Jackson’s mind. “He’s gone? Two weeks before the wedding?”

  Isabel nodded as she pushed her door open. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I have everything under control.”

  Was this what was bothering her so much? The fact that her wedding was days away and yet her fiancé was gone? “Isabel,” Jackson said, reaching out and wrapping his hand around her forearm, halting her retreat.

  She hesitated a moment and then turned to face him. She gave him a pleading smile. “I’m fine, Jackson, really. I’ve got everything handled. I’m pretty much just waiting for the big day myself.”

  Jackson furrowed his brows. He knew she was lying. The usual telltale signs were written all over her face. From the tremor in her bottom lip to the wrinkle that appeared between her brows.

  She was very much not okay.

  “Isabel—”

  But before he could finish, she held up her hand. “Please, Jackson. Don’t.” She shot him a pleading look, and he couldn’t help but pinch his lips closed.

  He hated that she was hurting. After all these years, all he wanted to do was make her happy. To take away her pain. So instead of pushing the issue, he just nodded.

  Isabel blew out her breath as she climbed out of the car. “I’ll see you around?” she asked, dipping down to meet his gaze.

  Jackson just nodded. He wasn’t planning to stick around past Jonathan’s wedding, but it didn’t feel right to mention that right then. Instead, he waved as she slammed the door and hurried to the entrance of the building. He waited a
few minutes before he climbed out of the car and headed in after her.

  He wanted to give her space and time to get situated. When he got inside, he just wanted to find Dean and lose himself in talking with his best friend and foster brother.

  ’Cause right now, he needed to lose himself before he was consumed by the feelings he’d been convinced were dead all these years.

  He’d gotten over Isabel once—he wasn’t sure if he could do it again.

  Chapter Four

  Isabel let out her breath as she entered the kitchen of Humanitarian Hearts. She didn’t like the way her heart was pounding or the way Jackson’s face kept surfacing in her mind.

  She needed to forget him.

  He was the past, and Bobby was the future. Jackson had a life in New York, and she had a life here in Honey Grove. And a big part of that life was getting her dad out of the nursing home and back with her.

  It was best for her to just forget everything he’d said. Everything that had happened between her and Jackson.

  She’d forgotten about him once. She could do it again.

  She hoped.

  “You look the worse for wear,” Nancy said as Isabel passed by. Nancy was cutting carrots into strips.

  Isabel snorted as she patted Nancy on the back. Nancy was twenty years her elder but was still one of her good friends. “Thanks. You always know how to make me feel better.”

  Nancy chuckled. “Anything for you, love.”

  Isabel made her way to the back to stick her purse in her locker and then grabbed a hairnet and apron. She made her way back to Nancy, tying the apron strings as she went. After washing her hands in the nearby sink, she grabbed a knife and started cutting.

  “Geez, hon. What did those carrots ever do to you?” Nancy’s voice cut through Isabel’s concentration. Isabel glanced up to see Nancy nodding toward the cutting board. “Want to talk about it?”

  Isabel dropped her gaze to the knife as embarrassment coursed through her.

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d just spent longer with Jackson than she thought possible or the fact that her car was broken and her meager bank account probably didn’t have enough money to fix it. Either way, her frustration had boiled over, and she was taking it out on the food.

  She sheepishly set the knife down and took a deep breath. Then she turned and smiled at Nancy, who was studying her a bit too hard. Like she knew exactly what was going on in Isabel’s mind.

  And since Nancy was basically a mother figure to her, Isabel was pretty sure she could see right through her.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Nancy asked again as she returned to the carrots in front of her.

  Yes, she did. But Isabel knew the minute she opened her lips her emotions would hit their boiling point, and she would lose what little control she had. And a commercial kitchen filled with about ten other people was the last place she wanted that to happen.

  Thankfully, Dean walked in before Nancy could push her further. Relief flooded her chest as she smiled over at him…until Jackson walked in behind him. They were laughing and joking—like it hadn’t been eight years since Jackson had been back.

  A dull ache took up residence in her chest she remembered the three of them spending sticky summer nights together as teenagers. They would eat snow cones and camp out under the stars. It was amazing how real the past could feel. It took Isabel’s breath away.

  Dean and Jackson didn’t stop as they made their way into Dean’s office and shut the door. Isabel swallowed, hoping to push down her emotions. She blinked a few times as she glanced down to ready her knife over a carrot.

  “Jackson is back?” Nancy asked just as Isabel pushed down.

  Her words startled Isabel, and the knife slid to the side and right on top of her finger. Isabel watched as blood welled. It took a few seconds before the pain reached her receptors.

  She yelped and grabbed her finger with her hand, applying pressure to the cut.

  “Isabel, are you okay?” Nancy asked.

  Tears stung Isabel’s eyes as she rushed over to the sink. She flipped on the water and ran her hands under it. The water turned red as the blood was flushed down the drain.

  “Are you okay?” Dean’s voice asked.

  Isabel jumped and turned to see that Dean and Jackson were behind her, staring into the sink. All she could do was nod as a tear rolled down her cheek. She wanted to say that it was from the cut, but with the way her heart was aching, it was from so much more.

  “I cut myself,” she said.

  Dean stepped closer and nodded toward her hands. “Let me see.”

  Isabel winced but brought her hands up and slowly uncurled her fingers from the cut. Her hand pooled with blood, and from the look on Dean’s face, it wasn’t good.

  “I think you should go see the doctor,” he said as he reached over the sink and pulled some paper towels free. Isabel nodded as she wrapped the paper towels around her finger and squeezed. Then she glanced over at Jackson, whose brow was furrowed as he studied her.

  She shot him a weak smile and then located Nancy, who was still standing by the counter cutting carrots. “Can you take me?” she called in Nancy’s direction.

  “I can take you,” Jackson offered.

  Isabel glanced over at him and then shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m sure Nancy can take me.”

  “It’s really no problem. I was just headed home anyway,” Jackson said, stepping closer to her.

  His close proximity sent Isabel’s mind swirling. She swallowed, trying to ground herself. It was ridiculous how he could still make her body react. He was her past. She’d gotten over him.

  She’d moved on.

  “That would be great, actually. I really need Nancy here to finish up,” Dean said, obviously not noticing Isabel’s discomfort.

  Great.

  The air fell silent, and Isabel realized that everyone was staring at her. She glanced around at everyone and then sighed.

  “Okay. Jackson can take me.”

  Dean patted her shoulder and then handed a slip for her to use when she got to the urgent care center since this was a work-related injury. She nodded and gingerly took it between her fingertips. Then she led Jackson to her locker, where he helped her slip out of her apron and hairnet and gather her stuff.

  Nancy shot her an apologetic smile as Isabel followed Jackson back through the kitchen and into the early evening air. He remained quiet as he held open her door so she could slip into the seat. She fumbled with the seatbelt, and Jackson dipped into the car.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  Isabel wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but knowing that was impossible, she just nodded. Jackson took the seatbelt and leaned over her, brushing her skin with his own.

  Her body flushed at his touch. Her stomach felt light from his mere presence. He was only millimeters from her right now. He smelled familiar. He felt familiar.

  And she hated and longed for it at the same time.

  Once the latch clicked and Jackson straightened, Isabel took in a deep breath and vowed never to be that close to him again.

  That way lay heartbreak. Besides, she was engaged. She couldn’t have feelings for her ex. She was just so discombobulated from everything that had happened. And she’d lost a lot of blood—she was just lightheaded from that.

  Not Jackson.

  He shut her door and jogged around the hood. He slipped into his seat and started the engine. It roared to life and he grabbed the back of her seat as he turned to look out the back.

  Isabel’s breath hitched in her throat.

  Frustrated and angry at herself, she shifted so that her arm was resting on the door and her body was as far away from Jackson as the car allowed.

  Once they were on the road heading toward the urgent care center, Isabel allowed her body to relax slightly. The tension she’d been feeling began to settle, and she could finally breath again.

  “How are you feeling?” Jackson asked. She felt his
gaze on her and turned to see him studying her.

  Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “My hand hurts, but other than that, I’m okay.” She winced as a sharp pain shot through her arm.

  It was strange. The pain from her cut was dulled by her reaction to Jackson. But when she actually focused on her hand, she was reminded that she had a cut on her finger.

  “I’m hurrying,” Jackson said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jackson focus back on the road.

  “Thanks,” she said. It came out soft and vulnerable—just like she felt.

  Blast.

  “Of course,” he said glancing over at her once more.

  She shifted in her seat. Why did things have to be so complicated? Why hadn’t time allowed her to forget what it was like to be with Jackson. Why was it constantly reminding her of everything she’d missed the moment he left?

  She’d been hurt, but she’d moved on. At least, that’s what she thought.

  “I’m here for you, you know that, right?” Jackson’s tone was low, and his words held so much meaning that the lump she’d successfully wrestled down returned.

  Why couldn’t he be mean? It was harder to hate him or convince herself that she’d moved on when he was being so nice.

  Jackson glanced over at her expectantly.

  “I know,” she said, her heart squeezing. Truth was, she knew he was there for her. That’s who he was.

  He nodded as he pulled into the urgent care parking lot and killed the engine. “Come on, let’s get you stitched up.”

  Isabel moved to grab her door handle. As she shifted to climb out of the car, Jackson was already there, waiting for her. He rested his hand on her door and extended his free hand. She stared at it for moment before she forced herself to take it.

  They were on a good path right now. There was no need to reject his help.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled as she slipped her hand into his. Warmth spread across her skin and ricocheted into her heart. Her pulse quickened and her body warmed from his touch.