Her Ex: The Braxton Brothers Series Page 7

  Her heart raced as she pulled away. She cleared her throat and rubbed her arm. “Sorry,” she muttered as she peeked up at him.

  Jackson was staring at her as if he felt as confused as she did. He shook his head. “It’s okay. I don’t break.”

  Isabel glanced at his chest, her cheeks heating from the memory of his strong arms around her. Whenever he was close, she felt protected. Even now. They weren’t together anymore, but he still made her feel safe.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Jackson hesitated for a moment before he pulled open the door and waved her inside. “After you,” he said.

  Grateful to put some space between them and get a handle on her emotions that ran away with her when she was with him, she nodded and stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant. A few customers dotted the counters that jutted out from the wall and left a section in the middle for the waiter to walk down.

  Isabel rubbed her arms as goosebumps formed. It was cool inside, and the thought of eating ice cream had her insides feeling frozen.

  “Ah, it’s still up,” Jackson said as he walked past her and over to the bulletin board, studying the photos.

  Intrigued with who else was in the Hall of Fame, Isabel walked up behind him. Jackson’s picture looked aged, the colors fading under the fluorescent lights.

  His smile was huge, just like she remembered. His hair was longer then, swooping to the side. Her fingers tingled as the memory of running her hands through it came back to her. He looked so…happy.

  She missed that.

  Back then, they didn’t have worries. They could just love each other. Now, every relationship she tried to have was so clouded in expectations and worry. Worry that she would ruin things. Worry that she’ll never make her dad happy. Worry that somehow Jackson leaving had been her fault. That he’d found out something about her. That she really was just unlovable, and that was why he’d left.

  “Ready?” Jackson asked from behind her. A warm sensation spread across her back. Startled, she turned to see that Jackson had placed his hand there as if to draw her attention to him.

  It had worked.

  She pinched her lips together and nodded. “Yes,” she said, ready to get away from the picture of Jackson and move on with her life.

  Her past was just that—in the past. There was no need to drum up old feelings.

  Jackson led her over to their old spot—a booth in the very back corner—and dropped down onto the old, cracking vinyl.

  Isabel sat across from him and set her purse next to the wall. Eight years ago, she would have slid in next to him so she could share his body heat as she ate her ice cream. But now, that would be inappropriate and very strange.

  Jackson opened the menu and began to study it.

  Feeling like an idiot for obsessing over things that didn’t matter, Isabel focused on the menu. She scanned the items a few times and then sighed as she closed the menu and propped it back behind the salt and pepper shakers.

  She didn’t need to look at the menu. She already knew what she was going to get. Mint chocolate chip ice cream, two scoops. Same as always.

  Jackson seemed to have decided as well. He closed his menu and propped it behind hers. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop a few times, glancing around the room.

  Thankfully, some peppy, blonde teenager approached. She snapped her gum a few times as she wrote their order down on her little notebook, her ponytail bouncing as she nodded.

  She thanked them, told them it would be a few minutes, and headed back to the kitchen.

  As their waitress left, Isabel glanced around. It felt so familiar to be in here that it was making her heart ache. She hadn’t realized until now, but the last time she was here was the week before Jackson had disappeared.

  The week before he broke her heart.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jackson asked, drawing her attention over to him.

  Not wanting to dig up the past, Isabel shrugged. “Just how this place hasn’t changed.”

  Jackson glanced around too. “Yeah. It’s strange. You can be gone for so long, and yet, when you come back it’s like nothing’s changed. Like Honey Grove is stuck in time.” He pinched his lips together as if he suddenly realized how that sounded.

  It didn’t sound good. “Honey Grove changes. Maybe not as fast as New York does, but we change. We’re not some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.” Isabel hated the bite to her tone but couldn’t help it. This was the exact reason she hadn’t wanted Jackson to see her life. She knew he would think less of her.

  “Isabel,” Jackson said, his tone taking a serious note.

  Feeling frustrated, Isabel kept her gaze focused on the table. She recognized that tone. It was the one Jackson used when she overreacted. Even though she knew he was probably right, she wasn’t ready for him to tell her that.

  A few seconds passed before Isabel raised her gaze to meet his. His lips were tipped up into a soft smile, and his eyebrows were raised.

  She studied him for a moment and then sighed, feeling her frustration melt away. “What?” she asked.

  Jackson chuckled as he folded his arms. “I wasn’t saying that like it’s a bad thing. If anything, it’s been a breath of fresh air to come home. Like, no matter what, I can depend on Honey Grove.” His voice deepened, and Isabel couldn’t help the rush of emotions that flooded her. “I like it,” he said as he focused his gaze on her.

  Not sure what to say, Isabel held his gaze for a moment before sighing as she focused back on the inside of the parlor. Maybe he was right. She didn’t like change, so living in a town that was slow to change was comforting.

  If only she could slow time with her dad, then maybe she could take a moment to be happy. “Sorry,” she said as she peeked over at him.

  Jackson furrowed his brow. “For what?”

  “For assuming you were judging me,” she admitted, the words tumbling from her lips.

  “What? Why would I judge you?”

  Isabel pinched her lips together as she took in a deep breath. Part of her wanted to keep her feelings hidden, but the other part wanted to tell Jackson everything. After all, that’s what she used to do—confide in Jackson.

  A shred of confidence seemed to be all she needed. Instead of pulling back inside of herself, she allowed her thoughts to flow, no matter the consequence.

  “I don’t know, Jackson. You left and now you live this glamorous life in New York. And me? I’m here, still doing everything I did when you left. I was…embarrassed.” The last word escaped as a whisper. She hadn’t been sure if she should say it, but now that it was out in the open, she couldn’t take it back. And that terrified her.

  When Jackson didn’t respond, Isabel glanced up. There weren’t many of his expressions that she couldn’t read, but this was one of them. He stared at her for a moment before he leaned in closer.

  “Why would you think I’d judge you?”

  Isabel’s eyebrows went up as she considered his question a second time. “Seriously, Jackson? Honey Grove was never good enough for you. You wanted this fancy, glamorous life. But that wasn’t what I wanted or who I could ever be.”

  Jackson leaned back against the booth and folded his arms across his chest. Before he responded, the waitress returned with their order, setting the bowls in front of them and handing them some spoons. They both thanked her, and she smiled as she walked away.

  Isabel was grateful for the distraction eating gave her. She didn’t have to talk when ice cream filled her mouth.

  A few minutes later, though, Jackson picked right back up where they’d left off.

  “I didn’t leave because you wouldn’t fit into my ‘glamorous’ life,” Jackson said as he stared at his ice cream. His nose wrinkled slightly when he said glamorous.

  Isabel hesitated mid bite. She wanted to believe him, but she was having a hard time accepting it. “Really?” she asked.

  Jackson pushed his spoon around his bowl. “Of course. I knew whatever
life I created, you’d fit right in.” He brought his full spoon up and slipped it into his mouth.

  Isabel stared at him. Did he really think that? If that was the truth, why did he leave? She parted her lips to ask, but before she could utter the words, her phone rang.

  She glanced down to see that it was the nursing home calling. Worry flooded her body as she lifted her phone and glanced up at Jackson. “I should take this,” she said as she began to scoot from the booth.

  Jackson raised his eyebrows but nodded. “Everything okay?”

  “It’s my dad.”

  A forlorn look passed over Jackson’s face as he settled back. “Of course. Go ahead.”

  Not having time to waste trying to decipher Jackson’s reaction, Isabel moved to the far wall and pressed the talk button. “Hello?”

  “Miss Andrews?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Nurse Dorthy. I’m here with your dad. He’s a little confused today, and I think hearing your voice would help. Do you mind talking to him?”

  Isabel cleared her throat and nodded. “Yes, of course. Put him on.”

  “Wonderful. Hang on just one minute while I tell him who’s on the phone.”

  Isabel waited, chewing her thumbnail. Worry rushed over her body as she waited to hear the familiar, tired voice of her father.

  He was upset, rambling about wanting to be home to pick her up from school. Isabel had to remind him that she was no longer in school. Her dad was still confused, but she seemed to be able to calm him down.

  After a quick update from Dorthy, Isabel told her she would call again soon and hung up.

  Holding the phone with both hands, Isabel took some deep breaths. It was never easy, talking to her dad on the phone like that. It only reminded her how fast things were changing and how desperate she was to get him home. If she waited too long, he was going to slip away before she could pull him back.

  Tears stung her lids as she blinked a few times, trying to calm herself down. She didn’t want to be a jumble of nerves when she got back to the table. It took a few more deep breaths for her emotions to settle.

  Feeling better, she forced a smile and made her way back to the booth.

  Jackson was almost finished with his ice cream and glanced up as she slipped back into her seat. She could feel his stare on her as she pushed her ice cream around with her spoon, not sure if she wanted to talk about what had happened.

  “Everything okay?” Jackson asked.

  Isabel nodded. “Yeah. Dad was just confused. I had to help calm him down.”

  When Jackson didn’t respond right away, she glanced up. He was watching her again with a confused expression. She sighed, not wanting to really delve into the details of the situation.

  She set her spoon down and grabbed a few napkins to wipe her fingers. After she was clean, she reached into her purse and grabbed a ten-dollar bill. She moved to set it on the table, but Jackson extended his hand, stopping her.

  “Hey,” she said, startled.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, waving toward her purse as if he wanted her to put it away.

  “It’s okay. I can pay for myself.”

  Jackson shook his head. “No. It’s my treat.” His expression hardened as he stared her down.

  Realizing that she wasn’t going to win this battle, Isabel just nodded. “Thanks,” she said.

  Jackson paid and they both stood and started making their way toward the door. Isabel wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say or even what they were going to do from here, but she did know one thing—as fun as it was to talk with Jackson, that’s all it was going to end up being.

  Talk.

  In the end, Jackson was going to leave, and she was going to be right back where she started. With a sick Dad and a deep desire to make him happy.

  Jackson was nowhere in that equation. She needed to remember that.

  Chapter Nine

  They walked in silence back to Jackson’s car. Isabel didn’t wait for him to open her door, although she did hear his grunt of protest as she pulled on the handle.

  “Isabel,” he said, his hand holding onto the top of the door.

  He held it tight as she tried to gain control of it. She could tell from the determined look on his face, he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

  “We should get going. The caterer is waiting for me,” Isabel said, hoping to deter whatever conversation he wanted to have.

  Jackson didn’t drop his gaze, nor did he flinch from her words. Instead, he stood there with his gaze trained on her face. She knew that expression. He was fighting the questions that she could see were burning in his mind.

  She didn’t want to hear what he was thinking. She just wanted to move forward like nothing had changed. She was marrying Bobby in two weeks, and Jackson was leaving.

  That was what he was doing at the end of the weekend—leaving again.

  She couldn’t disrupt her life and wait for him to decide to come back and stay with her. She had a plan that didn’t include him, and she needed to cling to it with all the willpower she had left.

  Jackson was a leaver—period.

  Finally, he released her door and rounded the car to climb into the driver’s seat. But, when Jackson didn’t start driving, she turned her body toward him, giving him her full attention.

  “What, Jackson?” she asked, annoyance causing heat to prick her skin.

  Jackson stared at her a moment longer before he let out his breath like he was releasing something heavy from his shoulders. “Where’s your dad?” he asked as he leaned forward and shifted the car into reverse.

  Jackson’s question shocked Isabel for a moment. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to ask. Nothing about Bobby. Nothing about their failed relationship. Just a question about Dad.

  And questions about Dad were things she could answer.

  It was a strange sensation as her body let go of the tension she’d felt as she’d prepared to justify and defend her relationship with Bobby. Her muscles ached as she relaxed back into her seat and blew out her breath.

  “He’s in a home,” she said softly. It hurt, saying those words. Especially since it was her job to take care of him.

  When Jackson didn’t say anything, she peeked over at him. He was studying the road with determined intensity. “What happened?” he asked. “He’s too young to go into a retirement home.”

  Tears pricked Isabel’s eyes as she nodded. That was the truth. Her dad was too young to have this happen, and most days she felt too young to be responsible for him. “He has Alzheimer's.” The name of the disease that was slowly taking over her father felt like poison on her tongue.

  Her heart was broken, and her soul ached for her father to return to her. But that wasn’t going to happen. All she could do now was get her life together enough to get him home where she could spend the little time he had left with him.

  “I’m so sorry, Izzie,” Jackson said. His voice had deepened, and she could hear the intensity in his voice—he meant it.

  Her heart swelled. She couldn’t even get that kind of concern from her fiancé, and she’d wanted it. Bad. She needed someone to help her come to terms with what was happening, not try to force her to move on.

  Bobby was a “move on, the outcome is already set” kind of guy. And he didn’t realize what it was doing to her. She was breaking and didn’t know how to put herself together again.

  Jackson’s hand appeared in her blurry vision. She watched as he wrapped his fingers around her hand. His skin was warm and familiar and made her soul ache. Her body remembered what it was like to be held by Jackson and ached for that reassurance.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. Even though a part of her wanted to think that this might mean something more, she knew she couldn’t look at it that way. Jackson was an old friend. He was showing his support like any friend would do.

  They’d had a chance, and it hadn’t worked out. There was no way anything could happen between them now. They were o
ver.

  Silence engulfed them as Jackson drove down the streets of Honey Grove. Even though Isabel felt hopeless, she was comforted by sitting next to Jackson as she stared out at the familiar town—the place she’d grown up. It held all of her memories.

  And she couldn’t imagine leaving. Not for trips to Paris or Machu Picchu. She loved it here. This was where she belonged. Honey Grove held her heart in its hands.

  Jackson pulled into the parking lot of Holly’s Catering and let go of her hand to turn off the ignition. Isabel tried not to complain when the cool air hit her skin.

  She missed being close to Jackson. She missed their talks and how at home she felt when she was around him. She missed…him.

  And even though she tried to remind herself that he was leaving, her body was screaming that he was here, now. That she should take advantage of the time they had.

  She just didn’t know how to do any of this. What was being friends with Jackson like? What did it mean? What was appropriate to ask?

  Not sure what to say, she parted her lips and said the first thing that came to her mind. “You were always a great friend. Thanks.”

  Jackson’s shoulders tightened as he gripped the steering wheel. His gaze was trained on the dash, and she could see his jaw muscles flinch as frustration emanated from him.

  He was hurting, but she wasn’t sure why.

  “Jackson?” she asked, leaning forward.

  That seemed to snap him out of his trance. His shoulders relaxed as he glanced over at her, shooting her a strained smile. “Yeah?”

  She studied him, wondering what was bothering him. But then she decided to shrug it off. When she began to wonder, she made mistakes. And right now, she loved having Jackson here with her. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their new relationship…whatever it was.

  So she just gave him a soft smile. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

  Jackson pushed his hands through his hair and nodded. “Great.” Then he motioned toward the front door of the building. “I’ll wait here.”