Page 55

“We shouldn’t do this. It’s a bad idea.”

“Kissing you is about as far from a bad idea as we can get.”

She shook her head. “You’re only saying that because you’re loopy from the medication. Believe me. When it wears off, you won’t feel this way.”

He grabbed her hand, not hurting her but keeping a firm grip. The haze suddenly lifted enough from his mind, and he no longer felt silly or flirtatious. He was serious, and he wanted her to know it.

“I’ve felt this way since the first time we sparred with each other. You spouted off and drove me crazy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even afraid, you’ve stood up to anyone who came after you. You are tough and strong and sexy as hell. I promise you, my feelings are not drug-induced. They come from a red-blooded attraction to a woman whose beautiful, smart, and creative.”

“You can save the seduction. I understand it’s about the sex for you,” she retorted.

“I have no doubt sex with you would be mind blowing. But spending time with you, getting to know you and seeing where this goes, that’s a gift. Probably the best damn one I’ve ever gotten.”

He shocked her, speechless. He grinned at the sight, enjoying it because he knew it wouldn’t last long.

She stood and stepped away. “It can’t work. Your home is here. I have a life. It’s a full life. I don’t need anything more. Especially if it’s only going to lead to heartbreak. You and I both know you can’t promise more.”

“Nothing says your heart would be the one broken if we take a risk. This road goes both ways,” Jackson drawled.

“I don’t like taking risks.”

He threw back his head and laughed heartily, wincing as the movement made his entire body ache and pulled at his shoulder wound. “You’ve done nothing but take risks the whole time I’ve known you, so don’t bullshit me. You’re running scared, even if you don’t admit. Run all you want, Reagan, but you need to remember one thing. If you run, I’ll chase you. That’s how good I think we’ll be together.”

Her defenses went up. The spark flashed in her eyes, but this time, Jackson wasn’t as happy to see it. She wrapped her arms around her middle, and Jackson saw he’d lost her. She would take a risk with anything else in her life – but she couldn’t bring herself to take a risk with him.

“I think we’re too different. I only write about murder and danger. You live it. That’s not the kind of life I want.”

“You’re doing this because I’m a Legend? Dammit, Reagan, you get if I wasn’t a Legend, you’d probably be dead right now. I think it’s an excuse. I think you’re running because I’m loyal to the father you despise. I think you’re holding it against me because he left you but took me in.”

Jackson couldn’t say where his anger came from. When he was with Reagan, it didn’t matter. She had a way of pushing his buttons to stir his fury without much effort. Only this time was different. She was ignoring their feelings because of a grudge she couldn’t let go of. Jackson didn’t want to make light of her hurt and feelings of abandonment, but he wasn’t her father. He had no intention of letting her go.

“You’re an asshole when you’re hurt. Anybody ever tell you that?”

She stormed over to the door, but paused. He waited for several seconds, hoping she’d change her mind but knowing the thought was unrealistic.

Turning around, she pierced him with one last stare. The dark depths of her eyes appeared tortured, and he almost risked falling on his face by climbing out of the bed to go to her.

“I don’t hate English. I don’t hate you. I’ll never forget how you saved me and my mother. But giving you anything more…I can’t. I need you to respect my wishes.”

She slipped out the door and was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

One month later…

Taylor fingers moved over the keyboard, the tapping of the keys slower than her usual speed. Six little letters. A space in the middle. A return when she finished. She leaned back against her desk chair and stared at the screen.

The end of a book always brought mixed emotions – relief, exhaustion, elation, and despondency. She felt a mixture of those after returning from Fire Creek and completing her work in progress. She sent it to her editor and immediately went to work on another one. This one.

Usually, she would take a break between books. She needed time to reset her creativity while she promoted her latest release. Rest would not come this time. Her muse refused to leave her alone. The words sprang to mind despite her best efforts to ignore them. The itch returned with a vengeance. Writing every moment she had, hours spent in front of her laptop, barely leaving her house, only answering the phone to speak to her mother and father – this had been her life since leaving Fire Creek for good.

Losing herself in work was what she needed. The distraction kept her from regretting her choices, but it didn’t have a prayer of taking her mind off of Jackson. In fact, he, English and the boys inspired this book. The strong emotions she felt from the short time she spent with them fueled the pace she kept with her writing schedule.

The book was done. She should feel the familiar emotions that came from finishing something she started. Instead, the emotions she’d been fighting bubbled to the surface. Fear, regret, loss, anger…and something she couldn’t label. She wasn’t exactly nursing a broken heart because she’d never given her heart away. But the feeling was sharp, weighing heavy on her body until she lost all desire to move. She sat in her chair, staring at the screen, and tried not to think about what was next for her. When she thought of the future, it was empty, a haze of black and gray preventing her from seeing what lay ahead.

When her cell phone rang, she jerked out of her trance, her heart thundering in her chest. Seeing the wordmotherflash across the screen, she took a deep breath to calm herself before she answered.

“Hello, honey.”