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“How in the...” Jackson let out another strangled sound. “Never mind.”

“We can’t have anyone poking around in the business or asking questions. It’s too risky,” Gram said.

Right. Exactly. Turning this around fell on me. “Then I’ll kill any talk of a deal.”

Celia shook her head. “You’ll lose your job.”

No question. “So? I’m an expert at that.”

“We could refuse any further discussion on a buyout and lie low. Let Harlan and that Mr. California find another hobby.”

Too risky and Gram had to know that. The ladies shouldered enough of a burden without adding more. Then there was the other problem. “I’m not really great at waiting around and seeing how things go.”

Gram snorted.

“No kidding,” Jackson said with equal drama.

Celia went with a sigh. “We know, honey.”

Not exactly the cheer of support I expected but probably the response I deserved.

“My point is I made the mess. I’ll fix it.” This one time I wouldn’t screw up.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Two hours later I sat on Jackson’s couch with my feet balanced on his coffee table. On the drive over here, Jackson and I debated if the poison was still somewhere on Gram and Celia’s property. No matter how many times we’d asked we never got a clear response. Celia and Gram were determined to keep some secrets to themselves.

Jackson leaned back into the cushions. “This has been a hell of a day.”

We sat side by side, sprawled out, thighs touching, and more than a little unnerved by the information we’d just heard. “I know you’re tempted to blame my presence in town as the reason for the slightly chaotic way your week is going.”

He lifted his head and looked at me. “Slightly?”

Yep. Ignoring that. “But, today, that conversation was not my fault.”

He frowned but couldn’t hold the mood. Amusement lingered just under the surface and peeked out in subtle ways. In his voice. In the way he fought a smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw your back out jumping to that conclusion.”

“Look at you being all funny despite the lawyer thing.” He really had lightened up since that Anna chick left.

To be fair, she was probably very nice, because Jackson wouldn’t date a mean girl, but their personalities didn’t match...or maybe they matched too well. Not sure what the problem was but I’m not sad she’d moved on.

“I have many skills,” he said.

I never would have guessed making me feel at home, welcome, would have been one of them but here we were. We each had a glass of wine, but they sat untouched on the table, as if moving required too much energy. We were content to snuggle into the cushions with not a breath of air between us.

“It’s weird I’m not more upset about women offing their bad husbands.” Chalk it up to my father or my grandfather, but the idea of violent men being removed from society permanently barely caused a minute of uncertainty. Women’s safety trumped all other concerns.

“It’s hard to root for an abuser.”

I’d been prepared to argue and defend the ladies’ position but he didn’t express reservations. Sometime in the future we’d likely circle back and walk through the fairness issue but not today.

“Hearing Gram talk about...” No. I didn’t want to relive the description or hear the sound of her voice in my head though I knew I would. I’d never known my grandfather and couldn’t remember my father. One more gift Gram gave me.

“I know.” Jackson reached over and took my hand.

A sense of calm settled over me like a warm bath. The harsh facts didn’t disappear, but they faded into the background. Touching him, being this close, sharing this intimacy, the reassuring comfort of it all, restored my balance.

“I mean, I knew, but knowing andreally knowingare two different things.” That was enough babbling. “I’m just grateful Gram found Celia. They’re good together.”