Page 12 of Just One Look

Maverick

“Thanks for doing this. It means a lot,”

I say, rolling the wheeled cooler carefully up toward Clancy’s house. Sammy is “helping”

me by sitting on the lid, smiling like he’s in his own private chariot, legs swinging off the sides.

“Don’t mention it.”

Wagner hefts two fold-out lawn chairs over his shoulder.

“I’m eager to meet the guy you’re so smitten with.”

“Smitten? What is this? A fucking Jane Austen novel?”

Wagner grunts and eyes the cooler.

“You going to be okay tonight?”

“I’ll be fine. Honestly, I’m not tempted to drink at all. Maybe it was rehab. Maybe it’s the change of environment?—”

“And keeping better company.”

The disapproval seeping through his voice is unmissable. He was never a fan of my so-called friends or my ex, Luca, and it turns out he was right on both counts. They were toxic, and they all betrayed me in a way I could never have imagined.

“That, too,”

I agree.

“From now on, I’m happily sticking to iced tea, lemonade, and sparkling water.”

“Good man.”

Wagner tries to hide the fact under many, many layers of gruffness, but he really is a good brother. Only two people visited me in rehab: him and Ollie. Fenner was too far away, Adair was preoccupied with getting her bill through Congress, and Dad was…well, Dad. A no-show like always. It’s nice knowing my big brother cares, and it’s extra nice he wasn’t a dick and agreed to come tonight without making me beg.

We knock on the front door, and Clancy greets us with a warm smile. I introduce him to Wagner and Sammy, and he leads us through the house to the back patio, where everyone is gathered.

Two things strike me immediately.

One, the place is super fucking bright. So bright I’m regretting not bringing my sunglasses, even though it’s late dusk. The string lights over the table are completely redundant since the overhead lights are on, and several large LED floodlights are mounted on the walls and on poles in the backyard. I’m guessing this might be for Clancy, to make sure the old guy doesn’t take a fall. But it’s a little excessive.

And two, the vibe is different. I don’t know if Jackson had it out with his sisters about them inviting us over or if they’ve spent the rest of the afternoon eating and are in a semi-comatose food coma. Everyone smiles politely as I introduce Wagner and Sammy to them, but something is definitely a little off.

Clancy puts on some country music, and Chris calls out to Wagner and me, bringing an imaginary cup to his mouth.

“What’ll you guys have? We have beer, beer, and more beer.”

“There’s also wine and tequila,”

Verity adds with a smile.

“We’re good, thanks. We brought our own stuff,”

Wagner says, stepping in.

“Not huge drinkers.”

“No worries,”

Chris says.

“But if you change your mind, help yourselves.”

Everyone is out here except for Jackson and Pip. I glance into the house as Clancy joins us.

“He finally relented and listened to us. He’s inside getting dressed,”

he says, without even trying to hide his smile.

I play dumb. “Who is?”

“Santa Claus”

is Clancy’s smart-ass reply.

Wagner snorts beside me.

“Santa is here?”

Sammy asks.

Clancy winces, realizing he’s put his foot in his mouth.

“No. Clancy was just kidding. But you know who is here?”

I flick my hand toward the incoming figure.

“Pip!”

Sammy squeals in delight, rushing over and colliding with him so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t bowl the pint-sized dude over.

“Who’s that?”

Wagner mutters to me.

I wave Pip over.

“Pip, this is my older and uglier brother, Wagner. Wagner, this is one of the volunteers at the rescue center and Jackson’s best friend, Pip.”

The trademark confidence I’ve come to expect from Pip momentarily vanishes as he shakes Wagner’s hand, his cheeks turning a shade of pink under these ridiculously bright lights.

“Nice to meet you,”

Wagner says, a curious edge in his tone.

“You, too.”

Pip stares up at my brother, his gaze lingering a moment too long.

“Do you mind if I take Sammy to Sibella? She’s the pregnant one, and she’s dying to meet him.”

“Sure,”

Wagner says, sounding anything but.

“I’ll keep him safe. Don’t worry,”

Pip assures him in his rich, low register.

Wagner smiles. Actually physically smiles.

“That’s fine.”

“That’s fine?”

I check with him to make sure he hasn’t lost his mind once Pip and Sammy totter away.

He tips his head and steps away from us, finding a better vantage point.

“I’ll be watching them like a hawk.”

“Now, that makes more sense.”

Wagner was always bound to be an overprotective father, but since he unexpectedly ended up as a single dad, he’s never not in papa-bear mode. I track my gaze to Pip and Sammy, who have walked over to Sibella and Tim. Sammy’s making big hand gestures, regaling them with who-knows-what story. They all give him their undivided attention.

“He’s going to be a social butterfly, that kid,”

Clancy says.

“Great with people.”

“Gets it from me,”

I confirm, and Clancy chuckles warmly.

I turn back to Sammy as he places a hand on his hip, cocks his head to the side, and declares.

“What is this? A fucking Jane Austen novel?”

Everyone’s mouths drop open in shock.

“Shit,”

Wagner mutters, then glares at me.

“See? You are a bad influence on my kid.”

He storms off, and once he’s out of range, Clancy lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Bad influences are often the best.”

“One thousand percent.”

I lift my Solo cup filled with lemonade and tap it against Clancy’s beer bottle.

“Well, I’d best be off,”

Clancy says abruptly.

“Why’s that?”

He moves out of the way as Jackson steps out onto the patio. He lifts his hand to cover his eyes, needing a minute to adjust to the sports stadium lighting. When he clears his hand from his face and makes eye contact with me, my breath hitches.

He looks…different.

The casual red shirt and scruffy cargo shorts have been replaced by a pale-yellow short-sleeve oxford shirt and slim-fitting dark jeans, finished off with low-profile white Vans. His normally messy hair has been tamed and is being held in place by just enough gel to give it that telltale gleam. I’m so used to seeing him covered in mud and drenched in sweat, and while I very much like that look, clean and dapper Jackson is nothing short of showstopping.

“Hi,”

he says when he reaches me.

“Hey. You look great.”

He frowns and smiles at the same time, as if his brain is giving him mixed signals.

“Thanks. I… It’s nothing. I got peer pressured by everyone. It’s just some clothes that aren’t caked in dirt.”

“Well, for the record, non-caked-in-dirt clothes suit you.”

He blinks at me a few times, so I ask.

“Is it weird that I’m here?”

I’ve been wondering, low-key worried, how he’d react to seeing me after our earlier text exchange. Was I pushing the boundaries with the animated cock GIF? Maybe. I don’t see the harm in testing the waters. His lighthearted text back told me he wasn’t biting, and that’s fair enough. I can respect that and rein things in.

But now, seeing Jackson undergo the kind of dramatic glow up usually reserved for Drag Race All Stars seasons, I’m starting to think our text exchange might have planted a seed in his mind.

A seed of interest.

Maybe.

I’m still going to play it safe to not overstep.

“A lot of things about today have been weird,”

he says.

“But I’m glad you came.”

“Sounds like you need a drink. Can I get you anything?”

“Sure. What are you having?”

“Lemonade.”

“I’ll have the same, thanks.”

I grab a Solo cup and fix Jackson a drink from our cooler. Wagner and Sammy are with Jackson’s sisters and their partners, and Clancy and Pip are laughing about something, so I gesture to the empty picnic blanket laid out on the grass.

“Want to sit over there?”

“Uh, sure.”

There are three steps that lead from the back patio to the yard. When we get to them, Jackson frowns.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just these lights are messing with me. Can you hold my drink?”

“Sure.”

I take his drink, and he clutches onto the railing and lowers himself down the stairs. We trundle over to the blanket, the grass soft underfoot. When we get there, I adjust one of the LED lights away from us so that we’re not under a spotlight in full view of our families.

“This okay?” I check.

He nods. “Perfect.”

“Happy Fourth of July,” I say.

He clinks his cup against mine.

“Happy Fourth of July.”

We take a few sips before Jackson asks.

“Are they looking?”

It’s slightly weird that he’s the one asking since he’s got a better view of everyone than I do. As subtly as I can, I turn and sweep my gaze across the backyard and patio.

“Every single one of them,”

I reply.

“Pip is leaning so far over the railing he looks like he’s about to topple off the patio. Admittedly, he’s stuck talking to Wagner, so sustaining an injury would probably be more fun.”

“You like giving your brother shit, don’t you?”

“About as much as your sisters like teasing you, so yeah, I do.”

He rolls his eyes and takes another sip.

“I’ve never asked, how did you and Pip meet?”

“He got dumped out of the trunk of a car escaping from an Eastern European mob boss.”

I grin.

“Nice one.”

“I’m not joking,”

he replies flatly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was messed up. You wouldn’t know by looking at him, but that guy has gone through some shit. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“And the voice is wild.”

“The voice is wild,”

he agrees.

“But that’s Pip. Make assumptions about him at your own peril.”

Jackson puts his drink down, drops his head, and cradles the back of his neck.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. Just a big day. Got a bit of a headache.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d jump at the chance to tell me I could shut the hell up.”

He stops swiveling his head side to side and shoots me a hopeful look.

“Is it too late now?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The window has closed.”

I meet his gaze, our eyes locked on each other, and a warm glow ignites in my chest. Think I just got my first peek at Jackson’s softer side.

“How’s the sanctuary going?”

he asks.

“I mean, really going?”

“It’s hard. There’s a lot to do. But I’m taking it slow, getting an understanding of how things operate, not swinging my dick around for the sake of it.”

His eyes flare when I say dick, and I instantly regret not having said big dick. If I’m going to be dropping seeds, they may as well be honest ones.

He clears his throat.

“It seems like you’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks?”

“No. I’m serious. It’s a massive undertaking. Literally every single owner before you has failed. You haven’t.”

“Well, thank you. That means a lot coming from you… Does this mean you’re no longer richist against rich people?”

He snorts.

“You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

I chuckle and take another sip.

Silence creeps in again, but the nice kind. The kind you don’t feel compelled to fill with bullshit. The kind you can just sit and enjoy.

A Morgan Wallen tune floats in the night air, a warm breeze sweeps over my skin, and for the first time in a long time, I feel happy.

Peaceful.

Like things are locking into place.

“Uncle Kick!”

Sammy wanders over to us, his arms swinging wide.

“When are we having sa-mores?”

“Hey, buddy. You remember Jackson, from the sanctuary?” I say.

Sammy nods and bounces over to his side of the blanket.

“Hey, Michael Jackson.”

He sticks his tiny palm up for a high five.

Jackson awkwardly presses his much larger palm against Sammy’s.

“You do remember me.”

Sammy, to his credit, says nothing else that could be incriminating. Instead, he turns to me, lifts his little finger to his lips, and makes a playfu.

“zip” motion.

I smile at him to let him know he’s done the right thing keeping his mouth shut and make a mental note to chat with him about cooling it with obvious gestures that give it away.

Jackson either doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t give me shit about it, which is nice.

“I’ve never had sa-mores,”

Sammy tells Jackson.

“Really?”

Sammy nods as I rifle my hand through his blond locks.

“It’ll be his first fireworks show, too.”

Jackson lights up.

“Ooh, I looove fireworks.”

His excitement is such a U-turn from his usual demeanor it takes my brain a split second to decipher that he’s being genuine and not sarcastic. He starts telling Jackson about all the fireworks shows he went to as a kid. I sit back and let them have their moment. It’s the first time Jackson hasn’t appeared uneasy around Sammy.

“Sammy! You want a s’more, buddy?”

Wagner yells out from the fire pit he, Chris, and Tim must have lit up while Jackson and I were talking.

“Sa-moooores!”

Sammy squeals excitedly and takes off.

“It’ll be a big night for the little guy,”

Jackson says, looking after him.

“Yeah. It will be.”

I finish the last of my drink.

“Never knew you were so into fireworks.”

He smiles a little self-consciously.

“It’s dumb.”

“Don’t say that. If you like something, like it. I mean, look at Pip. Given the chance, he’d eat all the s’mores.”

I glance across the yard, watching the dude stuff his face.

“He’s not embarrassed. Own your shit, Hunter.”

“I…I guess.”

I haul myself up.

“Want me to get you one?”

He lifts his head, meeting my gaze with a smile.

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Coming right up!”

I return with s’mores…and his sisters. I try to hide my disappointment as I hand him the marshmallowy treat on a stick. Guess it’d be selfish to expect to have him all to myself all night. Verity helps Sibella lower onto the blanket, then sits next to her, leaving plenty of space next to Jackson, where I plonk my ass.

Verity lifts her glass, and Sibella yells for everyone to stop yacking, clearing the way for Verity to make a toast.

“I’ll keep it short. To family. To meeting wonderful new people. To enjoying the moment we’re privileged to share with each other.”

She smiles as she looks at Sammy, then shifts her eyes to me.

“And to a night of firsts.”

I lift my cup with a big smile on my face. “Cheers!”

Whatever weird juju that was here when we first walked in is totally gone. I’ve spent some quality one-on-one time with Jackson, and if his sister’s innuendo is innuendo-ing what I think it is, it sounds like there might be a possibility Jackson and I could end the night with more than just talking?

Sibella starts taunting Jackson with more pregnancy talk as I watch Sammy take big, messy bites of his first s’more. Wagner looks on in horror at first, but when Sammy gazes up at him, all sticky fingers and gooey smiles, he beams at his son like the proud papa he is.

The thing that keeps distracting me is being acutely aware of how close Jackson and I are sitting to each other. Every once in a while, when he says something to one of his sisters, he moves and brushes his knee against mine. How can such a small touch feel like the biggest thing in the world?

“Okay, everyone. Get ready. The fireworks are due to start in T-minus two minutes,”

Chris yells out.

Verity pulls Sibella off the ground as everyone scatters to grab drinks and find a good spot to watch the show, leaving Jackson and me alone again.

“I didn’t mean to hog you all evening,”

I say, getting up.

“You’re fine. I actually kind of enj—”

Jackson stops when he can’t lift himself off the blanket. I don’t know if something is up with him, but instead of sticking my nose where it’s not wanted, I extend my hand. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m just a little…”

He never finishes the thought. His rough hand slides into mine, sending tiny sprinkles of heat shooting up my arm. Once he’s standing, I reach down and hand him his cup.

“Thanks.”

He takes it from me, our fingers connecting. I don’t move. Neither does he. His green eyes flick to meet mine. I let out a shuddery breath, inching forward toward him as he leans almost imperceptibly closer to me.

With my heart galloping in my chest, I reach my hand out?—

“Uncle Kick! Come on! It’s starting soon. Hurry!”

Sammy barges into me, and in a flash, my second chance for a kiss with Jackson vanishes.

“I should, uh, probably go over to Clancy,”

Jackson says, jamming his hands into his pockets.

“We always watch the fireworks together. It’s kind of our thing.”

“And it looks like I’ve been summoned.”

Jackson looks at me, then drops his gaze to the ground, smiling.

“Thanks for the chat. I enjoyed it.”

“I did, too.”

I take Sammy’s hand in mine and walk over to where Wagner, Pip, and Clancy are leaning against the rail on the patio. Wagner pulls out a chair from the table and lifts Sammy onto it.

“Here.”

Pip clears out of the way so I can stand next to Sammy and moves to the other side of Wagner.

“Thanks.”

“Nice of you to show up,”

Wagner says dryly.

“Fuck off.”

I lean back and say to Pip.

“Please know that whatever awful impression my brother has made should not reflect on me at all. Unlike him, I actually have social skills.”

Pip smiles bashfully.

“I’ve actually been having a really nice time with him.”

“You…have?”

Wagner grunts and shoots daggers at me, but before either one of us can say anything else, the fireworks show begins. Sammy starts jumping up and down, so I place my foot on the back of the chair to stabilize it, boxing him in just in case he gets too excited and trips.

Jackson nailed it with his observation that today has been a weird day.

I never expected to crash his family’s lunch, and I certainly didn’t foresee how nice it feels to be so warmly welcomed by everyone tonight. I got to spend some quality non-work time with him. Clancy made sure everyone was having fun. Sammy stole the show, as usual, and everyone’s hearts. And it seems Pip wasn’t too put out being stuck with Sammy and my brother the whole night.

“Oh, wow. Wow! Wowwwww,”

Sammy says on repeat for the next several minutes as the night sky fills with an impressive array of brightly-colored fireworks. Wagner looks at me, and we share a smile.

I glance over to where Jackson and Clancy are standing near the blanket we shared. Clancy has his arm draped over Jackson’s shoulder and is saying something into his ear. They’re having a special moment, too. Bursts of color dance across Jackson’s face, and man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so beautiful as he is right now.

There’s no doubt about it.

I don’t just like Jackson Hunter. I really like him.

Who knows? Maybe tonight is a turning point. Maybe things with Jackson and I will enter a smoother, more peaceful era?

And the night is still young.

Maybe I’ll still get that kiss after all.