Page 20 of Just One Look

Jackson

All my life, I’ve had plenty of ammunition to fuel my anger.

Getting diagnosed with an eye condition when I was four. Dad dying. Mom leaving us. Clancy losing our family land. Rich assholes moving to Silverstone, treating it like their own personal playground with little regard for the locals.

Wherever I look, there’s an injustice, something to get mad about, to rally against.

I’ve been raging at so many things and so many people for such a long time it feels like anger is baked into the foundation of who I am. And now that I’m so used to it, anger has become my default response, and it’s every other emotion that’s complicated.

It’s not something I’m proud of. I realize it’s a character fault. A defect. Something I’m stuck with, that I’ll never be able to fix, even if I could afford all the therapy in the world. Which is why I’ve been trying to create some distance between Maverick and myself. This is just one of the many ways I’m broken, and he deserves better.

At the very least, he deserved an apology, which is why I said sorry. Twice. It doesn’t make up for me reacting like a jerk, but it’s a small first step. I am truly sorry, and for more than just exploding at him the way I did before.

Coming up with that nightmarish to-do list was pretty messed up on my part, too. It seems to have really hurt him in a way I never intended…probably because I was too wrapped up in my own head to think it through properly.

Maverick is the best owner the sanctuary has had in all the years I’ve worked there. He actually gives a shit and means it when he says he wants to make things better. Why was I trying to make him leave, only to get replaced by someone worse?

A truce is exactly what we need right now. I’ve misjudged him in several big ways, made assumptions about who he is based on ideas I had of his so-called perfect family and life. But I plucked those ideas out of nowhere, really, a few online articles and my own deeply entrenched belief that most rich people are self-centered assholes. I’ve never given him a proper chance.

Until now.

We’re stuck here until Sunday. This weekend could be the fresh start we need. We didn’t exactly have the best of beginnings. If I remember correctly, I flipped him off within two minutes of meeting him outside Bunny’s.

This can be our do-over. Starting with me giving the guy an actual chance. Heck, I might even try being nice to him…and actually mean it this time. No ulterior motives.

After a joint trip to the kitchen, mining for even more sugary junk food to add to the world’s unhealthiest dinner, we settle into a conversation that feels refreshingly warm and comfortable.

“Okay, okay. Last TV show you binged?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes, polishing off a Kit Kat.

“That would be The White Lotus.”

“Thoughts?”

“Meh.”

He lifts a shoulder and smirks.

“My family has stayed at nicer places.”

I fling a Reese’s Pieces at him.

“What did you really think of it?”

“It was fine. The music was neat, but…”

He trails off, rifling through the pile of candies and discarded wrappers on the coffee table, pretending like he’s searching for his next chocolate hit, but I get the sense it’s a delay tactic. He finally selects a Tootsie Pop, twisting it between his fingers.

“It was weird watching fucked-up rich people in a fictional TV show and thinking to myself, ‘They’ve got nothing on my family.’”

“Give me a break. You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,”

he says, chewing thoughtfully.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

After a while, he straightens his spine and says.

“Mom worked her ass off, climbing the corporate ladder in the shipping company her great-grandfather founded. She wasn’t the first, but she was one of the few female CEOs in an industry that’s a total sausage fest. She gave that company everything, growing it from the fifth largest in the world to the second. And while I’m proud of everything she achieved…”

His shoulders sag a little.

“I feel horrible for even saying this, but…I wish she’d been a better mom. She was never around, and it just feels like she didn’t care about her kids. Our family vacations were scheduled around her business trips. She missed two birthdays before I was ten. Our nanny was a monster bitch from hell. My father was a serial adulterer who cheated on her so many times I’m expecting a half sibling to show up on my doorstep any day now. And after sacrificing everything for her career, she got diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. Before she passed away, her brothers swooped in and took her share of the company, effectively freezing my father, brothers and sister, and me from our rightful inheritance.”

Our eyes meet. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and I recognize it, that smoldering fury simmering away just beneath the surface. He’s just a lot better at containing it than I am.

“But hey, at least I never jerked off any of my brothers.”

I offer a small smile. “Right.”

“Don’t know where that came from. I don’t usually… Sorry. I probably should have warned you or at least paused midway to give you the option of disembarking the crazy train.”

“No, it’s fine. I just…”

“Yeah?”

“…have so many questions.”

He unwraps another Tootsie Roll and plops it into his mouth.

“What do you want to know?”

All. The. Things.

There is so much to unpack in what he just said, I almost don’t know where to begin. I tackle the largest one first.

“Did your mom know your dad was cheating on her?”

“I think so. He was hardly discreet about it.”

“Why didn’t she leave him?”

“Don’t know. They were two hugely dysfunctional individuals, but somehow, they sort of worked together. I think Mom realized her career created a vacuum within the family, so she let Dad do whatever he wanted so he’d stay.”

“Are you and your dad close?”

He shakes his head.

“Not really. He’s a nepo baby himself. He was meant to run the winery Wagner is now. But working was for people who didn’t have cushy trust funds to fall back on. So the family brought in a team of outsiders who ruined the name and reputation Grandpa Rick spent his whole life working to achieve. As always, Dad created a mess for others to clean up after him. This time, it’s Wagner.”

“How’s he managing?”

Maverick chews his lip.

“He’s giving it his all, working harder than he’s ever worked in his life, but I don’t think it’s going well. Every time he gets close to securing financing, something comes up at the last minute to derail it. We’re not the prestige wine brand we once were, and who wants to take a risk in this economy?”

“You’re close with him, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Wag stepped in to fill in for our absent parents.”

“You said you guys had a nanny.”

He groans.

“Monster bitch from hell,”

he repeats.

“Why?”

“She was just…cruel.”

“What would she do?”

“Lots of weird little things that stacked up over time. Her sick form of psychological torture. Like she’d make us eat our dinners in complete silence. Or lock my sister, Adair, in the pantry. Or tease my brother Fenner for being colossally tall. Or giving me the wrong answers on my homework. Messed-up stuff like that.”

“That’s awful. Why didn’t your parents do anything?”

He gives a quick shrug.

“Good fucking question. Like I said, they were absent. We were left to fend for ourselves, forced to rely on Wagner for emotional support, not realizing he wasn’t the naturally nurturing type. But hey, at least she never hit us or anything.”

“That’s a pretty low bar.”

“I know. I’m not rationalizing it. We’re all fucked-up from it.”

Something clicks into place.

“Is that why Wagner doesn’t hire a nanny now?”

Maverick nods.

“He wouldn’t trust anyone, and I honestly don’t blame him. Even if Sammy was the most awful kid in the world, he’d be our awful kid to take care of.”

I’m curious to know more about Sammy’s mom, but that’s really none of my business. I’ve only met Wagner once. So I ask a possibly way-too-personal question instead.

“What’s the deal with your sobriety?”

He smiles sadly.

“Wow. You’re getting the greatest-hits package of my trauma tonight. Sure you want to know?”

I nod without thinking, but even once my brain catches up, I keep nodding. “I do.”

“It’s pretty pathetic, actually. Typical poor rich-boy situation that’s played out a million times.”

“Hey. You’re not a typical rich boy,”

I point out with a smirk.

“You’re a rich asshole, remember?”

He grins.

“With you around, how could I forget?”

“I do my best.”

His grin widens as he scoops up a Snickers and peels back the wrapper. My mind remains completely focused on him and does not in any way, shape, or form imagine his mouth opening and jaw unclenching to swallow my cock the way it does to take a bite of candy.

“Everyone in my family has always known what they wanted to do with their lives. For Wagner, it was the military, then following in Mom’s footsteps to take over the business. Adair was destined for politics since she got elected into the student council in the fourth grade.”

He smiles and points the Snickers at me.

“Mark my words, she’s going to be the president of this country one day. And Fenner has always been a bit of a loner. He got bullied about his size, so he retreated into a world with no humans.”

“Which is?”

“The ocean. He’s got a PhD in Marine Ecology. His happy place is a remote island or on a floating research hut in the middle of the ocean.”

“Anywhere without all those pesky humans.”

“Correct. He’s a really great guy. I love him a lot. Just wished he lived closer.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Two years ago.”

“That’s a long time.”

“It is. He was meant to come back last year for Adair’s thirtieth, but they got into a huge fight, and he didn’t end up making it. Anyway, that’s a whole other story. After college, I worked in marketing at the shipping company.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Not really, but I was good at it, and it kept me out of trouble.”

He blows out a breath.

“Until Luca walked into my life.”

He starts telling me about his sophisticated European artist boyfriend, and I’m stuck between wanting to know every last detail about the guy and literally wanting to tune out every single word Maverick says.

“Turns out, he wasn’t a good person. He, uh…he slept with four of my supposedly closest friends.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Wish I was. He’s a Libra, and apparently, they have difficulty making decisions.”

“That really sucks. I’m so sorry.”

“It gets worse,”

he says, chomping down on his candy.

“How can it get worse than that?”

“All of my other friends in my inner circle, they all knew about it and didn’t say anything. I understand friendships are complicated and that their loyalties might have been split, but come on. Not one of them had enough of a backbone to see that what was happening was wrong and fucking tell me?”

Some of his suppressed anger seeps through his normally composed fa?ade.

“That’s really horrible.”

“It is. But it’s made me really value honesty. I can put up with a lot, but I cannot deal with lies.”

A tremor of guilt courses through my chest. I may not have ever outright lied to him, but I haven’t been forthcoming either. Clancy being my grandfather. Our family owning the rescue center. My eye condition.

“Anyway, when I found out about the cheating, I amped up my alcohol intake even more.”

“But you dumped his ass, right?”

He drops his head.

“Not right away. He begged for a second chance, so I gave him one. Deep down, I knew it wouldn’t work, but I guess I wanted to give him a chance to make things right. What I learned is that there are times when trust is so badly broken, it can’t be fixed.”

A heavy silence hangs between us as seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity.

“So what happened?”

I ask softly.

“I ended things with Luca and cut out all my former friends from my life. But I was so broken by everything that had happened, I ended up spiraling. My drinking and my mental state both took a turn for the worse. I hit rock bottom, and thank god Ollie was there because he saved me.”

“How?”

“Booked me into rehab. Best decision I ever made. For the first time in my life, I actually confronted my issues. Like how to deal with unresolved negative feelings toward a dead parent. Or being disappointed with a living one. Or feeling like the world’s biggest loser squandering away all the opportunities I have that so many people would kill for because I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.”

So Clancy was right when he said he sensed that Maverick was lost.

And I was so fucking wrong for assuming he had a perfect, easy life just because he came from money.

“Is that why you bought the sanctuary? For some direction?”

“That was a big part of it. And it’s a nice way to honor all the good memories I have of Grandpa Rick.”

I smile at him.

“I’m sure he’d be proud of you and what you’re doing.”

“I hope so.”

A wistful expression washes over his face, and then his blue eyes sharpen, surveying the towering mound of candy debris spilling from the coffee table to the floor.

“I’ve dumped way too much on you for one night. It’s getting late. We should probably think about…”

His eyes shift toward the hallway.

“Bed?”

I finish for him.

“Sleep.”

He runs his hand over the sofa cushions a couple of times.

“I’ll be fine out here.”

“Why would you sleep out here?”

He turns to me with a why do you think look and an impish grin on his lips.

“Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

I snort.

“I think the sugar is going to your head.”

“Got a better idea?”

“Don’t I always?”

He rolls his eyes, but I ignore it.

“We’re adults. We can sleep together.”

That impish grin is replaced by a wolfish one.

“As in, actually sleep. No funny business.”

He tips his chin up, still grinning.

“No funny business,”

he repeats.

“You want the first shower?”

“Actually, yeah. I stink after work.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

We both smile. “Wait.”

I look down at my work outfit.

“What are we going to do about clothes?”

“Check the bedroom. There are two suitcases in there. They even packed for us.”

“How fucking considerate. Who do you think came up with this?”

I get up off the couch and, after so many hours sitting on my ass, stretch my arms overhead. My vision may be getting worse, but I don’t miss the way Maverick’s head tilts as the hem of my shirt rides up my stomach.

He clears his throat.

“Initial suspicions were aimed squarely at my brother, but the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to see Clancy’s fingerprints all over this. It’s not Wagner’s style to interfere in my life.”

“Whereas my grandfather is Mr. Meddle himself.”

“Hey, use his name,”

Maverick chides playfully.

“Grandfather makes him sound old.”

I shake my head.

“How does he manage to wrap everyone around his little finger like that?”

“It’s the cheeky smile.”

Maverick gets up and walks past me, so close I can see him drop a piece of candy onto his tongue.

“You should try it sometime.”

Not only did Clancy—I’m assuming it’s him—pack two days’ worth of clothes, but he didn’t forget toiletries either. Doesn’t mean I’m not still going to kill him the moment we get back to Silverstone, but his thoughtfulness means I’m inclined to let him choose his preferred method of going out.

I just finished taking a quick shower, not wanting to hog all the hot water, and am brushing my teeth.

Maverick is on my mind.

How can he not be?

We went from an explosive argument to searching for a lost animal, which turned out to be a ruse, to Maverick opening up to me about his family and his sobriety. That’s a lot of emotion in a short space of time.

I thought my family story was bad, but it’s got nothing on his. All the luxury and wealth and privilege in the world can’t make up for not feeling loved by your parents. Mom may have abandoned us, but I have fond memories of watching fireworks with my dad and riding horses under Clancy’s watchful eye. Not to mention always having Verity and Sib in my corner, too.

And I’ve never been much of a drinker either. I’ve overdone it a couple of times, and hangovers just aren’t worth it. I can’t even begin to imagine the strength it takes to confront your addiction and work on it every day the way he is. He’s a lot stronger than I’ve given him credit for.

I finish brushing my teeth and shake my shoulders out. I’m still hopped up from all that sugar. How am I meant to sleep tonight?

Much less, how am I meant to sleep in the same bed as Maverick?

Just noticing him checking me out when I stretched gave me a semi. If I weren’t so concerned about water usage, I would have rubbed one out in the shower. But instead, I’m now faced with sharing a bed with him, with my bulge imprinting the front of my gray sweats.

Great.

A knock on the door jolts me.

“You all right in there, Jackson?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

I quickly wipe up a little, and when I open the door, Maverick is standing there. Shirtless. My gaze drops involuntarily to the contours of his sculpted pecs and sun-kissed torso.

“Don’t mean to rush you, but I need to pee real bad.”

I tear my gaze away from his chest.

“That’s what happens when you consume a week’s worth of sugar in one night.”

He smiles.

“Tell me about it.”

I step away to make room for him.

“I’ll meet you in bed.”

I flinch the second the words leave my mouth.

He strolls past me, so close his candy breath warms my skin as he murmurs.

“I’ll be there soon…honey.”

I spin around to face him.

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

He leans against the bathroom door frame, his bicep swelling next to his face, one eyebrow cocked.

“What, you don’t like honey?”

“I do not.”

A smile rises on his lips.

“What about sugar? Ooh, I know, sweet tits?

“Call me any of those things, and I can’t guarantee you’ll be waking up in the morning.”

He stares at me for a moment, blue eyes sparkling, then laughs—his dimples surfacing—before closing the bathroom door without another word.