Page 37 of Just One Look
Jackson
“I wish I could see her little fingers,”
I coo, holding my precious niece in my arms, her tiny hand barely wrapping around my single finger. I insisted on sitting on the floor, petrified she might fall out of my arms if I were standing.
“I wish I could see her.”
All I can make out is a dim shimmer of movement as she waves her little hand in the air.
“She’s so beautiful, Jaxi,”
Sib says, nestled beside me on the carpet of her living room.
“She’s got Clancy’s green eyes and your black hair.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Rosy-red cheeks like Verity had when she was a baby. Tim’s nose, unfortunately. My mouth.”
“The poor kid.”
She lets out an amused scoff.
“The world needs more girls with big mouths.”
“True,”
I concede with a grin, carefully handing the cuddly bundle back to her mama.
The entire family is gathered at Sib and Tim’s place, celebrating the arrival of the latest addition to our family. Evelyn Charlotte McKeown, six and a half pounds of pure baby perfection.
I graze my nose over her slightly furry head, loving that she’s got the same hair color I do, and inhale deeply.
“Man, I love new baby smell. Someone should bottle it.”
A few seconds later, my nose twitches, and I reel back.
“Ew. What’s that smell?”
“That’s the real baby smell,”
Sib says.
“And trust me, no one wants to bottle that.”
Everyone laughs as Sibella and Tim excuse themselves to change Evie in the nursery.
“It sure has been an eventful few days, hasn’t it?”
Clancy says.
“First this little one, and now the rescue center talent show fundraiser tonight. Everyone is talking about it.”
“Who’s everyone?”
Verity asks.
“There are posters for it all over town. Maverick has done a terrific job promoting it. I hear it’s sold out. Good thing I nabbed an extra ticket.”
That’s directed at me.
“Too bad I’m not going.”
I point at my eyes.
“You know…”
“Don’t think I’ll let you get out of it that easily, boy. It’s a talent show. I’m sure there will be at least several musical acts, perhaps even a few people singing.”
Groaning, I say.
“I’ve heard the Silverstone Sleigh Bells holiday carolers plenty of times. Trust me, I won’t be missing out on much.”
“I love the Silverstone Sleigh Bells holiday carolers,”
Chris protests.
“That’s because you love everything to do with Christmas,”
Verity says in unison as I mutter.
“That’s because you have terrible taste.”
Clancy ignores all of us.
“It’s raising money for the sanctuary, Jackson,”
he asserts, proving emotional manipulation is not beneath him.
He’s been hounding me about this for days. I thought people mellowed out in their old age. Not him.
I shrug. “So?”
“I heard Sammy will be performing a number.”
“How do you know that?”
“Maverick told me.”
“When?”
“When he texted to pass on his congratulations to the new parents. And you know, one thing led to another.”
One thing led to another, my ass. Clancy’s up to his usual tricks and is meddling again.
“I’ll think about it. But no promises.”
He doesn’t need to know I’ve already decided to go to support Pip, even though he still hasn’t told me what his secret talent is. I’ve badgered him incessantly about it and can rule out singing, magic tricks, stand-up comedy, and ventriloquism—thankfully.
The only downside is that it means I could cross paths with Maverick. I’ve only just recovered from our surprise run-in at the hospital. Even though it was cut short by Evie’s arrival, I hated hearing the sadness in his voice. Sadness that I caused. Not being able to see his face somehow only made it even worse.
But I have to hold firm.
I’m down to my last few weeks, possibly days, of having any vision left at all, and I refuse to drag Maverick down with my sinking ship.
It’s for the best.
And maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll start to believe it myself.
After spending another hour oohing and ahhing over Evie, we say our goodbyes and leave the new family to enjoy some peaceful time together.
Clancy drops me off at his place.
“You’re not coming in?”
I ask when he keeps the engine running.
“No. I said I’d give Maverick a hand.”
“With what?”
He clears his throat.
“With the event. There’s a lot of things to organize.”
Clancy has a subconscious habit of clearing his throat when he lies.
“Never knew you’re a qualified event planner.”
“That’s enough out of you. I’ll be back in a few hours, and Pip and I are taking you out to an early dinner.”
“First I’m hearing about this.”
“He and I texted just before while we were at Sibella and Tim’s.”
“I think I need to confiscate your phone. You’re way too dangerous with that thing.”
His hearty laugh echoes around me.
“If only you knew. I’ll see you in a few hours. Do you need a hand to get inside?”
“No. I’m okay. Thanks.”
And with that, I get out of the car and go in. When I hear a car pull up out front a few minutes later, I assume Clancy has forgotten something for his totally non-meddling mission with Maverick.
My breath hitches the moment I hear the voice on the other side of the front door.
“Jackson, let me in. I know you’re in there.”
“Fuck off, Ridge.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”
“Motherfucker,”
I mutter under my breath. The last person I want to waste what little vision I have left is him.
“I’ll yell through the door if I have to.”
“Suit yourself. I’m going to take a shit, so you’ll be wasting your breath.”
Silence.
Maybe it worked?
I inch toward the door, waiting to hear him walk away.
He doesn’t.
He exhales loudly, and then the motherfucker drops the bombshell of the century.