Page 4 of Noah (Pecan Pines #4)

Chapter 4

Jackson/ Noah

JACKSON

The next morning, I slid into the car, keeping my expression neutral as my father followed suit, settling into the seat with his usual commanding presence.

Hudson was already in the back, arms crossed, glaring out the window.

I had hoped for a quiet ride, time to gather my thoughts before the summit, but that hope was dashed the moment our father insisted on Hudson and me riding together.

The pressure in the car was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

I leaned my head against the window, willing myself to tune out Hudson and our father.

"When I heard about what happened last night, I thought I would need to clean up after you—the two of you again," our father said, the words sharp and loaded.

He corrected himself at the last moment, but it didn’t matter. We both caught the implication.

Hudson stiffened beside me, his jaw clenched tight, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the seat. The correction was subtle, but the message was loud and clear.

I could feel Hudson’s anger radiating off him in waves, his breathing shallow, his temper on the brink of boiling over.

"You don’t have to clean up after us," Hudson snapped, his voice low but edged with defiance. "We handled it."

Our father’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp. "Handled it? Is that what you call it? You let them walk into our territory and provoke you. They walked out unscathed, and you think that’s handling it?"

Hudson’s fists tightened. "We didn’t escalate. That’s what matters."

"You shouldn’t have let it get to that point in the first place," our father retorted. "You need to think before you act. Both of you."

I tuned out the back-and-forth, letting my mind drift. The scenery blurred past as I found myself thinking about something, someone else entirely.

It had been years, but I could still remember the boy, a wolf from a different pack.

Noah.

I could still picture him as he had been back then, thoughtful and kind, with a smile that seemed to light up the room.

There had been something about him, something that made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t before.

It felt like another lifetime ago since we last met, last spoke, but I could still remember Noah’s smile, how it felt to be around him.

He was like a bright ray of sunshine, someone the world seemed to orbit around. I had never felt that way with anyone else before or since.

But Adrian had been there too, back in those days. The thought of him soured my mood.

Knowing Adrian, he would probably stir up trouble at Pecan Pines, the territory where Noah lived.

It had been under the thumb of Ryder, a vicious alpha, for years. Ryder had isolated the pack from everyone else, but now it was under a different alpha.

Still, despite all these shifting dynamics, my thoughts remained centered on that boy who felt like the sun.

Noah would be all grown up by now. Did he retain that same kindness, that same thoughtfulness? Or had time and hardship changed him?

"Jackson!" Hudson waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my reverie. "We’re here. Stop daydreaming."

I blinked, realizing we had entered the town of Pecan Pines.

The narrow road was flanked on either side by towering pine and cedar trees, the scent of the forest filling the air as we approached the gated compound of the Pecan Pines pack lands.

"Hudson’s right, Jackson," our father said, his voice cutting through the quiet tension.

He continued, “All of us need to have our guard up. The Pecan Pines representative assured us that Cooper, their new alpha, is the exact opposite of Ryder, but I want to see this alpha with my own eyes. I don’t need to remind you two and your brothers to be on your best behavior."

Hudson gritted his teeth but didn’t argue.

I knew our father had many things on his mind, the weight of leadership and the constant threat of conflict looming over us.

Still, none of us were children anymore, and sometimes he seemed to forget that.

"Of course, father," I said, my voice steady.

Finally, the car came to a stop. The moment I stepped out, a sweet, familiar scent wrapped around me, pulling me in like a siren’s call.

My wolf stirred, standing at attention, a low, eager hum vibrating through my entire being.

That scent. It was unmistakable, wrapping around me like a forgotten melody suddenly remembered.

I knew it, deep in my bones, a primal recognition that sent a shiver down my spine.

My gaze swept the area, heart pounding, until it landed on a golden-haired wolf with those same inquisitive green eyes.

Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The years, the distance—it all melted into nothing as I took him in.

He had changed, of course; the boy I once knew had grown into a man.

His shoulders were broader, his stance more confident, but the warmth in his eyes, that gentle curiosity, was unchanged.

Noah’s eyes met mine, and for a heartbeat, the world stilled.

His gaze was just as warm, just as captivating as I remembered, and yet there was something more now, something that sent a rush of heat through me.

Shock rippled through my chest. How could it be him?

After all these years, after everything, how could it still feel so immediate, so overwhelming?

I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed him until this moment, standing mere feet apart, the space between us charged with unspoken words and memories.

The connection between us, dormant for so long, flared back to life in an instant.

The attraction was undeniable, a pull that I felt in every fiber of my being.

My wolf pressed closer, eager, and I could feel the echo of his emotions intertwining with mine—desire, curiosity, and something deeper, more profound.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the summit, not the tensions between our packs, not even the looming presence of my family.

It was just Noah and me, two wolves whose paths had crossed once more, against all odds.

NOAH

A static crackle from the walkie-talkie clipped to Cooper’s belt broke the tense silence in the room.

“Silvercrest pack arriving soon, sir,” came the security guard’s voice.

Cooper straightened and turned to me. “Come with me.”

I pushed up from my seat, my legs feeling heavier than they should, falling into step beside him.

The call meant they’d just entered pack lands and would be here within minutes.

I tried to focus on my steps, running through my role as the Silvercrest pack liaison: Greet the pack, offer refreshments, lead them to their lodgings, hand over the summit schedule. That was it for the day.

Professional. Straightforward. Quick.

Jackson might not even be in the car. It could just be his father and a few enforcers.

Maybe I wouldn’t see him at all. Maybe he wasn’t even coming.

The thought should’ve calmed me. It didn’t.

“They’re pretty early, huh?” I said, breaking the silence. My voice came out tighter than I’d intended.

Cooper glanced at me. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. I thought they’d arrive later this afternoon too.” He let out a soft chuckle, more to himself than to me. “But knowing that old wolf, I’m not surprised.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.

Robert Parker. Jackson’s father. His name alone carried enough weight to command respect—or fear, depending on who you asked.

Strict but fair. A traditionalist. He valued discipline and loyalty above all else, and he expected nothing less from everyone around him.

Even now, I could still remember the look on his face that night at the Thornebane summit—when Adrian, Jackson, and I had been dragged back after the incident.

The cold disappointment in his eyes had sent a chill straight through me, one that hadn’t entirely left after all these years.

“Don’t tell anyone I said that,” Cooper added, pulling me from my thoughts.

I caught the faint twitch of his hand—a rare nervous gesture from someone usually so composed.

“I won’t,” I assured him, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

We reached the front of the pack house just as a car pulled up. It was an older-model SUV, a Chevy Suburban—matte black and built like a tank. Exactly the kind of vehicle you’d expect someone like Robert Parker to drive.

The engine cut off, and the doors opened.

Even before I saw his face, I already knew it was him. The way he moved, the confidence in his stride—it was unmistakably Jackson stepping out of the passenger seat.

Everything I thought I’d buried came rushing back. His laugh—low and warm, with a way of chasing away shadows like it was second nature. The way he’d tilt his head when he looked at me, like he was trying to piece together a secret only I knew.

And then there he was.

The sunlight caught his eyes—pale blue with flecks that I knew would glint like silver in just the right light. His smile hadn’t changed—easy, genuine, like he wasn’t standing on the edge of more than ten years of silence.

“Noah,” he said, his voice soft yet firm.

My breath caught. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t tell if I’d said anything. His name, maybe. Or nothing at all.

All I knew was that my feet were moving, pulling me toward him, and every carefully rehearsed responsibility slipped further from my mind with each step.

Cooper’s hand extended as Robert Parker approached, breaking the moment. “Alpha Parker,” Cooper greeted, his tone formal and steady.

“Please, call me Robert,” came the older man’s gruff yet polite reply.

Reality hit me like a splash of cold water. My steps faltered, and I stopped short.

The warnings about this summit—the weight of its importance—all came flooding back. I took a small step back, slipping behind Cooper as if that slight distance could shield me from Jackson’s piercing gaze.

The moment stretched in awkward silence before I remembered myself. Straightening, I subtly gestured toward Hudson, who had finally caught up with the group.

“This is Hud—” I began, ready to introduce him as the next in line to lead the Silvercrest Pack.

But Cooper’s focus had already shifted. His hand extended—but not toward Hudson.

“Jackson. It’s an honor to have you here,” Cooper said, his tone warm and welcoming.

I froze mid-gesture, my hand still outstretched toward Hudson.

The silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible. Cooper didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he did, judging by the quick glance he shot me before turning back to Jackson.

If he felt any embarrassment, he covered it well, smoothly turning to Hudson next and shaking his hand as if nothing had happened.

I tried to salvage the situation, stepping forward with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about?—”

Robert’s booming laughter cut me off. The sound was loud enough to draw glances from the others nearby.

Clapping Cooper firmly on the shoulder, he grinned. “You’ve got a good eye! Come, walk with me.”

Cooper, ever the diplomat, returned the smile politely and nodded. “Of course.”

Without a second glance, he followed Robert, leaving me standing there with a metaphorical bomb in my hands.

If Cooper weren’t the pack alpha, I might’ve thrown my clipboard at his head.

But he was, so I did the next best thing: straightened my shirt, squared my shoulders, and faced the Parker brothers.

Hudson’s jaw was tight, his expression stoic but unmistakably tense. I forced a smile, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Hudson,” I said, stepping forward. “I don’t know if you remember me.”

His eyes flicked over me briefly before he gave a curt grunt, shook my hand firmly, and brushed past without another word.

That left me alone with Jackson.

I hesitated, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but take a closer look at him.

The way his shirt clung to his chest, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the veins in his forearms.

His hair caught the sunlight, just a little longer than I remembered, and the faint stubble along his jawline only added to the effortless charm he seemed to carry.

Heat prickled at the back of my neck, and for some reason, Cooper’s earlier warning echoed in my mind: No entanglements beyond what’s strictly professional.

I paused for a beat, breathing in sharply as if to clear the air, but the thought wouldn’t leave.

It hit me all over again, unhelpfully vivid.

I mentally shook the thoughts away and muttered, “C’mon.”

We were halfway to the pack house when I felt it. A familiar hand in my hair, a quick, easy ruffle, just like he used to do...

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Jackson said with a soft chuckle.

The sound of his laugh made my heart skip a beat, and I hated how much I liked it.