Beloved (12 page)

“Hello, Catherine. It’s Mom. I hope all is well.” She pauses and I can almost hear her bristle. Her voice is filled with frustration. “I’ve tried to call you about ten times now, but I guess you’re ignoring me again. I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.” She lets out a deep sigh and goes on, softer now. “I got a letter from a lawyer. They sent notice that your presence is required next week at their office. They need you to—” Another long pause. “—settle your father’s estate. He passed away a week ago.” She sounds sad, and I can hear her taking short breaths as if she’s crying. “You were listed as his beneficiary and this was your last known address. I’m so sorry, sweetie. Please call me. I love you.” The line goes dead.

I drop the phone in my lap. The emotions swarming inside of me are jumbled, all over the place. I haven’t spoken to my father in almost twenty years. I don’t know why I feel sad. I hate him. He walked away. He deserted me—never called, never cared—so why do I feel like I’m going to cry? What do I do now? I’m supposed to go through his affairs, settle his estate—I don’t even know where the hell he’s lived all this time. I drop my head in my hands and struggle to catch my breath. I’m so angry. I moved on. I forgot about him. I got over the fact that I wouldn’t have someone to walk me down the aisle or dance with me at my wedding. I don’t need him or want any part of him, so why do I feel such utter despair? The tightness in my chest has me gasping for air, shaking. I roll down the window frantically—I need air.

Jackson places his hand on my arm and I snap my head up. I kind of forgot about him there beside me. He’s staring at me. He squeezes my arm and his eyes soften as if he can sense my panic. “Are you okay?” His voice is concerned.

I shake my head subtly up and down. I don’t think I can speak. I avert my eyes, looking at my hands grasped tightly in my lap.

“Catherine,” he says softly, looking alarmed by whatever emotions are showing on my face. He reaches for my hand and places his gently over mine. I can’t look at him. I need to keep it together. I should have never listened to that damn voicemail. Who tells someone their parent died on a voicemail? Another way my mother and her selfish ways come to light. She could’ve called again, could’ve called Taylor—anything other than leave a voicemail.

I need to explain this to him. I have to say something. I look over and whisper, “My father died.”

His eyes widen in shock before changing to sympathy. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and his sincerity breaks my carefully constructed wall.

“It’s fine. I mean, we weren’t close. I just—” My chin begins to tremble. I can’t speak anymore.

My heart is aching. All these years, all this time—it’s all over and I’ll never get the answers I so desperately needed. Why did he really leave me? Tears blur my vision. I close my eyes and try to hang on to the anger I had moments ago.

Jackson must sense I’m about to fall apart because he leans in, puts his arm around me, and pulls me to his side. I try to resist, but he’s stronger and grips tighter. Not wanting to fight him, I give in, allowing myself this one moment to accept the comfort he’s offering. His warmth cocoons me as I curl into his chest and slip my arm around his stomach. He holds me so snug, keeping me together while my mind spins. He does nothing to move me, just tenderly strokes the side of my arm. My heart is pounding and my breathing is shallow, both from the whirlwind of emotions and his closeness. I start to pull away, trying to put some distance between us, but Jackson refuses to relax his hold on me. I have to admit I feel so small and safe in his embrace. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in his touch. I want to cry, but the tears won’t come. I focus on the steady sound of his heartbeat. So sure, so strong. The thrumming anchors me and keeps me from falling apart. We stay like this the rest of the car ride, neither of us speaking as I try to understand the numbness I’m feeling.

When we arrive at the airport, Jackson shifts slightly and I sit up. I look out the window and realize we’re at Teterboro, which means we’re flying on a private jet. I turn to look at Jackson, confused and embarrassed, when he puts his hand on my cheek, softly cradling it. “Are you going to be okay? We can cancel the trip if you need to.”

“No!” I say loudly and he startles, dropping his hand from my face.

“I’m serious. You need to deal with—” His brows draw together before he runs his hands down his face.

“No, it’s fine.” I don’t want to deal with any of it. I’m not going to run to take care of a man who never cared enough to take care of me. I take a deep breath and move my hand, placing it tentatively on his. “Please, I don’t want to reschedule the trip. I promise, I’m really okay.”

He stays quiet for a minute. I’m praying he believes me. Jackson pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He blows out a long breath, exits the car, and walks over to speak to the driver. My heart can’t take this pain. I hang my head, creating a veil with my dark brown hair so he can’t see me falling apart. I need this trip. I want to escape and not go back and have to deal with my dead father who abandoned me. I put him and all the shit he did to me in a box—then I took his box and shoved it away. I have no desire to dust it off and open it again.

I hear my car door open and look up. Jackson is standing there, hand extended, with a sad smile on his face. He tilts his head toward the runway and says, “Come on, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

I place my hand in his and allow him to help me from the car. “Thank you, Jackson.” My eyes are soft and my voice is full of emotion. I remove my hand after giving his a small squeeze and head toward the trunk to collect my bag. Jackson walks silently behind me. I’ve probably scared him with my almost breakdown.

We both reach for my bag’s handle at the same time. I giggle as he swats my hand away. I look over at him. His eyes are bright and glossy and his mouth is in a half grin. “I love your laugh.”

The way he says it makes my heart feel lighter. “Thanks,” I murmur and look away.

Jackson clears his throat and says, “Now, let’s head to Virginia.” His smile grows as he tilts his head to the side. “You know where that is, right?” He winks and grabs my bag. There’s the smug bastard I know.

“Yes, I knew where it was before too.” I smile, thankful for the change in topic.

“Sure you did.”

“You know I have a master’s degree, right? I’m pretty sure I had a class or two where we discussed the fifty states.” I huff, pretending to be irritated with him. In reality, I’m silently awed by how quickly he brought me back.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you were confused the first time.”

“Gah!” I throw my hands up in mock frustration.

Jackson stops at the bottom steps of the plane, shifting his weight back and forth. My eyes dart between the contemplative look on his face and the plane—I hope he’s not going to cancel. As if sensing my distress, he places both hands on my shoulders and waits for me to look at him. Our eyes meet and I can’t look away. My breathing stops. My heart accelerates. His eyes are clouded with emotion. For me? For my loss? I can’t tell. He looks sad, and it rocks me to my core. Slowly, he pulls me toward him and wraps his arms around me. I return his embrace as he rubs my back. We stand there in each other’s arms, giving and receiving comfort from one another. My news was unexpected and so was Jackson’s response, but I don’t mind it.

I clear my throat and I swear I feel Jackson kiss the top of my head, but it’s so light I can’t be sure. We break apart and I smile. He reaches for my face but drops his hand before touching me, frowning as his eyes empty of all the emotion present just seconds before. Without a word, he turns and ascends the stairs to the plane. I take a deep breath and follow, praying I can keep it together and remain professional. The lines are blurring, so I need to redraw them and stay on the appropriate side.

The plane is breathtaking. It has plush leather seats and a couch against the right wall. There’s a wet bar at the back wall and another room in the rear of the plane. I’m assuming it’s an office or a bedroom, but I have no intention of finding out. The décor is beautiful. Done in cream and a rich blue, it’s striking and regal. Very fitting for the man I’m traveling with.

Jackson walks forward from the bar area looking calm and collected. He’s back to being professional. “Make yourself comfortable. It’s only about a two-hour flight.”

“Is this your plane?” I ask, still looking around the cabin as I sit in one of the captain chairs.

“Yes, I fly back and forth from New York to Virginia a lot. Purchasing a company jet made sense.” He looks at the seat across the aisle and then turns and sits in the seat next to me. Why does he insist on sitting so damn close?

“Oh, I didn’t know you visited the facility that much.”

He looks up, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t. Well, I didn’t. I have a second company, which is why I spent a lot of time in Virginia. Plus, I was stationed there when I was on active duty, so I get to visit the team when I’m there.”

“You served?” I never would have thought he was prior military. He looks so young. Finding out he owns a second company throws me as well.

Jackson straightens in his seat and lifts his head, his eyes locking on mine. One side of his mouth lifts revealing that adorable dimple. When he speaks, his voice is laced with pride. “Yes, I served eight years in the Navy.”

I smile at this remarkable man, who’s accomplished so much, and realize I know nothing about him. I guess this explains the hero complex. A small giggle escapes me, and I slap my hand over my mouth.
Crap!

He looks at me with amusement. “Why is that funny?”

I smile. “It’s not. I’m just laughing at how you seem to like to save people.” Great, now I sound stupid.

He lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, well there’s a lot about me you don’t know.” He nudges my arm.

I smirk and shake my head at him. Out of nowhere the plane jerks and I freeze. A sudden burst of anxiety hits me and I grab the arms of the chair, white-knuckling it. He notices, of course, and places a hand on my arm. “Are you afraid of flying?” he asks. His sultry voice does nothing for my nerves.

“N-No,” I barely get the word out. My hands are sweating and my heart is pounding as he removes his hand. I’ve flown hundreds of times. I don’t mind it at all, but I’ve never flown on a private plane. Or flown next to a man who seems to affect me so much.

He leans closer. His clean soap and cologne smell is so hypnotic, I can’t stop myself from taking a deep breath. The heat from his body is everywhere, and he’s not even touching me. “Don’t worry, Catherine, you’re safe with me. Just close your eyes.”

I glance at him as the plane begins to move again. “I’ll be fine. I’m being silly.” How many more ways am I going to embarrass myself with this man?

“Relax and close your eyes,” he says softly but with an air of authority.

“When did you get so bossy?” I close my eyes and smile, hearing a rustling before I sense him shifting closer.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replies, humor dancing in his voice. “Now, stop talking and just breathe.”

I take a deep breath and start to sing to myself. My father used to sing this song to me at night whenever I had bad dreams. The lyrics soothed me. Throughout my life, I’ve always sung that song when I needed strength, even though it was associated with him. Now is no different. My father’s voice, singing about me being his one and only sunshine, echoes through my ears and floods my mind. If only it’d been true.

I repeat the song over and over as Jackson’s fingers graze my arm. Abruptly, the contact I’d been enjoying vanishes. I shiver from the loss, terrified to open my eyes. What if I’m alone again?

“You’re safe now.” His warm voice blankets over me.

I’m far from safe, but somehow during that brief moment we managed to become airborne and I didn’t even notice. My lids are heavy, so I relax into my seat and think about my morning with Jackson. Within a matter of minutes he put me at ease. He cared for me when he saw my distress. How easy it would be to fall for him. To give myself to someone who looks out for others before himself. But at what cost to my heart? Somewhere before unconsciousness I realize—it’s not the plane I should be afraid of, it’s the man next to me.