Hope for Him (Hope Series Book #2) (2 page)

"Or someone who knows who they are and doesn't care." My mom offered her two cents. 

"He's like the one hundredth wealthiest man in the United States; that's not going to be easy," Dad said.

"What about Mark? You liked him, and he's in Florida. You're going to need someone in Florida," David said.

Mark was David's law school classmate and the one who gave me advice when Jack was born.

"Okay."

"What if Mr. Griffin wants to see Jack?" Jackson asked.

My heart sank and I found it hard to breathe. I pictured my little boy seated at the long dining room table in the Griffin mansion in Orlando. Mr. Griffin sitting at the other end, barking orders at the servants and teaching my son the finer points on being an asshole.

"No."

"He's going to want to see him. I mean if he doesn't get to see him, what's in it for him?"

I bit my lip and blinked back the tears forming in my eyes. Jackson grabbed my hand and held it. He smiled up at me and my mind calmed. 

"You control it. When, where, and demand you’re always with him," Jackson said.

"You've been around him in the last year? Has he changed?"

"He's more ... humble. For lack of a better term."

"Humble." I rolled the word around in my head for a minute.

"I saw Erin a couple of weeks ago. She moved to New York.  And I told you what Amanda is up to."

I felt guilty every time I thought of Josh's sisters. Josh's death had led them to make serious life changes. Amanda divorced her sadistic and philandering husband, and Erin quit working for her father and moved to New York City. 

I wanted to reach out to them and apologize, but I had yet to work up the nerve to do so.

Everything I knew about the Griffins ended in tragedy. Mr. Griffin was the trigger for most of their tragedies, but the number he played on his only son was the biggest tragedy of them all.

The idea of inviting Mr. Griffin into my life, no matter how humble he had become, was a bad idea.

I laid my head in my hands on the table, defeated, because I knew what I needed to do. 

"I guess I'll tell him okay when he comes back for the party."

I lifted my head and blank expressions stared back at me. 

"You invited him to the party?" Mom asked.

"Well, I figured if I was going to let him get to know his grandson, I might as well start now."

#

J
ack passed out thirty minutes after the cake.

Mr. Griffin remained quiet and withdrawn during the party, his posture rigid and stiff. Little Jack made him feel welcome because he didn't know any better. Everyone else, including Jackson, appeared uneasy around him.

Before he left, he pulled me aside.

"You thought about my offer?"

"It's all I've thought about."

"Well?" He stood with his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

"Can you give me a few days to get my mind around it? I'm going to say yes." A smile spread across his lips. He removed his hands from his pockets and held his hands out. I took a step back. I placed my hand up in front of me. "But let me figure this out on my own, okay?"

"Okay," he said. 

Jackson and I were finally alone. I wanted to spend time with him before he headed back to school.

"You mind giving me a ride back to the hotel?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." I hid the disappointment in my voice. We headed out to my car, and Jackson opened the car door for me and I slid in the driver’s seat.

I tried to drive slow, take the long route, but the four-mile trip took ten minutes. I pulled up in front, past the main entrance, and put the car in park. We sat a few minutes listening to a song on the radio. Jackson’s deep laugh caught me off guard.

"What's so funny?"

"You know the first time I heard this song, you were grinding on Randolph."

"Oh my God, it is so weird you remember that." Randolph was the president of Jackson’s fraternity and in an attempt to lick my wounds from being dismissed by both Jackson and Josh that night, I turned to a few of his fraternity brothers for comfort. Not my proudest moment.

"I tend to remember stuff that piss me off." He turned to face me. "Why don't you come in for a while?" 

I raised my head and caught the sun as it reflected off the glint in his blue eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up and a lump formed in my throat. I swallowed and took a breath.

"Okay."

I parked the car in the nearest spot, and we walked into the hotel and found the bar in the back of the lobby.

Jackson’s flight took off in twelve hours. What could we do in those twelve hours?  He was in the middle of exams, but I hoped he didn't have to study.

The dim lit bar had several intimate seating areas with loveseats facing a tall rectangle coffee table. A dark wood antique hourglass sat in the middle of each table.

"Are we on a time limit?" Jackson asked the waitress as we sat down and took the menu.

The waitress giggled at Jackson's joke a little too hard. "No, it's the theme of the place. Welcome to the Time Keeper’s Saloon." She flashed a million watt smile at Jackson. I turned to give him my
don't flirt with other girls in my presence
look, but he had his head down trying to read the menu in the dim light. I smiled and scooted closer to him on the couch.

"I'll be back in a minute to take your order," the waitress said.

I admired Jackson's hair. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through it. I enjoyed his clean cut cropped hair during the season, but the wavy curls were more relaxed and so sexy. His square jaw made him appear serious, but when he smiled at you, you felt like you could tell him anything. He had the most sincere, deep blue eyes, and I wanted to get lost in them.

"What are you drinking?" Jackson asked, his face inches from mine. He stared in my eyes and licked his lips, and I decided to go for it. I leaned in and kissed him. Light and quick contact, but oh, so sweet. I wasn't sure our lips had touched except for the fact I lost all feeling in every part of my body except for the nerve ending on my lips. My senses concentrated on where his lips met mine.

Jackson pulled back and cocked his head as if he had something to say. I panicked for a moment. Perhaps I overstepped my bounds. I waited for him to tell me to slow down. I waited for the ball to drop, for him to tell me he didn't like me like that anymore.

He said nothing, but he leaned in and answered my kiss with a soft, but firm, kiss of his own.

Oh wow, his lips feel good.

I had waited a long time for this kiss, and it exceeded expectations.

I loved it when the reality surpassed the fantasy.

"What can I get you two?" Our waitress had returned and Jackson pulled away. I cut my eyes at her and opened my mouth to go off on her for interrupting, when Jackson placed a hand on my thigh and squeezed it. My mind went blank as I fixated on the flex in his fingers.

"What do you want?" he asked. I smiled and turned toward the waitress.

"Club soda with lime."

"I'll have a Bud Light," Jackson said.

The waitress looked from Jackson to me and back to Jackson. She let out a frustrated sigh, turned, and left. I didn't care. Jackson's hand on my thigh consumed my thoughts, and I couldn't wait for his lips to return to mine.

My body temperature increased as his dark blue eyes bore into me, but I dropped my eyes, unable to hold his gaze and not feel the urge to do something stupid.

We skirted around this issue for a year. We both had the same idea. If we discuss our initial attraction and how we were so close to being together, none of the bad stuff would have happened, but little Jack wouldn't have happened, either.

I went over the scenario in my head.  If after we had first met at the library at FSU, he hadn’t left, and instead, we spent the rest of the night talking. When he asked me out, it would have been a clear invitation and not a group text invite to a fraternity party.

But what ifs would be disrespectful to the dead. What ifs would result in little Jack never being born and well, the idea of my life without him broke my heart. 

"What's wrong?"

I licked my lips.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Me, too." His hand left my thigh but grabbed my hand. He laced his fingers with mine and brought the back of my hand to his lips. I watched him with narrow eyes.

"What?"

"I was wondering ... when did we decide to become friends who kissed?" I asked.

"Not because I didn't want to."

"I know, but ... all of a sudden, you're attracted to me."

"No, I've always been attracted to you. I've used incredible restraint in the past."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah," Jackson whispered as he leaned in and kissed me again. It felt so good and so natural, like we were meant to kiss each other.

When we came up for air, our drinks sat on the table. I didn't hear the waitress when she left them. Jackson and I were in our own little world, and as far as I was concerned, it has been a long time coming.

I took a sip of my club soda, and it gave me the second I needed to think. What was happening here? I tried to think of a logical reason not to do this. Tons of excuses ran through my brain. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. We lived too far away from each other. All the logical reasons seemed to have gone out my mind, as well as my common sense, when it came to imagining what it would be like to be with Jackson.

With the way Jackson looked at me and the way he touched me, I wouldn't have to wonder much longer.

"I really want to say this without sounding like a mushy romance novel," I said.

Jackson laughed and pushed a strain of hair behind my ear.

"What?"

"I want you."

"So, we are moving from friends who kiss to friends who f—"

I kissed him to prevent him from finishing that sentence. Although his crude talk made my insides ignite.

"I want you, too," Jackson said with a wink, and we both giggled.

In those same cheesy romance novels, the next scene would have Jackson scooping me up in his arms and whisking me away while covering my face with kisses.

Not so in real life. Well, not my life anyway.

I grabbed his hand, and we headed to his room. We entered the elevator, along with an older couple. They complained about the price of dinner as the elevator stopped at every other floor. Jackson made a face, and I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 

We made to it his hotel room door, but the key wouldn’t work. He tried like five times, each time getting more frustrated. I took the key out of his hands and tried once, it opened.

I waved the key as if fanning myself and Jackson snatched it out of my hand, pulled me to him and pushed me into the room.

While the room with its huge bed and Asian themed décor was nice, the balcony drew my attention. I had a thing for balconies.

I stepped onto it and Jackson followed. He stood behind me but didn't touch me. I could feel the heat emanating from his body. I reached back and grabbed his right hand and wrapped it around me. I leaned against his chest and nothing seemed funny anymore. It all got real serious, real quick.

"God, I love this." He wrapped his other arm around my waist and held me tight. "Being with you is so easy. No worries, no pressure. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." My voice cracked, and my eyes watered. Jackson turned me around and touched my cheek, leaning in and kissing me soft on the lips. He stepped forward, and I felt the balcony wall on the back of my legs.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. I got my chance to run my fingers through his hair. I tightened my grip around his neck when Jackson lifted me up.

I stopped kissing him. He had me on the edge, literally and figuratively.

I turned my head, but he grabbed my chin and turned it back to face him.

"Hey, don't worry. I got you," he said.

"You always have."

"I always will."

I lowered my head, but Jackson raised my chin. His hand swept down the side of my face. He kissed me harder this time. His hands moved from my face down my sides. His lips laid a trail of kisses from my lips to my cheek and down my jawline to my neck.

While working on my neck, his hands worked their way to my ass. I had a fleeting giggle thinking about Jackson touching my ass, but it was short lived.

He raised his head and dove onto my lips, giving me everything they had to offer. 

A moan escaped my lips. My body had its own involuntary response and I waited to see what it would do next. I pulled him closer, and he lifted me up and walked me back inside and laid me on the bed.

Instead of laying on me, he shifted to my side. I whimpered in disappointment. I wanted to feel his weight on me.

I shifted to my side and stared at him. Jackson stood six-foot-four, and at five-foot-seven, we stood eye-to-eye one time before, when I ran into him on the stairs at the frat house. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. They made my head swim.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. 

"What are we doing?" I asked. I played coy, but it didn't fit me anymore.

I lowered my head, but he grabbed my chin and lifted it so he could stare into my eyes.

"I want this. Don't you?" I asked.

"Yeah, but ... you know." He hesitated. "It doesn't have to mean anything.” He leaned into me, "Or it could mean everything," Jackson whispered as he brushed his lips against my shoulder.

My heart stopped, and I had to remind myself to take a breath.

Am I ready for this to mean something?

My mouth went dry and a fluttery feeling started in the pit of my stomach. I giggled and rolled away from him.

"Okay, maybe this isn't such a good idea,” I said.

He grabbed me around my waist and pulled me to him.

"Now, let's not be too hasty."

My nervousness went away with one well-placed kiss by Jackson below my left ear. My laugh turned into a moan. My anxiety turned to lust without much effort when Jackson’s big strong hands found their way under my shirt.