Queen of Hearts (2 page)

My first day at the diner, when Jackson handed me that little red T-shirt and the white apron to match, it was game on. Janie was a waitress, and she was going to be the best.

~~***~~

“D
o you mind locking up the diner tonight?”

I peeled my eyes away from the television and smiled over at Jackson. I watched carefully as he hiked his jeans over his thighs and admired the view of his ass in his boxers.

“No problem. Should I go over now?”

Shaking his head, he pulled his shirt on and then leaned over to kiss me on the top of the head. “Nah. They’ll be fine for now. Dinner is almost over, and it’ll take them about an hour to clean up. Head over around eleven.”

I nodded and watched as he pulled a single key off his key ring and tossed it on the tiny tabletop near the window.

“I’ll see you around midnight.”

I gave him a wiggle of my fingers and eyeballed the silver key.
Trust.
He trusted me, someone that was pretty much a perfect stranger, with everything he had. It gutted me. He deserved better than some emotionally battered old hooker. He deserved someone that could love him and give him what he really needed—commitment. I couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.

Trust. It was something so foreign and indistinguishable to me. I was pretty sure no one had ever trusted me, and with good reason. I was a chiseler and a shyster. I was the worst kind of woman, and I’d swept into the poor guy’s life like a serpent at a feast.

I was disgusted.

But that trust... I trusted him, too. Completely. I knew down deep in my soul that Jackson would never betray me. He’d never lie, and he’d never deliberately hurt me. He was different. I’d never had cause to trust someone so totally without caution. Not even Flynn. Even as I told him I loved him, I had that nagging sensation in the back of my heart that I should run... flee... get the fuck out.

And boy, was I right on the ball.

So, yeah. It scared me.

There was nothing shady about Jackson. He didn’t have a damn bad bone in his body. He was pure and true and looked at me like I was a diamond he’d combed the planet to find.

I was a monster.

“Pretty heads are thinking too hard.”

My body shook as I looked up to find him standing in the doorway, a small, sad smile on his face.

I blinked, giving my head a little shake, and crawled off the bed to walk over to him. It scared me how well he knew me sometimes.

It was something I’d never get used to.

“Are you sure you have to go?”

I wasn’t sure where the needy behavior was coming from, but that damn key shook something up inside of me. There was this intense war stirring inside me. Decisions I didn’t want to deal with were looming, and I wanted to ignore all of it.

“Honey, you should come with me. I told you it was no big deal. You can come—be my lucky charm.”

Déjà vu kicked me in the forehead. Emptiness filled my gut like rotten meat, heavy and disgusting. I’d been a lucky charm... it was just too close to home.

“I’ll pass, Jack. Go on. Do your thing with the boys.”

He looked at me for a long while trying to decipher where the trepidation was coming from, but I wasn’t willing to disclose that piece of insanity.

Finally, he exhaled slowly and shook his head. “Suit yourself.”

“Don’t be mad, okay? I’m in a pretty bad mood, anyway. I won’t be any fun, and you said this was a boy’s thing. You’re better off going without me. You’ll have fun.”

His jaw ticked as he ground his teeth and turned to walk out without another word. I stood, grabbing his arm before he left the room.

“You’re acting strange, girl.”

He was right. I was losing my shit. The sort of setup we had was strange to me. I hadn’t had a real boyfriend since I was a kid, and I haven’t even dared to pretend what I had with Flynn constituted a relationship. I didn’t know the rules. I was playing a bum hand. Everything was fucking Greek.

I was an idiot.

Reaching up, I ran my hand over his cheek and placed my lips against his. “I’ll miss you, but I’m fine. I’m just tired, I guess.”

He didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “You sure? I’ll stay, baby. Just say the word.”

I pushed back and sat on the lumpy mattress, running my hand over the scratchy bedspread. “I’ll be here when you’re done—if you want to stop by, that is. I’m gonna stay here and watch an old movie and drink this bottle of fancy wine.”

I pointed at the four-dollar bottle of Pinot I’d picked up at the convenience store. It was rancid, but I wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, so I had to adapt. Momentarily, I licked my lips, remembering bottles of wine I’d consumed in the past. Wine so expensive I could pay my motel rent for a month.

The thought made me ill.

“Shove off, handsome. Those boys are waiting.”

He hesitated, but then tipped his hat and backed out of the room, shutting the door with a quiet click.

“I
t’s slow. We should close down and go for a drive.”

Jackson’s lips brushed against my neck, and my entire body shuddered. I’d been lost in thought most of the day. It’d been three days since the awkward situation the night he’d gone out with his friends. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I knew he could sense me pulling away.

I did a lot of thinking that night while I was alone. Staring at the peeling walls and the static-ridden television put things into perspective. I had to make a choice.

The choice should’ve been an easy one. I had a good thing going with Jack. I had a job—not a great job, but a job—and I had a little peace in my life. Of course, I was truly and completely in denial about things that went down when I left Vegas, and the words from Flynn’s last letter still burned in the back of my head. I needed closure, and deep down I knew it was only a matter of time before I snapped.

Even though my nightmares were less frequent and the dark corners of my mind got lighter and lighter the longer I stayed with Jack, I was still restless. My heart was somewhere else, tethered to a man I couldn’t trust.

That was where my choices came into play. Staying with Jackson wasn’t an option, no matter how wonderful he was. I couldn’t continue to hurt him if I couldn’t let Flynn go. It was cruel to continue pretending I was completely content when I wasn’t. It wasn’t from lack of trying. I wanted to be content. I wanted to fall in love with a great guy and live a happily ever after.

Unfortunately, I was defective inside. I wasn’t programmed correctly, and my damn heart had nothing to give the sweet man. It was charred and black inside.

I leaned back into Jack and nodded against his shoulder. “A drive sounds good. Let me clean up, and I’ll meet you out here in fifteen.”

Nature had never really appealed to me—maybe because I’d lived in the city for so long. I liked looking at it, but being in it—or involved with it—wasn’t my thing. I was beginning to really enjoy it, though, or learning to appreciate it at the very least.

The silence was no longer eerie. The sounds started making more sense the longer I spent outside, and the scent of the fresh air and rich earth was fresh and exhilarating.

More than anything, it was peaceful in a way I’d never known.

I’d grown to love the warm hues of the desert, especially the sunsets as they dipped behind the symmetry of the hills. When I moved to California, it was one of the things I’d missed the most. Even falling in love with the ocean didn’t deplete the way I yearned for red clay and dark summer skies.

The landscape along the country roads toward the lake was just as beautiful. The dense trees lined the road, and the dry, crisp limbs begged for some fresh rain. But it was gorgeous, and sitting on that bench seat of the truck across from Jackson gave me a giddy, calm feeling. It was exactly what I needed to unload the shitload of confusion that weighed on my mind.

My toes bobbed in and out of the freshwater spring as I ran my fingers through the blades of grass. Jackson lay on the blanket, his arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. I got the appeal of a romantic afternoon, sharing sandwiches and kisses and listening to the birds chirp. It was charming. Sweet. And completely out of my norm. That bitch of a conscience came back, tapping me on the shoulder, but I blocked it out.

I just wanted to enjoy the day and work through the issues one day at a time.

“I was thinking about that place you stay.”

I peered over at him, confused. “What about it?”

He laughed and pushed himself up on his elbows. “It’s a piece of shit. Why don’t you stay with me?”

My stomach clenched. That wasn’t happening.

Sitting up straighter, I sighed and closed my eyes to gain some composure.

So much for a stress-free afternoon.

“I’m fine there. It’s sort of charming.”

His eyes burned into mine. He wasn’t buying it, and I was a little afraid to get into this conversation.

“It’s full of low-lifes and burn-outs. You should be with me.”

Looking down, I shook my head. “I can’t move in with you, Jackson.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Won’t.”

“Is it because you’re leaving?”

His question caught me off guard. I tensed and looked away, not sure how to answer him. Once again, he read me like an open book.

Reaching out, he pushed my hair behind my shoulder and kissed my neck. “Don’t play dirty,” I said, laughing. “This isn’t going to work.”

“If I was playing dirty, I’d already have you out of those jeans,” he whispered.

This man... he was too damn hard to resist. Those blue eyes and the dimples in his cheeks left me a pile of dumb.

I was on my back with him above me in seconds. His eyes were playful, but his lips weren’t smiling.

“Jack... don’t.”

He held me down while I struggled to sit up. “Jayne, don’t do this. I’ve got a perfectly good place, and I want us to start...” He trailed off, but the unspoken words were clear. They were like napalm in my belly.

“I like being on my own, Jackson. It has nothing to do with your place, or you. It’s me.”

It was a half-truth. I hated being alone. It was part of the reason I felt comfortable in the arms—and in the beds—of strangers. The problem was me, and that was the worst part. I was fucked up.

“That’s bullshit. I’m with you every night as it is. It ain’t right living in a motel, unless you’re not planning on staying.”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. The probability of me staying was slim, but I still hadn’t decided.

I pushed on his chest, forcing him to sit up. “Jack, we’re having fun, right? We’ve only known each other a few months. There’s no reason to move in together yet.”

He scoffed and sat up. I knew he was pissed. “This isn’t about moving too fast or moving in together, Jayne. You’ve been acting weird for a while.”

That was a shock to hear. I hadn’t realized I’d been that obvious, but apparently, I was as transparent as they came. For me, that was unheard of. Pretending was one of my greatest gifts. It was another reminder that I was losing my grip.

“Will you go back to him?”

He was bombarding me with impossible questions, and I wondered how long all of this had been worrying him. I felt awful, and I knew in that moment I had to come clean—at least throw him a bone.

I’d already come to the conclusion that I couldn’t continue lying to him. Not after all he’d done for me, but especially because he didn’t deserve it. He deserved so much better than what I was giving him.

It wasn’t fair. Not to him, and not to me.

It didn’t matter that I’d warned him—he wasn’t the type of man to just let go or give up.

“I honestly don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Right now, today, no. I don’t want to go back. Eventually, maybe. I haven’t made up my mind, and that’s exactly why I told you from the beginning that this could never go anywhere. I’m fucked up, Jackson. You have no idea what I’ve done, or what I’ve gone through, or what brought me here. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Hurting him was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I knew that pain. I’d felt it down deep in my bones. I would never inflict that on someone like him.

“I make you happy, Jayne. I can see that you’re happy sometimes. You’ve changed since you’ve been here. You could give it a chance.”

“You do make me happy, Jack, but it was a mistake to get involved with you,” I told him honestly.

“If you’re happy, then it’s not a mistake. If this is about you not being over that guy...”

I held up my hand for him to stop. “This isn’t about some guy, Jack. That’s not why I can’t do this. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Why are you here? Why did you come here, Jayne? If you’re not running from a guy, then what is it?”

I looked away from him and turned my eyes up toward the sky, at the clouds floating by with no purpose or worry. “It’s not a nice story, and I don’t think you want to know. In fact, I know you don’t.”

“You have to trust someone someday, Janie, or at least give someone a shot at earning that trust. Otherwise, you’ll never know.”

I didn’t tell him that made sense. Why bother? I’d trusted before—it wasn’t that I was so distrustful that I was completely closed off like he thought I was. It was the broken trust that was major and significant enough to cause me to hide all my pieces in my pocket. He wasn’t getting in there, and neither was anyone else. Not to the bottom, not in the crevices where the long-hidden secrets balled up and died. No. As much as he deserved it, had earned it, I wasn’t giving that away.

I
pulled up in front of the bakery and was immediately assaulted by the rich, sweet aromas of freshly baked goodies and good strong coffee.

I’d found the quaint little place my second day in town and had visited each morning, ordering the locally-famous cinnamon roll and a plain black coffee. I’d never realized what a sweet tooth I had until I found the quirky sweet shop. I’d denied myself the fatty, calorie-ridden things for years.

It was nice not giving a shit. Thankfully, I had spectacular genes that allowed me the pleasure of eating horribly. I’d always been too preoccupied with trying to look my best, be my best. The other indulgences were nothing compared to biting into a gooey, doughy cinnamon roll.