An Island Affair Page 7

  My mother gave him a cross-eyed look. “Easy on the johnny cakes, mister. Remember, you’re watching your cholesterol.”

  “Yes, Daddy, I’ll be watching you this weekend. Every morsel that you eat,” Alyson said.

  My father ignored the comments from both of them and continued with Jackson. “Edward tells me the two of you met at Harvard Law School.”

  “Yes, sir, we did. We became friends very quickly. Your son is a good man.” Jackson filled his mouth with cabbage, carefully avoiding the small pile of pigeon peas and rice on his plate. He’d obviously placed it there out of courtesy to the cook.

  “Don’t like pigeon peas and rice?” I asked, watching him way too close.

  “Actually I’ve never tried them before.” Jackson smiled at me.

  “They’re very good,” Mama said to Jackson, “but my feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t like them.”

  He took a forkful of them and chewed slowly, then laid his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He took a long drink of ice water.

  “He doesn’t like them,” I said before stuffing a forkful of cabbage into my mouth.

  “Sit up straight in your chair, Jazzy,” my mother tried whispering but all too loudly. All eyes landed on me.

  I was instantly embarrassed and told her so with the look I gave her. Although I was slouching a bit, I wondered why she felt the need to bring it to everyone’s attention—particularly when the man who made my heart flutter was seated right across from me at the table.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not too keen on the pigeon peas and rice.” Jackson smiled at my mother apologetically. “But the fish and cabbage is delicious. And I love the johnny cakes.”

  “Jasmine cooked the johnny cakes.” Daddy smiled and gave me a wink.

  “Yes, she did,” my mother concurred. “Jasmine is a very good cook. Alyson, too.”

  “The johnny cakes are delicious, Jasmine.” Jackson captured my eyes for a moment and I stared back.

  I took in his handsome features. His face wasn’t clean-shaven at all. It was a bit rugged and there was a faint bit of stubble that covered his cheeks and rested on his chin. His eyes were gentle and his smile genuine.

  “Thank you,” I managed to say before looking away, embarrassed that I’d stared so long.

  “Jackson, please help yourself to the food, and don’t hesitate to make yourself at home. After dinner, Alyson will show you to Edward’s old bedroom and maybe the two of you could take a stroll after the sun sets.” My mother smiled.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Talbot. I really appreciate dinner. A home-cooked meal is so much better than eating at the local hotels. And your hospitality is undeniable. Thank you.”

  My mother looked at Jackson, set her fork down onto her plate. “What’s your mother like? She taught you the best of manners.”

  “My mother is a very strong woman. She’s very assertive and doesn’t fit into anybody’s mold. Not afraid to speak her mind.”

  Alyson laughed. “She sounds a lot like me. She and I would probably fare very well together.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know. Probably not,” said Jackson. “My experience has been that women who are too much alike have a hard time getting along.”

  “Your experience with women has brought you to this conclusion?” Alyson asked.

  “My experience with life,” he said as he gave Alyson a gentle smile.

  I laughed inside. Did he just dis her?

  Denny, who had been unusually quiet during dinner, asked to be excused from the table. After my father excused him, Denny stood and held his hand out to Jackson and said, “It was good meeting you, Jackson.”

  Jackson stood, took Denny’s hand in a firm shake. “Good meeting you, too, Denny. And if I don’t see you before you leave for the Royal Bahamas, good luck on your tour of duty.”

  “Thanks.”

  Denny rushed from the table and into his room. When he came out, he’d changed out of his dinner garb and into a pair of cargo shorts, an old T-shirt and flip-flops. He dashed out the back door, no doubt taking the back route to Sage’s house. It seemed that the two of them spent every waking hour together, not wanting to waste a single moment before his deployment. He couldn’t wait to get away and I found myself wishing I had somewhere to get away to myself.

  After dessert, Jackson and Alyson took a walk through our neighborhood, as my mother had suggested. Mama kept herself busy in the kitchen, while my father and I retired to the front porch.

  “Your mother has a bad habit of playing matchmaker,” Daddy said as he took a sip from his beer.

  “Yeah, she does,” I had to agree.

  “For what it’s worth, he’s no more interested in Alyson than I’m interested in watching my cholesterol.” He smiled.

  “That’s not a good analogy, Daddy. You need to be interested in your cholesterol.” I looked at my father. “And I don’t care whether or not he’s interested in her.”

  “Really? Is that why you kept your nose buried in your plate all through dinner?”

  “I talked...about some stuff...” I muttered.

  “I barely even knew you were there.”

  “She deserves love.”

  “Yes, but not with Jackson. Particularly since he has eyes for someone else.” My father was very intuitive.

  “Who?” I blushed.

  “Stevie Wonder could see that he has eyes for you,” he roared with laughter. “Why are you so hesitant, Jazzy?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you’re not shy, child. Your old dad has eyes. Why aren’t you going for what you want?”

  “Too many bad relationships.”

  “Love is a funny thing sometimes. We get in and out of relationships with people we don’t even like, much less love. And then we’re not able to recognize when the real thing comes along.” He laughed a bit. “Isn’t it funny?”

  “Yep,” I said, “but you’ve never had to worry about that. You and Ma have been in love since the beginning of time.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve met a lot of people who have missed out on the loves of their lives because they didn’t recognize it when it stared them in the face.”

  In the shade on the front porch, my father and I talked about life and relationships. I missed times like these with him. When I was younger, we’d sit on the porch for hours and analyze things. He filled my head with our family’s history, telling stories of the old days. Although I was very young when my grandparents passed away, I felt as if I knew them well. My father made sure they never left my heart.

  Before long, Jackson and Alyson returned from their walk. As they sauntered toward the house, Alyson laughed and played with her hair—a true indication that she was attracted to Jackson. I frowned.

  “I’m going for my run,” I announced and then stood quickly.

  “Aren’t you the least bit interested in hearing what transpired on that walk?” he asked.

  “Not even the least bit.” I gave my father a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

  “Night, sweetheart. Love you, too.”

  Chapter 10

  Jasmine

  I changed into a pair of running pants—the ones that hugged my butt in all the right places—and a cropped running top that revealed my toned abs. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and slipped on my sneakers. I needed to get a run in before the sun had completely set along the ocean. With my headphones wrapped around my neck and my iPhone tuned to my Caribbean playlist, I went into the kitchen to fill my water bottle.

  “You’re a runner.” It was more a statement, not a question.

  I turned to find that Jackson had changed into a pair of knee-length basketball shorts, a Bob Marley T-shirt and a pair of Nike slides.

  “Yes, I am.”


  “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

  “You run?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” he asked and then flashed a beautiful smile. “I’ve been known to run a couple hundred...feet.”

  We both laughed.

  “You plan to run in that?” I asked.

  Jackson looked down at his clothing and shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Well, come on, then.”

  “I’ll grab my sneakers,” he said and rushed out of the kitchen.

  I stood over the sink and filled my bottle with tap water. When I turned around I was staring my sister in the eyes.

  “Going for a run, Jasmine?”

  “Yep.” Alyson was a master at twisting my words and enticing me into confrontation and I wasn’t up for that right now. I twisted the cap onto my water bottle and took a drink.

  “I’m ready,” said Jackson as he entered the kitchen.

  “Oh, the two of you are going for a run together.”

  “She’s going to show me how this is done,” Jackson teased.

  We dashed out the back door before Alyson could ask any more questions. We walked a few feet until we reached the beach, and then I started to jog in place.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “I guess,” Jackson laughed.

  I began at a slow pace just so that he could keep up.

  “What’s the deal with your sister?” he asked. “Why is she so tightly wired?”

  “Hmm. That’s a different way of describing Alyson.” I smiled. “Didn’t you enjoy your walk with her?”

  “We mostly talked business. She gave me her expectations for the renovation of the Grove,” he said. “She has a lot of opinions about you, too.”

  “I just bet she does,” I said. “Alyson lives in her own perfect world, and no one can live up to her expectations. Especially me.”

  “Why not you?”

  “She’s always had this thing with me. Treats me as if I don’t know what I’m doing in life. Like I’m incapable of making decisions. She thinks I can’t handle the Grove. She and Edward wanted to hire someone to write our business and marketing plan, when I’m fully capable of doing it.”

  “Have you ever written a business or marketing plan?”

  “Not officially, but I can do it.”

  He raised one eyebrow as he looked at me. “Are you the problem child in the family?”

  “I think that a couple of my siblings probably believe that I am, because I didn’t follow their blueprint for my life. I don’t know what my brother told you about me, but I’m not clueless and I’m not living off my parents. I’m here because I was the only one who volunteered to move back home and take over the Grove. I had plenty of offers from major corporations after college, but I went to California to pursue my dreams first.”

  “What are your dreams?”

  “I wanted to be an actress. Wish I’d gone to an arts school and studied drama. I landed a few minor roles and a few modeling gigs, too.”

  Jackson smiled.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Why wouldn’t you secure your future first, and then go chasing after your dreams?”

  “Don’t judge me. You sound like them. And what authority do you have to tell anyone when they should chase after their dreams?”

  “I’m not judging you. We all have dreams, but dreams don’t pay the bills or put food on the table.”

  “I’m not a practical girl. I don’t function well in a nine-to-five type of environment. I need freedom.”

  “It’s who you are. I get that, but now you’re asking them to give you a chance to pull off something practical, when you’re not a practical person.”

  “I’m not practical, but I usually have a plan for things,” I told Jackson. “It’s true, I’ve made some bad decisions, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. So why should I continue to be judged for them? And why does the harshest judgment come from people who love you the most?”

  With a somber look on his face, Jackson turned his head. It was as if I’d hit a nerve.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re right,” he finally said. “Maybe the Grove is just what you need to earn your family’s trust.”

  “I know it is. But I don’t need their approval. The Grove is my inheritance, too. And I’ve never been more committed to anything in my life.”

  He nodded and we jogged farther down the beach. He struggled to keep up.

  “You need to rest?” I asked.

  “Can we?”

  “Sure.”

  We stopped running for a moment.

  Jackson bent over to catch his breath and then stood. “How often do you work out?”

  “I try to do something every day...whether it be running or yoga. Sometimes I lift weights with my brother. What about you? Do you work out at all?”

  “Not as often as I should,” Jackson said. “I don’t have a lot of time to do anything but work. My friends and family call me a workaholic.”

  “They’re probably right.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He raised his hand like a Boy Scout. “I notice you have your headphones around your neck. What’s on your playlist?”

  “Jah Cure, Beres Hammond. Caribbean artists that you’re probably not familiar with.”

  He pulled on the hem of his Marley T-shirt with both hands. “I know Bob Marley,” he said.

  “Good for you.” I smiled. “Marley’s cool.”

  “Let me hear some of your music,” he said. “What’s your favorite song?”

  I sorted through my playlist and found my favorite Jah Cure tune—a ballad about unconditional love. I turned up the volume as loud as it would go. The waves of the ocean seemed to crash against the shore in perfect rhythm with the music. As Jackson listened intently to the words, I took a drink from my water bottle and then set it down.

  “Let me hear it again,” he said.

  I went back to the track and played it again. I started moving my hips in a circular motion, my eyes closed, one hand in the air and an arm around my waist. I got lost in the music. When I opened my eyes, Jackson was watching, studying me. I grabbed his hand and encouraged him to dance with me. He moved a little.

  He grabbed my waist with both hands. Much like he had the night of our almost-kiss. His body pressed against mine, we danced to the Caribbean beat. With a quick twirl, my back relaxed against him. His arms wrapped tightly around me from behind, I rested my head against his chest. Still moving. Still swaying. My hormones began to rage and I couldn’t think of one place I’d rather have been than right there. He planted sweet kisses along the back of my neck, and when I turned to face him he planted those same kisses onto my forehead and nose. Soon his lips found mine, and this time without interruption. His kiss was gentle, and his tongue found its way between my lips and danced with my tongue. I savored the taste of him. The bulge that I felt against my belly, I wanted to feel in other places. I wanted to caress him there, but I fought the urge.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered.

  I moved my hands along his chest and took his face, caressing it gently. “We should continue our run,” I said.

  “You think so?” he asked, holding me tighter.

  “I think so.”

  I was certain that if we didn’t continue our run, we’d end up rolling about in the sand and I’d be filled with regrets. Too often, I’d gotten caught up in the moment and made rash decisions.

  Lately I’d been contemplating exactly what it was I had to offer. Beauty was a given, and I had successfully chiseled the perfect body. But I wanted to be respected for more than that. I wanted my siblings to see my worth. I wanted the next man who came into my life to receive the full package. For a person who had sold herself short f
or so long, I had to dig deep to find what was hidden inside. I was worth the wait, even if it meant that Jackson would walk away and never return. It was the chance I needed to take.

  I picked up my water bottle, took a long drink and then started jogging at a slow pace. Jackson grabbed my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, and gave it a gentle kiss.

  “I’m glad I came along for the run,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  “Can I see you again, Jasmine? I mean, after this weekend? Can we have dinner or something?”

  “I would like that.”

  Jackson grabbed my hand a little tighter and we made our way back to the house.

  Alyson sat on the front porch with her arms folded across her chest.

  “How was the run?”

  “Fantastic!” said Jackson. “It was exactly what I needed.”

  “It was a great run,” I cosigned.

  She didn’t look happy for us. Instead, she affected a businesslike tone. “Jasmine, I’d like to carve out some time to talk about the Grove while I’m here. Lord only knows when I’ll be back to the islands for a visit.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let’s talk in the morning over a bowl of boil’ fish and grits.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I excused myself and went into the house to take a shower. As the hot water cascaded over my naked body, I thought of Jackson. I closed my eyes and let my hands wander to my breasts. His sexy, tender lips had caressed mine in the most intimate way. I silently wished it were his hands caressing me now. Wished I could feel him against me again.

  Knowing these thoughts were getting me nowhere but aroused, I hopped out of the shower. I moisturized my body, slipped into a pair of silk pajamas and crept down the hall and into my bedroom. I sat on the side of the bed, and just as I’d begun to check my email and Twitter accounts, I heard a light tap on my door. I opened it just enough to peek through the crack. Seeing Jackson, I opened it all the way.

  “I just wanted to say good-night,” Jackson whispered.