Tiffany’s blue eyes swam with horror as the two women locked gazes.
“I can’t believe you did that,” the blonde whimpered, pressing her palm to her red cheek.
Mia was relieved to see that she hadn’t drawn blood, but she knew Tiffany would have a hell of a bruise on her cheekbone tomorrow morning. Which only set off another rush of shame that almost knocked her off her feet. Jackson immediately came up beside her and she sagged against his solid frame, still stunned by what she’d done.
“I’m so sorry,” Mia murmured.
Tiffany didn’t answer. She just gazed imploringly at Shane and said, “Can we please go?”
Without another word, husband and wife stalked off toward the red pickup parked several yards away.
As an engine roared to life, Mia peered up at Jackson in pure misery. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I hit her.”
His chest heaved. “She provoked you,” he said gruffly.
“That’s no excuse.” An anguished moan slid out. “Oh f**k, I’m a terrible person. I hit her, Jackson.”
Tears filled her eyes, then spilled over and streamed down her cheeks in hot, salty rivulets. She felt so ashamed she couldn’t even breathe.
And she was scared. Honest-to-God scared.
Because deep down, Mia knew the provocation that led to her punching Tiffany hadn’t been the woman’s use of the B-word—it was Tiffany’s character-bashing of Jackson.
She’d called him a deviant! And then she’d lied through her teeth by saying she believed their past relationship had been wrong.
The woman’s gall had made Mia see red. Acting like there was something wrong with Jackson? Un-fucking-acceptable. In that moment, Mia’s sole goal had been to silence that sniveling liar, to punish her for having the nerve to imply that Jackson was something other than the extraordinary and honorable man he truly was.
And in that moment, Mia had realized just how much she cared about Jackson. So deeply that she’d assaulted someone for him.
Somehow, over these last three months, she’d fallen for the man without even realizing it.
And that was the most terrifying thing of all.
“C’mon, let’s go home.” Jackson’s warm hands cupped her chin, his thumbs sweeping away the tears staining her face.
She nodded weakly, allowing him to take her hand and lead her to his father’s truck.
The drive back to the Double R was a quiet one. Mia battled tears the whole time, unable to get a grip on the distressing emotions roiling in her belly.
She’d punched another person.
She loved Jackson.
The two thoughts tangled together and ravaged her tired brain, but she refused to give them the attention they demanded. She didn’t want to think about how guilty she felt about the former, or how confused and scared the latter made her.
When Jackson finally pulled into the ranch driveway, relief crashed into her and had her diving out of the pickup. All she wanted to do right now was lock herself in Jackson’s bedroom and bury her head under the covers. She didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to feel. She would simply sleep, and then tomorrow she’d be back in San Diego, where she’d sift through her thoughts and emotions, and hopefully be able to make sense of them.
“Mia, wait.”
His gruff voice stopped her when she was halfway to the porch.
“Do you mind being alone for a little while?” he asked, his worried eyes probing her face. “I’m gonna drive out to Shane and Tiff’s place.”
She blinked in surprise. “What for?”
“I think it’s time my brother and I had that talk we’ve been trying to avoid.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” She bit her lip. “Can you…will you apologize to Tiffany again? I feel so awful about what happened, I really do, Jackson.”
“I know you do, sugar.”
His long strides ate up the distance between them, and then he was kissing her, his lips warm and reassuring.
“Go upstairs and get ready for bed, darlin’. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
With a sweet smile, he left her on the porch and headed back to the truck. Mia watched until his taillights disappeared in the darkness, then took a breath and walked into the house.
She knew Evie had gone out after dinner with some friends, but Jackson’s parents had come straight home. As Mia entered the front hall, she prayed that Kurt and Arlene had already retired for the night. She didn’t have the energy or the brain capacity to maintain a pleasant conversation, and she suspected that if either of Jackson’s parents saw her face, they’d immediately know that something terrible had happened tonight.
Mia quietly slipped out of her sneakers and took a hesitant step toward the hallway. Luckily, the kitchen was dark, which told her Arlene wasn’t doing any late-night baking or anything, but up ahead, light spilled out from the living-room doorway.
She tiptoed toward it and hoped that if Jackson’s parents were inside, they wouldn’t spot her. When she neared the doorway, however, she realized there’d been no reason to worry. Kurt and Arlene were in the living room, all right, but they were sound asleep on the couch.
Her heart jumped to her throat as she stared at the sleeping couple. Kurt was on his back with one arm propped behind his head, the other wrapped tightly around Arlene, who was nestled at his side. The older couple looked so peaceful lying there that Mia almost started crying again.