Mia’s jaw was tighter than a drum. “Fine. Whatever.”
It was her mother’s turn to look hurt. Without another word, Brenda awkwardly adjusted the strap of her bulky leather purse and left the apartment.
The moment the door closed, Mia’s face collapsed.
“C’mere, darlin’.”
She dove into his open arms, her breathing labored as she buried her head in his chest.
Jackson hugged her tight and stroked her hair, his heart splitting in two when he felt her tears soaking his bare skin. In the two months he’d known her, he’d never seen Mia break down like this. If he could’ve taken away her pain and transferred it all on himself, he would’ve done it in a nanosecond, but all he could do was hold her close and offer gruff words of comfort.
Mia lifted her head to reveal tearstained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Why did she have to show up again? She’s done so much damage already—why can’t she just leave us alone?”
Jackson led her over to the couch, where he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m gonna say somethin’ you probably don’t wanna hear,” he started roughly, “but I want you to hear me out, all right?”
She nodded weakly.
He paused, knowing he had to tread very carefully. “Have you considered that maybe your mother’s motives are sincere?”
Bitterness splashed across her face. “They’re not. She has an agenda.”
“How can you be certain of that?”
“Because she always has an agenda. I don’t know what she’s up to this time, but there’s nothing sincere about that woman. The only person she’s ever cared about is herself.”
He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind Mia’s ear. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” she retorted, but her voice faltered slightly.
“All I’m sayin’ is, maybe you should keep an open mind. People do change, Mia. Sometimes folks take a good long look at their lives and realize how much their mistakes have cost ’em.” He swallowed. “At the end of the day, family is the most important thing you’ve got. Family, and love.”
“Oh really?”
He suddenly found a pair of shrewd green eyes focused on him.
“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
“I overheard you on the phone with your mother, Jackson. If family is so important, then why did you lie to her? You have the time off, but you told her you couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”
Guilt trickled through him. “You’re right. I did lie,” he admitted.
“Why?”
His throat tightened. “I…don’t like going home.”
“Why?” Mia pressed.
“Because…” Desperation and resentment formed a lethal cocktail that coursed in his blood. “Because I don’t wanna see my brother, okay? We had a falling out several years back, and things haven’t been the same since.”
A deep crease marred her forehead. “What happened?”
Jackson didn’t answer. Every muscle in his body had coiled tight, too many dang emotions constricting his chest. The memories were still so raw, like a wound that refused to heal. Whenever the thought of Shane entered his head, it was accompanied by crippling pain and bitter anger, not to mention paralyzing sorrow.
“Jackson…tell me what happened.”
He swallowed a lump of sadness, then forced himself to answer. “My brother Shane recently married my high school sweetheart—”
“Seriously?” Mia said in shock.
Jackson wasn’t finished. “But that wasn’t what caused the falling out. All the bad shit went down years before that, after she—” he sucked in a breath, then exhaled in a frantic rush, “—after she accused me of forcing myself on her.”
Chapter Sixteen
There. He’d said it. Confessed the one painful secret that had been tearing him apart for years now.
And just as Jackson had expected, Mia’s entire body stiffened, her expression conveying pure and total horror.
What he hadn’t expected, though, was her immediate—and staunch—words of response.
“That’s f**king bullshit. You would never force yourself on a woman.”
“And I didn’t,” he said hoarsely. “I would never take a woman against her will, Mia.”
“I know.” Conviction rang in her voice, and her hands were firm as she cupped his chin. “Tell me everything.”
The enormous bulge of pain obstructing his throat made it hard to speak, but he managed to power through it. “Well, first thing you should know is that Tiff told the truth not a day later, so there was no arrest or trial or any of that nasty shit.”
“Tiff? That was your girlfriend’s name?”
He nodded. “Tiffany Griffen. She lived a few miles down the road from us—her daddy owned a horse-breeding farm, and he’d been raising Tiff alone ever since her mama died. She and I started dating in junior year and we were frickin’ inseparable. We dated for three years, but we didn’t have sex right away. Tiff was a virgin, I wasn’t. We made love for the first time on our one-year anniversary.”
Jackson stopped, unwittingly remembering their very first time. He’d gone all out that night—candles, rose petals, the whole shebang. He could still picture the ecstatic smile on Tiff’s face when she’d walked into the cabin and seen all the trouble he’d gone to in order to make her first time special.