Page 20 of My Fiancé's Brother 2

Matt laughed. “Dozens.”

“As a mother, I had to enforce the no bedroom, no closed door rule. He always had a wild side and matters didn’t improve when he joined the navy. With all the booze and his buddies to egg him on.” She shrugged and looked at Matt. “Who would have imagined that he would settle down before you, Matt?”

I had shown up to a gun fight with a wet napkin. I had no defense against this woman. She hit every scared nerve in my body.

She painted a picture of Jackson that I hadn’t yet seen, but I could easily imagine. An incredibly hot Navy SEAL with big muscles and navy friends and a long line of women willing to jump in his bed.

I remembered him turning on his charms towards Julie that night at my party. He had stood so close to her and made her feel like she was the only one in the room. Hot jealousy and incredible insecurity knifed through me. The man could get anyone he wanted. He was beautiful, had an incredible body and a job that men coveted and women swooned over. He even vocalized that he didn’t want a baby or commitment. And his reward was getting stuck with me?

How long would our marriage last? How long would he be able to sit in the box before he needed to break free? It wasn’t a question of if he would leave, it was more a question of when. I could write the book on how to play it safe in life. Jackson made his living runningtowards the most dangerous things in this world. Throw a crying baby into the mix, and he would be clawing at the walls of our marriage within a year.

Chloe whined and gave a sharp bark. Footsteps, taking two stairs at a time. I heard the door slide open. I did not turn around and instead watched Matt and Irene freeze in their tracks.

Irene recovered first, by touching her throat. “Hi, Jackson.”

CHAPTER 6

I turnedand looked at Jackson. He stood at the door. With a deceptively casual stance, he took in all of this intimate scene - the dinner, the wine, the three of us. His green glance skimmed over my face without expression, yet somehow he managed to make me feel like my only ally had just busted me dining with the enemy. I bristled with indignation. I invited him first to stay for dinner, and he was the one who lied and drove off like his hair was on fire. It wasn’t my fault Matt and Irene showed up for dinner unannounced. Without speaking to him, I turned around in my seat, giving him my back. His issue, not mine.

“Come in,” Irene invited him into my kitchen. “We just finished dinner.”

Matt stood up and started to clear the table. “Do you want some food? We have lots of leftovers.”

Jackson appeared by my side and put his hand on the back of my chair which was an unusually possessive move from him. I glanced up at his face, trying to read his expression.

“My plans got canceled,” he spoke down to only me.

“I’m glad,” my voice was faint. “Are you hungry?”

He held my gaze for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “I’m good.”

“You want a beer?” Matt asked.

“Sure,” Jackson said. He pulled a chair around the table and sat next to me. There were four sides to the table, but it felt like a statement that he would sit on my side with me.

Irene and Matt didn’t skip a beat. They kept up their witty repertoire while Matt cleaned the kitchen, laughing and joking about various things with Jackson. When Matt and Irene wanted to be inclusive, they knew how to make someone feel welcome. Beside me, Jackson felt relaxed. He sipped his beer, participated in the conversation, and occasionally teased me. So why was I anxious? I felt so uptight I could barely speak.

The conversation turned to Jackson.

“So, you must be almost ready to head back to Virginia,” Irene spoke.

“Got my papers. I head back Friday.”

I could feel my entire body stiffen, I turned my gaze down to the table, trying desperately to hide my despair over that fact.

Matt crossed his arms. “So, what exactly does that mean? Do you get sent out to fight right away?”

“Nah, we'll probably spend at least two months in training before we get deployed.”

“How long are you deployed for?”

“We train or are deployed anywhere from eight to ten months.”

Irene shook her head. “I was the wife of a cop for 29 years, and I never got used to my husband going out every day to serve and protect. But to have your husband leave for weeks or months at a time? I can’t imagine.”

“Do you still live on the base?” Matt interjected.

“Always have, probably always will.”

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