Page 24 of My Fiancé's Brother 2

“I didn’t need to.”

Why had Matt told Jackson that he had asked me to marry him? Why was Matt so intent on sticking his nose in this situation? Jackson and I were trying to figure out our next steps, and his interference wasn’t helping anyone.

It did not go unnoticed that Jackson wasn't bringing up ourmarriage. He went from insisting we get married to not even mentioning it. In two days, he would leave to return to Virginia. Also, if we weren’t getting married, shouldn’t we be talking about our next steps? Why wasn’t he bringing it up? Probably for the same reason I wasn’t. It was an impossible subject, one that I had no idea how to even broach.

We pulled up to the restaurant. Jackson looked over at me while he turned off the truck. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking. Had my declaration of love scared him off so bad that now he didn’t want to have anything to do with me? Did he still want to marry me? What was the right thing to do here? Was I making the biggest mistake of my life?

He looked like he wanted to say something but all he said was, “Ready?”

The restaurant hostesslooked stunning with her straight white blonde hair that hung to her waist and the skintight dress that showed off her beautiful body.

She eye fucked him the entire way to the table. Complete knockouts threw themselves at him. Why on earth would he want to tie himself down to the prim red-headed pregnant ex-fiancée of his fake brother? Oh, right. He didn’t. He told me he didn’t. He felt he should, but it wasn’t something he wanted. I felt so desperately sad about everything right now that I could barely handle it.

Irene and Matt waited at the table. Matt wore his navy Dolce and Gabbana suit that cost $3500. I know, because I had bought it for him for his birthday. Irene wore a beautiful cream linen dress. Her eyebrows went up an inch when she saw how Jackson was dressed. She and Matt exchanged small smiles. They were the mean girls in this clique.

When we all had our drinks, Matt held up his glass of wine. “To family, both old and new.”

Tonight might be the last time I saw Jackson. I had no idea what was going on between the two of us, but I had this feeling that the man was on the brink of just disappearing out of my life.

As pathetic as it was, I needed to soak up every detail about him and store them in my heart. Some people think that when they have a loss, that it’s just best to forget. I know enough about loss, to understand that it’s the forgetting that hurts the most. I needed to remember what he looked like. How he moved. The sound of his voice. Tonight I would do my best to imprint this man in my memory.

Jackson, Irene, and Matt carried the entire conversation. I didn't speak. I mutely ate my meal, completely ignored whatever it was they were talking about, and I picked one thing about Jackson to study and memorize. One hand, lightly grasped his beer bottle since he had wholly shunned the waiter’s attempt to pour it into an iced glass. His shirtsleeves were flipped up once showing off his thick wrists. Strapped on his strong left wrist, was a slightly beat up, expensive military watch. His knuckles were scarred. Long tapered fingers. The palms of his hands were broad and thick. These were the hands of a strong man.

When he spoke, I used that time to study his face. The way his lips moved. How straight and white his teeth were. The slight bump in his nose where it had probably been broken once. The color of his eyes. They changed depending on his mood and the light. Right now his eyes were the shade of forest green. Dark but not too dark. Fringed by the darkest eyelashes ever given to a man.

He glanced at me. Instead of looking away, I just stared at him. He stared back. Tonight I refused to look away first. And the Navy SEAL in him wasn’t going to look away either. Matt and Irene’s conversation broke off and still Jackson and I stared at each other.

“You two okay over there?” Matt asked. I could hear the annoyance in his voice.

A smile broke out over Jackson’s face. It was so infectious that I smiled in return. And then we were both laughing. And still, we stared at each other. Neither one of us wanted to admit defeat.

It became so intense between us that I had to drop my gaze.

He leaned forward and said so quiet, “Gotcha.”

Which just made me put my mouth in my napkin so I could giggle some more.

Jesus. I loved this man. He was breaking my heart, but whatever broken chunks were still beating in my chest, those pieces were dedicated entirely to him. This is the point that you jump off that massive bridge and as you free fall, you keep waiting for your true love to swoop in and grab you at the last moment, but those final seconds, when you realize he isn’t going to, that is what heartache feels like. Right before you hit bottom, you are thinking, “Oh fuck. Misread that one. This is going to hurt.”

I was still in the final seconds of my free fall. And I knew it was going to hurt. Real bad. But he was so perfect, so alive, so much fun at this moment, that I honestly didn’t care.

CHAPTER 8

Irene cleared her throat.“So, Emily. Have you given any thought as to what schools you might want to pick?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I heard that the York Park pre-school has a four-year waiting list.”

“Indeed,” Matt picked up his wine. “They say that there’s a direct correlation between preschools and ivory league schools.”

“I was hoping to grow this kid some arms and legs first before worrying about University.”

Jackson stared at the table, and slowly twisted his beer bottle on the white tablecloth. Why was he just sitting there listening? Didn’t he have anything to say about the future of his child?

“You can never start planning for that kind of stuff too soon,” Irene said with a knowing smile.

“I have a client on the school board who mentioned that he might be able to pull some strings for us,” Matt said.

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