“My parents own a farm, remember? They’re a little bit country and a little bit rock n’ roll, as my dad would say. We heard country music around the house since I was a little kid. One of my uncles plays the guitar, and he taught me when I was about ten. I haven’t stopped since. That first song turned into an album, then I got an offer to collaborate on another country star’s album. The rest is history, I guess. Both of those albums did really well, so all my hard work finally paid off.”
He stopped then and waited, holding her gaze. When she looked away, he knew she understood. He’d told her his story. Now it was her turn.
She sighed.
“My mom died a few years ago.”
Jackson closed his eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“Thanks. We weren’t close and I regret that. That’s when I first started searching for my biological father. I hired a private investigator to track him down. His name was David. He invited me to dinner to tell me what he found out. I didn’t see any harm in going. He seemed nice enough.” She stood and carried her plate over to the sink.
“Before long he was dropping by my place just to chat or bring Chinese. He liked jazz and was a well-respected businessman in the community. I thought I’d finally gotten lucky and met one of these nice guys I keep hearing so much about.”
Jackson stood and put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay. I should tell someone. I need to tell someone.”
As he gazed down into her big, brown eyes, Jackson had a feeling he was going to be sorry he asked.
Mainly because the more he got to know her, the harder it was to leave her alone.