What was she doing in here?
Plain and simple, she’d panicked.
What was it about Jackson’s presence that short-circuited her thought process? She never had this problem with any other man in her life. Jackson was unique.
She was about to open the door and step out when she heard her name mentioned. The breath caught in her throat as she strained to catch what he was saying about her.
“I’m serious. Serena Winston saved my life.”
There was a pause. He must be talking on the phone. That meant the cell service and internet were back online. She didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. She supposed she would soon find out.
“Don’t you dare say a word. I told you that as my friend, not my agent.” A pause ensued. “Because I told you not to. Just leave it be.”
Serena smiled. Jackson was protecting her privacy. He was a bona fide hero in her book.
“Hey, Gizmo.” Pause. “No. I was talking to the dog.”
Oh, no. If Gizmo realized she was in the closet, he would put up a fuss. No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than there was the sound of pawing at the door. Serena didn’t move. She didn’t so much as take a breath. She just prayed that Gizmo would get bored and move on.
“Arff! Arff!”
“Are you serious? She’s all over the headlines?” Another pause. “I don’t need to check it out.” Pause. “Yes. I know this scoop could make a difference in my career, but it’s not worth it to me.”
Serena smiled broadly and pumped her fist, banging her hand into more hangers. Jingle. Jingle. She reached up, silencing the hangers. The last thing she needed was for him to catch her lurking in his closet. She didn’t even want to imagine what she must look like. This was easily the most embarrassing moment of her life—and if Jackson caught her, it would be even worse.
“Arff! Arff!”
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
“Stop... No, not you. I was talking to the dog. Listen, I’ve got to go take the dog out.” Pause. “I don’t know.” Pause. “As soon as they plow open the roads.”
Jackson’s footsteps could be heard approaching the closet. “There’s nothing in there, boy. Come on. I’ll take you out.”
Jackson’s foots
teps faded away.
Serena cautiously exhaled a pent-up breath. She opened the closet door a crack to make sure the coast was clear. It was. She quickly exited and stretched. Her muscles did not like being hunched over for so long.
Not wasting too much time, she hung up the shirt, closed the closet and exited Jackson’s bedroom. She glanced toward the front porch, where she saw him through the window. His ankle must be feeling a lot better if he could put on a boot and go out in the snow. That was good, right?
For some reason, the thought of Jackson being mobile didn’t make her happy. Soon he’d be leaving her. And now that she knew she could trust him, she wanted him to stay.
The only question she had was whether he’d known who she was all along. If not, what had tipped him off?
She carried the now-empty laundry basket back to the laundry room just off the kitchen. As she placed it on the floor next to the dryer for another load, she realized that this place, even though it was quite large, was very homey. She’d never felt relaxed at her home in Hollywood.
And then she realized that perhaps it wasn’t the structure around her but rather the people in it. Gizmo was new to her life and they’d immediately bonded. And now there was Jackson. She felt guilty for not trusting him sooner. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make it up to him.
She returned to the great room and was about to sit down at her laptop when she noticed her wallet sitting on the corner of her desk. How in the world had it gotten here? And then she noticed the distinct bite marks in the black leather. Gizmo. He was the one who’d given her away. That dog.
Just then the front door swung open. Gizmo raced into the room as though he were being chased. He stopped and shook himself off. Serena couldn’t help but smile. This dog did not like snow.
“What’s so amusing?” Jackson asked.
“Gizmo. He doesn’t like the snow. At all.”
“Give him time. It might grow on him.”