Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)

Shane blew air out on a long sigh. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“It must have been gradual. And she’s always been temperamental.”

“Yeah.” But Shane didn’t look convinced. “But the messy house and the escalating behavior. Shit, I should’ve at least noticed the weight loss.”

Alex hadn’t been around to notice anything, so he’d never say a word against Shane. “You did notice. You said she’d been getting better and then she wasn’t. You just didn’t know what it meant. I’ve never heard of this B12 shit. Have you?”

Shane shook his head. They stared at their sleeping mother for a long minute. Finally, Shane cleared his throat. “I’ve got to call Merry. She’s worried sick.”

“Go on. Go see her. I’ll stay with Mom.”

“You don’t need to do that. The nurse said she’d probably sleep through.”

“It’s fine. You stayed with her last night.”

“Well, fuck,” Shane sighed. “I didn’t do a very good job of that.”

“You’re the one who’s been here for her for years. I don’t want to hear a word about it. Go see Merry and get some sleep. I’ll stay for another couple of days so you don’t have to take care of this on your own.”

Shane met his gaze, a frown gathering between his eyes as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he only said, “Okay. Thanks.”

Alex felt shame roll through him at that. That his brother would feel a need to thank him for hanging around to help for a day or two. “I’ll text you if anything comes up,” he murmured.

It was quiet after Shane left. Even if his mom had been awake, Alex wouldn’t have known what to say to her. But compared to some remote flights he’d caught on cargo planes, this hospital room was a luxury. He went to the vending machine and managed to make a three-course meal of chips, meat sticks and a candy bar, then he settled into the recliner and waited.

He wanted to call Sophie, or at least text her, but after what his family had put her through, she deserved a night free of chaos. Not that she’d necessarily take his call. He’d tried to help last night, but she hadn’t wanted that.

He never knew what to say to women when they were upset. He didn’t know how to comfort them. He’d spent his whole childhood blocking out his mother’s pain and then running away from it.

According to his ex, and other women before her, he was insensitive and a jerk and heartless. Most of the time that was when he was really trying, which only left him more confused.

No, he’d fucked it up again, and what did it matter anyway? What was he going to do? Tell her how amazing she was, make her life better, and then wave goodbye on his way out of town? That probably wasn’t what women meant by a “good listener.”

He’d be in town for a couple more days now, but that wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be enough for...whatever it was that he wanted. Some time with her. Easy time where nobody else needed anything from her. Time where they could talk about things that had nothing to do with their families or this place. Time when he could learn every kind of touch that made her sigh or scream or shake.

Two or three days wouldn’t be enough for all that. A few days would only make it worse. But some part of him wanted to bring on the pain. And Alex wasn’t sure he could take it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“DADDY?” THE SCREEN DOOR banged behind Sophie when she walked in. It was early, only 8:00 a.m., but she had to be at work in two hours, even if she was only presenting herself to be sacked.

The kitchen was quiet, but the steaming coffeepot beckoned. Despite her four martinis the night before, she hadn’t fallen into bed and passed out. She’d tossed and turned for hours, thinking about her family and this place and what she wanted most in life. Now she was exhausted and hollow, and she still had no idea what to say to her father.

Her momentary relief of not finding him in the kitchen was cowardly. She knew it was, but she couldn’t stop the feeling.

Sophie poured herself a tall mug of coffee and added sugar. After a few sips, she gathered up the breakfast dishes and set them in the sink, then she wiped down the table. She knew that she was comforting herself, that being useful was her Xanax, but it still helped. And someone had to clean the kitchen. It wasn’t wasted work.

And what if this was the last time?

“Sweetheart? Is that you?” he called from deeper in the house.

“I’m in the kitchen, Dad!” Her heart pounded hard, but she resisted the urge to turn on the faucet and start washing plates.

“I was just about to head out. Is everything all right, princess?”

She nodded and gave him a hug. His big hand patted her back the way it always had. Three light pats and then a stronger hug. “I just wanted to check on you,” she said.

“I’m good. Your brother is better. In fact, I was going to call you today. He’s withdrawing the lawsuit.”