It Started with a Kiss

I start laughing. Like he ever has trouble getting sex out of me. The man is magical in every way. As I lie there still struggling to even my breath, my phone buzzes again, and all good vibes disappear. I push up on one hand to read the message on the screen.

Mom: I’ll be at the bar at Baccarat at nine. We can catch up. Just us.

I sit all the way up and return the text: I’ll see you there.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

I stop with the mascara wand in my hand and lengthen my gaze in the reflection of the mirror to where Jackson is sitting on the edge of the tub. “I appreciate that you’re always there for me, but I need to do this alone. She’s the life of the party to the world, but with me, she’s always been a bit skittish, so if I show up with anyone else, she’ll shut down on me.” Before he says anything, I add, “It’s a trait I’m trying to break myself, so I appreciate your patience while I learn to work through my issues instead of running from them.”

He grins. “Proud of you.” Standing, he says, “Another glass of champagne?”

“No, I’m being careful after last night.” The glass still remains next to the tub where I took a bath earlier. “Having a glass was good to settle my stomach and my nerves, but I won’t be drinking much tonight.” I lean in and swipe the mascara on my lashes.

“If you do, make sure you eat something first.”

Some might tease him about being a worrywart, but not me. I’m eating it up. Other than Tealey and Cam, I’ve never had someone care so much about my well-being. It’s new, and it feels good. “I will, but I’m not sure if we’ll be there long. It would be great if we turned a corner on our relationship. I just don’t want to be disappointed again.”

Jackson comes close and leans on the counter next to me. Looking me in the eyes, he says, “You have nothing left to lose, Marlow. You should tell her how you feel.”

“If I told her how I really feel, I’d never see her again.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Only truth.

I drop my mascara in the case and grab a nude lipstick. One of the few things my mom ever taught me is when I go heavy on the eye makeup, go light on the lip, and vice versa. They shouldn’t compete. She’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. She knows makeup. I just wish she knew me.

He kisses my shoulder. “You’re a very beautiful woman inside and out. Don’t let her tell you otherwise.” Pushing off, he leaves the bathroom.

As I finish getting ready, I hold tight to his words. I’ll need his strength to get through this night.

Thirty minutes later, Jackson walks me to the car he ordered. I’m given a kiss and a solid slap on the ass before I get in. The heat and tingling have me smirking. “Save it for the bedroom, Romeo.” Doesn’t matter how much we try to resist each other physically, it’s virtually impossible. It’s what brought us together and is still the easiest way for us to connect.

“Don’t you worry about that, baby. I have all kinds of stuff planned for the bedroom when you get home.”

Home.

Has a sweeter word ever been said? He’s opened his apartment, his arms, and his heart to me. Our hearts and—I can say with confidence—souls are emotionally entwined. We’re still learning everything else as we go along.

I’ve always been a little different from my friends. Not everything has to be coming up roses for me. I’ve never been much of a romantic anyway. But Jackson sure knows how to make me feel special. I blow him a kiss after sinking into the back seat. He shuts the door, but I tell the driver. “Wait.” Rolling down the window, I say, “Hey?”

“What?” he says with a smirk on his face as he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I prefer you naked.”

He bellows in laughter. “And here I thought you were going to tell me you loved me.”

“That too, St. James.” I sit back and nod to the driver. Just as the car leaves the curb, I look back. “I love you. I love you so much.”

I don’t need to hear it back, although he says it without so much as a second thought. I know that man loves me. I feel it, and that rush is empowering.

The car ride is just long enough to let the nerves set in. I steel myself, wanting to go into this meeting with an open mind and heart. It’s hard, though, when I’ve been burned so many times. But she’s still my mother, and if I can make this relationship work, I want that. More than anything.