He pointed to his forehead. “I like the bang thing. And shoulder-length fits your face.”
“Are you trying to use flattery to get me to go out with you?” With most men, flirting felt as stiff and phony as cheap leather sticking to the back side of her legs on a hot summer day. With Jackson, the kind words coated her body with a soft, foamy lather that, when washed away, still lingered with a refreshing tingle.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I am impressed you noticed,” she said. “I suppose I should give you points for that.”
He shrugged. “I have five sisters.”
“Ah, that explains a lot,” she said with a laugh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He leaned against the railing, folding one arm across his chest, while sipping his coffee.
It was the first time she’d noticed any hint of annoyance in his tone and body language.
Stop sizing him up. He’s your neighbor, not a client.
“Your taste in furniture, for one.” She pointed to his front door. “I mean, I’ve never met a bachelor who has a place that looks like it should be the centerfold for Lake Living. It looks like you had it staged with how the leather sofa sits a few inches from the back wall and the matching chair at a ninety-degree angle in the corner by the stairs. And don’t get me started on the picture over the couch. A man would not pick out an authentic image of the lake. No, he would have picked out dogs fishing or some such crazy thing.”
“You’re picking on me for having good taste?” He dropped his hand to his side and grinned.
“Oh, good grief. No.” She shook her head. “It’s just that the first time I walked into your house, I thought I entered a showroom. Or worse, my mother’s living room, where nothing can be touched without wearing gloves.”
“My sisters did the whole thing. I just unloaded the crap off the U-Haul using my brute strength and put it where they told me.”
“For some reason, I think you had a lot of say in the décor.”
“A little. I mean, one of my sisters is an interior decorator, and it’s rubbed off on me.”
“That’s cute. Are you all close?”
His smile widened, and his dark eyes sparkled like the moon dancing on the waters below. “Actually, we are. But they all live in Delaware, where I’m originally from. I’m hoping to get them up here with their families for the Fourth of July. It would be a lot of fun. My sisters are all pretty loud and very protective of me.”
“Really? Isn’t it the brother who is supposed to defend their sisters’ honor?”
“I’m the baby.”
Laughter floated easily from her throat. She enjoyed Jackson way more than she should. For the last year, she’d admired him from a distance, but she wouldn’t let herself get too close. He was the kind of man who could break through her carefully crafted defenses, and she wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone.
Not yet.
Not until she knew that she’d given her little girl a better a life.
Since her father died, she hadn’t had much time for dating. Getting her PhD had been one hell of a ride. She still didn’t have time for a man, but she could use a friend. “The youngest of six and the only boy. Perhaps we should talk about that and how it’s affected your adult life.”
“Don’t start your therapy stuff with me.” He pointed to the broken mug on the table. “Can I get you a refill?”
“I was hoping to see you this morning. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“That sounds ominous.” Jackson had a rugged look about him. The deepening wrinkles around his eyes indicated a man who had seen a few things in his life. She figured him to be in his late thirties or very early forties—not that much older than her. Not that it mattered.
He wasn’t too tall, maybe five-ten. And he had a kind heart and didn’t mind showing it. If she were any other woman, she’d probably be falling at his feet.
Instead, she just drooled over him in private.
“I’ll be right back. I just put a fresh pot on,” he said.
She stared at the side of his house, avoiding the lake and the boat. She had overreacted, but it wouldn’t be easy seeing a constant reminder of what her father had done to her or what she’d been forced to give up.
“Here you go.” Jackson handed her a cup. The bitter aroma filled her nose like pure, unsweetened cocoa. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
She laughed. “I’m actually having dinner with my stepmother, but maybe we can have a drink after.”
“Are you actually agreeing to a date?” he asked with wide eyes and a big, goofy smile.
The man was too cute for his own good.
“Not a date. Just a drink with a friend. Say around nine? Right here? We can build a fire.”
“Sounds great to me.” He raised his mug.
“Can I ask you a work-related question?”
“Sure,” Jackson said.
“Do you ever take on cases for friends?”
“All the time. Why?”
She stole a peek at the sailboat. That night had changed her life in more ways than one. “I’d like to hire you.”
“For?” He set his coffee on the railing, easing closer, leaving his arms dangling at his sides.
He must have taken a ton of psychology courses because he knew exactly how to put someone at ease. Anyone would bare their soul to this man and not even know they were doing it.
She let out a puff of air. The only person she’d ever spoken to about her daughter had been Annette. Even her mother couldn’t bear to hear about it, always telling Shannon that she’d been a horrible teenager and to pray for forgiveness.
“Two things, actually. I don’t like doing this, but a...a friend of mine missed a lunch date on Friday, and I haven’t been able to reach her all weekend. She’s never done that, and I’m a
