All Who Dream (Letting Go) (24 page)

BOOK: All Who Dream (Letting Go)
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When I
spoke to Briggs a couple of days ago after the interview crisis, I’d left
Jackson out of our conversation—now I realized why I had. Briggs was a great
brother, no doubt, but he would always see me—no matter how old I was—as his
sister.

Standing
now between two alpha males was enough to make me sweat through my clothing.
Thankfully, Charlie broke the ice yet again and asked where Cody was.

“He’s
inside…he’ll be so excited to see you guys,” I said.

Briggs
grunted.

Jackson
stared.

Shoot me now.

Charlie
put her hand on the doorknob and looked back at us. “Why don’t we all do
breakfast together in the morning—Jackson, can you join us?”

His eyes
danced in delight at the request. For the life of me I would never understand
how he could thrive in the midst of awkwardness—yet he did.

“That
sounds great.” He looked at me again. “Just let me know where and when. Thanks
for the weekend, Angie.” He leaned in and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek
before adding, “And don’t forget your promise.”

Jackson
nodded at Briggs and then turned and walked away. For a split second I
contemplated running after him. If not for Cody, I would have. Any escape would
have been better than the upcoming conversation with Mr.
Perma
-scowl
himself.
 

Briggs
crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope you aren’t too tired after your
weekend getaway, ‘
cause
suddenly I’m in the mood for
conversation.”

“Lighten
up, Briggs. I’ll tell you everything, okay?” I pushed him a little to knock a
smile back onto his face.

“You bet
you will.”

With
that, my evening had officially begun.

**********

After Briggs and Charlie settled into their room, we went
to dinner at one of the local pizzerias two blocks over. Cody filled them in on
our adventures at the lake house—specifically his paddleboat rides. Though
Charlie had looked interested, Briggs had looked irritated. I held out on
Cody’s bedtime for as long as I could, but one could only put off the
inevitable for so long.

We sat now
in the small living quarters of my apartment, staring at each other.

“Spill
it. What’s going on with you and Romeo,” Briggs said, leaning his elbows on his
knees.

“Briggs—
give
the girl a chance,” Charlie scolded, turning to me and
smiling. “He seems very nice,
Ang
…and he’s not hard
on the eyes either.”

I laughed
as Briggs shook his head.

“Well, to
be really honest, I’m not totally sure what to call it yet. Nothing is
official, but…there is definitely something there. I wasn’t looking for
this—and he wasn’t either.” I laughed, thinking about the first night we met.
“But I feel something very real for him.”

Charlie
swooned, cupping her hand to her heart and leaning back against the couch.
Briggs was silent—never a good sign.

“Angie, I
am so excited for you! When did all this start? What’s he like? What have you
guys talked about for the future?” Charlie asked, her voice getting higher and
higher with each new question.

“Charlie—we
don’t even know this guy! How can you so blindly encourage a romance you know nothing
about?” Briggs threw his arms in the air as I shushed him, pointing to Cody’s
door.

“I
haven’t said anything to Cody yet,” I said, quietly.

“Apparently,
you haven’t said anything to anyone, Angie.”
Briggs
whisper-yelled, which caused Charlie to giggle.

I rolled
my eyes at him. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, Briggs. I know you want to
protect me, but Jackson is
not
Dirk,
and I am no longer a stupid eighteen-year-old girl. You aren’t the only one who
has learned the hard way in life. I have too. I would never jeopardize Cody, or
myself—you know that, right?”

He held
my gaze and nodded. “Angie, I know you aren’t the same girl who chose Dirk, but
I won’t pretend that the idea of you in a relationship doesn’t scare the crap
out of me—because it does. I don’t even know him!” He stood up and started to
pace, running his hands over his face.

“Then get
to know him.”

He stopped
walking and looked at me.

“I don’t
know what the future holds, Briggs, but these last four weeks have changed
me—in here,” I said, pointing to my heart. “I used to think that I was too
tainted by my past to ever
feel
for
someone what I feel for Jackson. I used to think I was too broken—too
damaged—to ever be seen as more than just a victim, but I don’t believe that
anymore. If God is as good as I say He is to all my girls at
The Refuge
, than I choose to believe
that He can redeem anything and anyone.
Even me.
My
story is still being written Briggs, and for the first time in eight years, I
want someone to share it with.”

Charlie
reached for my hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I believe in redemption
too, Angie, and I believe that love can heal pieces of our hearts that we never
even knew were broken.”

Briggs
looked at his wife and smiled lovingly, pulling at his neck the same way
Jackson did when he needed to relieve tension. He looked at me and sighed.

“I’ll
give him a chance, Ang.”

I knew
that statement was difficult for him to say, and I wasn’t about to push him
further on the subject. Not being in control was scary—it scared me, too—but I
knew his fear ran deeper than that. Not only had he seen my ex-husband try to
murder me, he was also the one who saved my life. I would never deny Briggs a
voice; he had more than earned it.

I could
only hope that his faith would outweigh his fear.

**********

As we took a cab to see meet Jackson by a pancake house
he’d suggested, I felt my nerves grow with anticipation. After my passionate
speech last night, I woke up with a head swirling with doubt. Everything that
had happened with Jackson over the weekend still seemed so surreal. I
questioned now if my feelings for him could possibly be reciprocated.
Had I been so desperate for him to like me
that I had imagined more on his part than what was actually there?

I hated
how much of a girl I really was sometimes.

But when
I saw him, my worries quieted. I smiled as he gave Cody a high five, ruffling
his hair as he walked past him to our table. Jackson caught my eye and held it
as if I were the only person in the room. The warmth in my chest radiated to my
cheeks as he met me. Though Briggs and Charlie stood close, Jackson was
undeterred as he lifted my hand to his lips.

“Good
morning, Angie,” he said.

“Good
morning.”

He turned
to each of my family members and offered the same greeting, while keeping my
hand tucked in his. As we walked together to the table, Jackson whispered in my
hair, “I missed you.”

And
then…my doubt was gone. I hadn’t imagined him.

“So,
Jackson, tell us everything you know about the publishing business…” Charlie
started.

I laughed
as Jackson squeezed my hand underneath the table. He humored her all through
breakfast, answering her questions and asking several in return. Briggs played
along, too, winking at me when Jackson turned his head to speak to Cody. I knew
it wasn’t a full-approval, but it was close. It was progress.

Progress
was a great place to start.

Jackson
ever so slyly paid the bill before it was ever brought to the table. This, in
turn, earned several more points in Charlie’s book—as if there was ever a doubt
where her loyalties were when it came to my love life.

“I’d like
to offer my driver tomorrow when you head back to the airport. The town car
will be more comfortable than a cab,” Jackson said.

I smiled
as he spoke to my brother, shaking his hand as we stood to leave.

“Thanks—that’d
be great,” Briggs said.

When I
turned around to speak to Charlie, she was no longer behind me.

“Where’s
Charlie?”

“Uh—she
had to use the restroom,” Briggs said, his eyes roaming everywhere other than
my face.

“Okay…why
are you acting so weird?” I asked.

“I’m
not,” he said, suddenly taking an interest in his shoes.

Charlie
came back a moment later and met us in the lobby of the restaurant, her face
pale.

“Hey…are
you sick?” I asked, touching her shoulder.

She shook
her head, looking up at Briggs who seemed to be asking her a silent question
through his eyes.

“What?
What’s going on?”

Charlie
bit her lip and leaned against Briggs who smiled like a kid on Christmas
morning.

“She’s
had a bit of an issue with breakfast lately.”

I gawked
at Charlie for confirmation.

“I’m
eight weeks pregnant.”

Chapter
Twenty-Eight
 

As I
hugged my sister-in-law, I could feel Jackson’s laser-focused gaze on my face.
I ignored his stare the best I could; I didn’t want to feel what I knew his
look would provoke in me. Instead, I launched into a list of questions for her:
When’s your due date? Who’s your OB? How’s your morning sickness?

Each and
every question was a deflection from the painful reminder that lingered
somewhere in the back of my mind:
I’ll
never have another baby.

“Want to
hear something even crazier? Tori—Kai’s wife—is also pregnant. We’re due four
weeks apart! It’ll be so fun to have a
prego
-pal,”
Charlie said, grinning wide.

The pit
in my stomach grew larger by the second, but I pushed it down, refusing to
acknowledge its presence.

“I’m so
happy for you, Charlie.”

“Our
first ultrasound is next week. I’ll have to text you a pic since you’ll still
be here.” Charlie linked arms with me as we walked to the curb to hail a cab.
Jackson, Briggs and Cody were right behind us.

“Please
do.”

As the
cab approached, Jackson pulled me back as my family piled into the back seat.
His eyes were intense, so I focused instead on the open button at his collar.
He never wore ties.

“Angie.”

“Hmm?”

He hooked
a finger under my chin, forcing our gaze to meet.

“I see
you,” he said softly.

I could
only
blink,
too afraid my voice would give me away.
I’d spent years redirecting the pain, and I wasn’t about to show it now and
ruin a moment of happiness for someone I held so dear to my heart. That
wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I’m in
meetings all day today, but I wanted to make sure you got
Pippy’s
text about this evening?”

I nodded,
giving him a weak-smile.

“Okay,
I’ll see you tonight then.”

He
touched my arm and gave it a squeeze, aware of the audience around us, one
small set of eyes in particular.

“Sounds good.”
I spun around, slid inside the backseat of
the cab, and shut the door quickly. I couldn’t stare into Jackson’s eyes for a
second more. I needed to push through.

“Feeling
up for some sight-seeing and art museums?”


Oooh
, yes, good call!” Charlie said at the same time as
Briggs groaned.

We
laughed in unison, driving toward Times Square to catch the tour bus.

Pippy
had texted early this morning to let me know my day
was wide-open. She had taken the liberty of canceling my bookstore signings—as
I’m sure she’d been instructed to do, along with arranging a special night for
Cody, as a send-off back to Texas. I was glad she would get to meet my brother
and Charlie. For now, that is what I would fill my mind with: busyness.
Tomorrow’s meeting, surprise pregnancies, and Cody’s goodbye party, would all
need to take a back seat.

I could
only process so much information at one time.

**********

Oh.
Sweet.
Mercy.

Pippy’s
idea for tonight might have been perfect for Cody,
but coming off a long weekend, and then a day spent sight-seeing around the
city, all I wanted to do was sit in a hot bath and close my eyes—for about a
year. Instead, I was at an arcade the size of Texas with a thousand and one
people running about. When I sat down at the table she reserved for us, I was
fairly certain I wasn’t going to be able to get up again. I was
beat
tired.

“Mom, mom!
Uncle B and Peter are
gonna
take me to play Fast and Furious, okay?”

“Sure,
sweetie,” I said, putting my head down on the table and giving him a thumbs up.
I just needed a second to regroup, recharge. I gave
Pippy
and Charlie my debit card and told them to order whatever they wanted food-wise
for the group—I knew if Jackson were here I’d never get my way. I hadn’t been
allowed to pay for anything in weeks. It was well past my turn.

I tried
to drown out the noise around me by closing my eyes and taking several deep
breaths.

“A little
noisy for a nap, don’t
ya
think?”

I smiled
at the sound of Jackson’s voice and scooted over. While keeping my head propped
on my arm like a pillow, I peeked out from my cozy hideaway to see the gorgeous
face.

“How was
your day of meetings?” I asked.

He smiled.
“You’re horrible at deflection.”

I
shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to deflect, Jackson. I was
simply
 
interested
in your day.”

“Meetings
are meetings, nothing of interest there,” he said, slouching down in the booth
a tad to kick his feet up. I noticed then that he’d changed his clothes. He was
no longer Corporate Jackson but Casual Jackson. And I’d grown to love that
version quite a bit.

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