Perfect Contradiction (10 page)

Jackson Sharp had been stayin’ at the inn for almost a week when I realized how much I was enjoying his company. It was nice to have a guy around. We ate breakfast with each other each morning and dinner with each other each night. Each afternoon, he’d show up just about the time my second wave of bakin’ was finished and carry all my trays out to the bakery case for me. It was useless for me to argue with him. He would just grab a cherry hand pie when he was finished and say
the fringe benefits are well worth it
with a cocky grin and a wink.

“I don’t know,” I said as I rubbed my hands together to keep them warm.

“It’s pretty big,” Rachael said.

I nodded. It was
huge
.

“You said to get a nice tree.” Jackson waved a hand to the ginormous tree with a grin. “So, I got a nice tree.”

“I don’t think it’ll fit,” I said seriously.

Jackson scoffed and motioned for Rachael and me to get out of the way.

“Watch and learn, darlin’,” he answered. I shook my head. Men were so stubborn. Jackson got the tree inside, situating near the piano and the front window. Rachael helped him hold it steady as he got it secured in place. Both of them wouldn’t let me even think about helping. I rolled my eyes and stood back, itching to do something.

Once the tree was just perfect, according to Jackson and Rachael, we all went over to the other side of the room to see how it looked. I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of Jackson’s smile. Oh lordy, I was going to have to say it. I sighed and crossed my arms over my stomach.

“Alright. You were right, Jackson Sharp. It’s perfect,” I admitted. Rachael was giggling, and Jackson had the good sense not to rub it in.

“So, can we start decorating it?” Rachael asked. I smiled over at her and nodded. She squealed and ran to get the boxes we’d brought out of storage earlier in the day.

“She is very excited to decorate that tree,” Jackson commented.

I snorted.

He glanced over with a questioning look. “What?” he asked. “What did I miss?”

I smiled and walked over to sit down on the sofa where we’d put a huge container of popcorn to be strung for the tree. Jackson followed me and sat down. I shrugged.

“If you think Rachael is excited about stringin’ popcorn and decorating that tree, you’ve got no clue,” I said as I began pushing popcorn kernels onto my needle and thread. Jackson picked up his own threaded needle and set to work as well. Stringing popcorn for that big a tree was going to take some time.

“So, clue me in,” Jackson said near my shoulder. I stiffened just a little at his nearness. Jackson Sharp was all man and completely overwhelming sometimes. Sad truth was that he had no idea.

“You,” I answered with a tiny shrug, not meeting his eyes.

“Me?” he asked. “You gotta give me more than that, darlin’,” he said gruffly.

I sighed. “She’s got a crush on you,” I said plainly. Jackson didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I stopped what I was doing and glanced over at him. He looked astonished. I laughed and slapped his knee.

“She’s a kid,” he said in horror.

I rolled my eyes. Truly clueless. She’s a
teenager
. Too young for you, but just old enough to wish she wasn’t,” I said softly. “And don’t you dare act weird around her. She’s a good kid and she’ll be a good woman one day, best not to crush her hopes,” I said seriously, but with a hint of mischief. Jackson had made himself an easy target.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to fall out of favor with the lady of the inn,” he added softly.

Heat rose to my cheeks but I batted his words away. He was playing around. No one could be serious about a woman huge and pregnant with another man’s baby. At least, I didn’t
think
they could. Rachael came bouncing back into the room before I could give it much more thought. For that, I was grateful.

“So, how about we watch a Christmas movie while we decorate the tree?” I suggested. “I have a stack of movies we can choose from.” Jackson and Rachael both seemed to think it was a great idea, so I got out my holiday movie collection and sat it on the table for them to choose from. I kept stringing popcorn while they laughed over each other’s choices and reenacted scenes from the ones they each had dubbed the “best Christmas movie ever”. I brought out egg nog and the special Christmas cookies I’d made for everyone, and we all settled on
A Christmas Story
as the movie of the night.

After a lovely evening of decorating, movies, and good conversation with friends, I sat back with a mug of hot cocoa and
another
gingerbread cookie. I sighed happily as I looked at the tree. It was trimmed in colored lights, silver bells with bows, strung with popcorn, and had a variety of bulbs and ornaments my mother had gathered over a lot of years. Tons of that messy, silver tinsel hung from the tree as well. A tree wasn’t complete without that stuff. A pretty, twinkling white star topped it. I smiled when I remembered Rachael trying to tell Jackson where to move it to make it “perfect”. I’d laughed so hard I’d almost wet myself. It had been a wonderful time. Now Rachael had gone home, Jackson went to pick up some stuff he needed in town, and I was there just enjoying the view of my Christmas tree.

Rachael was going to be an amazing young woman when she realized how beautiful and smart she was and how much she had to offer the world.

Jackson was going to make some woman very lucky one day.

And I… I was content.

It only took about three weeks after I showed up at church in my most baby bump-revealing maternity dress before something I’d been dreading actually happened. I knew it was just a matter of time, but once nothing happened after the first two weeks, I kinda got my hopes up. But sure enough, after three weeks post-church reveal and about ten days after Jackson Sharp had been stayin’ at the inn… it happened.

“I hope I’m not upsetting you,” McKenna said, biting her lip. The picture of innocence. “I just thought you should know.
I’d
want to know if it pertained to me,” she added in for good measure. I clenched my jaw and then took a second before I answered. I was putting away all my classroom supplies right after Sunday school class. The kids had been making macaroni art to take home with them. Ironically enough, they covered a large “P” for patience.

“Of course, McKenna,” I said after a moment. “Thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.” Pasting a huge smile on my face, I continued cleaning up the room. I glanced back over to where I left her standing. She hadn’t gone anywhere. She was hoping I had something to say out of anger or spite or whatever, but I wasn’t about to give her more gossip and hatefulness to spread around.

“You should head on over to the main building,” I said sweetly. “I’d hate for you to be late. I still have some cleaning up to do here before I can join you.” Without waiting for a reply, I strode off into the supply closet with my elbow macaroni, glitter, and glue bottles. When I came back out, McKenna was gone.
Thank God
.

I sank down into a kiddie chair and took my time getting a hold of my emotions. So, some of the mothers were talking about how they didn’t think it was right or moral that an unmarried, pregnant woman was teaching their children’s Sunday school class? That someone who was a
godly
and good
example
for their children should be doing the job.
Ouch
. It hurt a little more than I expected it to, even though I
had
expected it. I wasn’t sure even Beth had thought something like this would happen… but I had. I’d prepared for it even. Still… it stung.

I heaved myself out of the kiddie chair—that had been a mistake—and grabbed my bag and purse off the desk near the door. Turning out the lights, I turned to look over the classroom. I loved my time with the class twice a month, but I’d already planned how I’d react weeks back. Walking slowly back to the main building, I sat in the back pew of the church. The mom of one of my kids sat two rows ahead of me. She saw me sit down and turned around quickly to whisper something in her sister’s ear. Both of them had kids in my class. I snorted under my breath.
As if
. Shelly Yancey had her little boy five months after her own shotgun wedding, but you didn’t see me refusing to teach her kid or gossiping about that during services. I had no doubt they were some of the pot-stirrers, but it didn’t matter one bit. If parents at the church didn’t think I was fit to teach their kids, then that was that. Who was I to argue?

The services seemed to drag by intolerably slow. When they were over, I hung around until most of the church had emptied out before asking to speak with Pastor Wright.

“What can I do for you, Jennifer?” Pastor Wright asked from behind his large desk. I smiled at him. He was a good man and a great pastor.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to give up my Sunday school class,” I said.

Pastor Wright sat forward, seemingly shocked. His eyes widened though, and I knew what he was thinking immediately. He would have let me step down if he thought I was being bullied or because people were gossiping. He was a very good man. I didn’t give him a chance to ask me any questions though.

“It’s just that with the inn, I’ve got a lot on my plate,” I started. “I’ve been working almost every day, including Sunday evenings, just to keep caught up. Even with hiring part-time help, I’ve got a lot going on.”

Pastor Wright sat back in his chair. “Are you sure that’s it?” he asked, watching me closely. “I know you love teaching those kids, and I must say… you’re one of our best teachers. The kids adore you, and they learn a lot when they love a teacher like that.”

I smiled. I did love those little terrors. “I’m sure… well, besides the obvious, I mean,” I said, patting my stomach.

“Yes, I imagine that keeps you even more tired,” he said carefully. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

I nodded. I actually did know that.

“And if it’s something you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about, Mrs. Wright is always available. Night or day.”

I nodded again, feeling a little more emotional than I was comfortable with right then. “Thank you, Pastor,” I mumbled softly.

“We feel as though you’re a member of our family, Jen,” he said gently. “Take advantage whenever you feel the need, just like all our other kids,” he said with a smile.

I snorted. “I’ll remember that,” I said with a sniffle as I stood.

“See that you do,” he answered.

I left the church sad that I wouldn’t be teaching twice a month any longer, but kind of glad to get it over with. There was nothing else anyone could take from me, nothing else anyone could do or say to make me feel bad about who I was or my baby. I kind of felt… relief. It didn’t last long though.

By the time I got home, I was seething again.

Freaking jerks had no right to judge me
! I thought. Where was their Christmas spirit? Evidently nowhere in sight even with Christmas only ten days away. I hoped they all got coal in their stockings.

I guess I didn’t realize exactly how upset I was until I found myself baking dozens of mini pies and muffins at midnight that evening. I huffed. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do, might as well get a jump on the Monday mornin’ baking. I set to work, oblivious to everything around me, just wanting to quiet my thoughts and emotions.

“Everything okay down here?”

I was so in the zone and deep in thought as I searched through my cabinets for the last dozen or so mini pie tins I knew I had somewhere, that I hadn’t heard Jackson enter the kitchen. I squealed like a little girl half scared out of her wits.

“Holy crap, Jackson, give a girl a heart attack why dontcha?” I said, narrowing my eyes in his direction.

“Sorry about that,” he answered with a slow grin.

My eyes widened when I realized what he was wearing… or rather
not
wearing. Low-riding pajama bottoms and no shirt. My mouth suddenly became dry. I shook my head and turned back to my cabinet.

“What are you doin’ down here anyway?” I asked. Jackson had been staying at the inn for almost a week now, and he was due to check out in a day or two. I had to admit I was gonna miss having him around. He was kind and funny, and we’d shared dinner and breakfast together every morning and evening. He was easy to talk to and a very steady sort of man. I liked that about him.

Jackson laughed.

I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced back over at him, trying with all my might not to stare at his very nice chest instead of his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked. I frowned, not following. “You’ve been taking a lot of frustration out on those pans and cabinet doors for a few hours now,” he said with a smile.

“Oh my lord. What time is it?” I asked softly. Jackson walked over to me slowly. I stood from my kneeling position in front of my cabinets.

“Nearly five AM, I’d wager,” Jackson said, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” I whispered out a breath. “I am so sorry, Jackson. I did not mean to keep you awake all night.”

He reached out toward me, and I stiffened. His smile widened, but my breath caught in my throat.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’,’ he said softly. “Let me just get some coffee in me,” he said, his deep voice vibrating along my nerve endings. His arm snaked around me as he pushed the power button on my coffee machine. I blushed and stepped out of his reach. It’d gotten too warm near the coffee pot suddenly. Jackson’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he smiled widely.

“I can’t believe I baked straight through the night like that,” I said, glancing around the kitchen. Apparently, I’d decided in my haze of anger to fight to control it and get a jump on the day’s baking and then some. Hand pies, mini pies, cookies, muffins, fudge, and tons of other goodies lined every surface in my kitchen.

Jackson began laughing. I whipped around to face him, my cheeks aflame.

“Jackson Sharp, don’t you dare laugh!” I reprimanded. “Now what am I supposed to do with all this food?” I asked, a hand on my hip.

“Darlin’, you won’t have a bit of trouble selling off every last pie, you take my word for it,” he said as he walked slowly over to me. “You just flash everyone that beautiful smile of yours, let ‘em catch a whiff of the magic you make in your kitchen, and they’ll be eatin’ out of the palm of your hand.”

My eyes widened when his hand came out to touch my face. His thumb caressed my cheek, and a small dimple appeared along with his lady-killer grin.

“You’ve got some flour on you here,” he whispered huskily. I blinked once and then twice before my thoughts were coherent enough to understand what he said.

“What’s wrong, darlin’,” he asked gently, still cupping my cheek.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted, blinking back tears.

“That you are,” he agreed.

“I gave up my Sunday school class so I wouldn’t cause any trouble for the pastor of my church after some people began talkin’,” I admitted, turning my face and eyes away from him.

Jackson turned my face back around gently and tipped my head back to meet his gaze. “They’re all just jealous,” he murmured.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Jealous of what?” I asked seriously. I put a hand on my stomach. “Of this?” I whispered.

Jackson placed his free hand on top of mine on my stomach. “Of course,” he answered immediately. “Jealous that you’re pregnant with a baby bound to be as beautiful as his or her momma, jealous that you’re smart, strong, and a successful business owner. And jealous because they know you’re the type of woman who doesn’t get beat down when life throws her a curve ball. Instead, you readjust your game plan and become the best one-man team in the US.”

I blinked up at him. “That was a very good sports analogy,” I said with a grin.

“Why, thank you, ma’am,” he answered with a chuckle.

And suddenly, I was aware that I was in the warmth of Jackson’s embrace. I was in my pajamas, and he was barely dressed. He must have realized the same thing at about precisely the same moment. He leaned in slowly, cautiously. I didn’t stop him. I knew I should, but I just didn’t want to. His mouth caressed mine gently, exploring. It was…
nice
. It was eye opening. I pulled back gently in a daze.

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

Jackson loosened his grip on me and put a little space between us. “I thought we’d already verified that,” he said after a moment. He searched my face before taking a step back, raking a hand through his disheveled hair.

I cleared my throat in an effort to clear my mind. “I’m going to grab a shower and get dressed for the day,” I said softly. Jackson nodded. “Grab one of those cherry hand pies I know you love to go with your coffee if you’d like,” I said with a small smile.

“A woman after my own heart,” Jackson said gruffly.