This Crazy Love: Swoon Series Read online

  As these thoughts spun through my mind like tumbleweeds blowing across the road, Jackson searched my face. I was a little tipsy from the wine I shared with Dani, probably not the wisest move on my part. Normally, my defenses would be on high alert. They almost always were.

  I’d been tied up in knots and on edge for so long, being somewhere I could feel safe had me forgetting to keep my defenses up. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let my heart get hopeful again. I foolishly believed I could manage it.

  All of my promises and foolish beliefs went up in smoke with Jackson standing in front of me. The young, teasing man I’d once shared a wild kiss with was all man now. He nearly set my body on fire. My knees were wobbly and my breath came in short little pants.

  Without thinking, I reached out, tracing my fingertip along his jawline, savoring the prickle of the stubble.

  “What are you doing, Shay?” Jackson asked, his low drawl rolling over me like honey.

  My inhibitions, which I sorely needed about now, were long gone. I could feel the heat of him when I stepped even closer. The girl I’d once been, the girl who I had thought lost, came sauntering back inside of me. Before everything went wrong, I’d been rather brash and bold. I thought that part of me was long gone. Life teaches hard lessons sometimes. It can even steal bits and pieces of who you think you are.

  Just now, I was surprised to learn another lesson. Parts of myself I thought lost had simply been buried. Not lost, not gone. That bold, brash girl was different now. I was older and wiser, and I certainly had bitterness swirled into my spine. Yet, in spite of that, for the first time in a long time, I felt playful and brave.

  “What are you doing, Shay?” Jackson repeated.

  My fingertips trailed down along his collarbone. His skin was warm to the touch. “Touching you,” I said, a fizzy joy rising inside and spinning like glitter into the desire, caught fast in its shimmering force.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” he replied, his words almost careful.

  Cocking my head to the side, I arched a brow. I knew I was pushing the limits here.

  I might’ve been foolish and made incredibly disastrous decisions in my past, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew Jackson wanted me, because I could feel it like a pulse between us. I could also see his arousal pressing against his jeans.

  “Says who?” I countered.

  I let my fingertips travel over the round curve of his shoulder and onto his chest, which was lightly dusted with hair. I could feel the steady, rapid beat of his heart under my palm.

  He still didn’t move away, and the air thickened around us. I was feeling downright wild now, bordering on reckless. Yet, all we were doing was standing in the kitchen.

  I didn’t know how to read his gaze. I knew I saw desire flickering there, and something else. In a way, I didn’t care to read it. I was too caught up in this moment, almost giddy at the realization things I had written off—fierce need and desire—might actually be possible to experience.

  Jackson muttered something, and then his hand was sliding into my hair and his mouth collided with mine. At first, it was a hot jolt, the point of contact fierce and rough. One hand glided down my back in a heated pass, while his other hand cupped my nape, his fingers teasing in my hair and sending hot shivers through me. His hold was both strong and gentle, all at once. Exactly what I needed.

  When I sighed, his tongue slipped in between my lips. I hadn’t forgotten my one kiss with Jackson before. That had been brief and hot, so jolting I hadn’t known how to absorb it. This was different.

  This was the most intense kiss I had ever experienced in my life. Slow, sensual strokes of his tongue, his mouth hot on mine, the catch of his teeth on my bottom lip, a teasing bite at the corner of my mouth. A molten, searching kiss that nearly undid me.

  I was on fire, need scattering like sparks through me.

  There was an odd sound, something resembling a squeak. The sound barely punctured the haze clouding my mind, but Jackson gentled our kiss before dusting a few soft kisses along my neck and lifting his head. I was stunned, almost surprised to find myself still standing.

  There was that squeaking sound again. Suddenly, I realized what I’d just done and was mortified. And more turned on than I had ever been. If Jackson hadn’t broken our kiss, I was quite certain I’d have demanded he take me right here in the kitchen.

  “It’s Squeaky,” he murmured, his breath teasing along my ear and sending goose bumps chasing over my skin.

  He held me close, and I loved it. I wanted to burrow into his strength and stay there forever. “Squeaky?” I asked his chest.

  He laughed softly as he loosened his hold, and stepped away. “Yeah, Squeaky. See,” he said, gesturing behind him.

  I had met Squeaky earlier today when Jackson took me on the tour of the rescue area. “What’s she doing in here?” I asked, as I turned to see the little pig standing in the doorway, a round white and black pig with her cute brown eyes blinking at us.

  “Like I mentioned, she gets loose,” he replied, as he knelt down and held his hand out. “When we first got her, Ash kept her in the house because she was little and she needed to be fed a lot. She’s kind of spoiled.”

  Squeaky walked slowly and deliberately to Jackson, stopping and blinking up at him as Jackson knelt beside her. She looked over at me, so I leaned over and dragged my palm gently over her back. After another squeaking sound, Jackson stood and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a container with sliced apples. He handed her a slice, and she nibbled it up quickly.

  Meanwhile, I stood in the kitchen, all kinds of hot and bothered, wondering what was more ridiculous. The fact that I came onto Jackson, and he kissed me senseless, or the fact that we’d been interrupted by a pig.

  Chapter Eight

  Jackson

  I leaned against the fence, watching as the horses trotted from the paddock by the barn toward the far corner in the pasture. Mischief had spent the night out there because that was usually his preference. He lifted his head, nickering softly as the rest of the horses approached him.

  We were one of the few rescue programs that took horses in the area. Ash wanted to keep them all, but then she would keep every rescue that landed with us. I occasionally needed to point out that if we kept every animal we rescued, we would eventually be at capacity.

  We tended to keep the ones she was most in love with, and those who fit in easily. Although Mischief could be considered a troublemaker, he was a good-natured gelding and got along well with all of the other horses. His mischievous nature related to his frustration with being penned up in a stall for any length of time. I surmised that came from his early days as a wild colt.

  Mischief was a Banker horse, the breed of horse—or rather, pony, based on size—that lived wild on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The wild horses were left to roam free on the islands as they had for centuries. They were descendants of Spanish horses, and small and hardy. They were largely left alone, with a few exceptions. Monitored by the National Park Service and a few private organizations, horses were occasionally culled due to illness.

  Mischief had been culled from the herd, when both he and his mother were failing after she gave birth to the point there was concern both may not survive. Mischief was taken to a local vet and eventually made his way here when they were searching for a place for him to stay. We later learned his mother recovered on her own.

  Meanwhile, Mischief, despite his small stature, was the boss of the herd here. He had a playful streak and was often teasing his fellow pasture mates. He was approaching four years old now. In his case, I was attached to him and had no plans to find another home for him. I intended to try to break him in soon. I idly wondered if Shay would want to ride him. She had been over here often when she was young, riding any horse her parents would let her climb on.

  I thought Mischief would be a good fit for her. He was on the small side for me to ride, but he was just right for her. They had similar personalities, a
bit guarded with an edge of feistiness.

  I wondered at first if her feisty side had been snuffed out. After last night, I was quite certain that wasn’t the case. I’d spent most of today trying to forget that crazy, hot kiss in the kitchen. I was still torn between disappointment that Squeaky interrupted us, and sheer relief.

  I’d never forgotten our kiss years ago. There had been an indefinable, burning hot spark. But we’d been young, and I knew Remy would’ve strung me up if I made a play for his sister. It was enough of a mistake that I even let that first kiss happen.

  So much had changed since then. It almost felt as if I were a different man when I kissed her this time. I was busy telling myself Shay was the reason why I couldn’t let anything happen between us, but there was more to it.

  She was my best friend’s little sister. Sure, we were all adults now, but still. Tangled up inside that was what I knew she’d been through. Whatever happened for Shay next, she deserved a man who could give her everything. A man who could honor her and what she was—sunshine and steel, light and darkness, boldness and vulnerability.

  I couldn’t be the man she needed and deserved. I was quite certain it was best for me to stay a bachelor. I knew loss, far too well. It had been carved into my soul, etching bitterness and grief and leaving behind scars. I didn’t need someone loving me and hoping for more, not when the darkness still claimed me at times.

  With a mental shake, I pushed away from the fence and turned to head back to the barn. I was downstairs, literally counting bales of hay, when I heard footsteps coming down the hallway and Wade leaned in the doorway.

  “Hey, boss, you think you have a few minutes to go over some scheduling stuff with me?” he asked.

  Glancing up, I nodded. “Yeah, let me just finish this.” I tapped in the last few numbers on my phone and turned to him. “Let’s head to my office. I hate trying to look at the calendar on my phone for this stuff.”

  “Lead the way,” Wade replied, following me down the barn aisle.

  We headed up the stairs, turning into the hallway that led to the offices for the vet clinic. I nudged open the door to the office, my gaze catching sight of the papers scattered across the desk. I bit back a sigh. The administrative details associated with running the vet clinic, the lodge, and the rescue program were my least favorite part of the job.

  Snagging my laptop, I slipped into a chair at the small round table in the corner. “Have a seat,” I said, gesturing for Wade to sit across from me.

  I had hired Wade the first summer I returned home. Although I hadn’t known him when I was younger, his family was from the area and lived on the outskirts of Asheville. After college, he’d traveled all over. He came with plenty of experience as a first responder, having mostly worked at a few outdoor resorts out West, running mountain climbing and hiking trips. He was totally dependable, easygoing, and a damn hard worker.

  “Okay, let’s take a look,” I replied, as I pulled up our schedule and calendar. Aside from running the kitchen, Dani handled most of the scheduling through online bookings. She was a big fan of color-coding. At first, I thought it was silly. But I grew to love it. At a glance, I could look at the colors and know just how booked up we were.

  Case in point, right now, I looked at the calendar and saw nothing but blue. Blue meant a date was booked with guests at the lodge, or any range of activities we coordinated for guests.

  “Fuck.”

  Wade threw his head back with a laugh. “Exactly. We’re booked. Starting next week, we got nothing open straight through summer, all the way to the end of October. I’m cool with that, but I guess we should decide if we want to add on some more guest cabins.”

  Pushing my laptop away on the table, I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. “I guess so. Problem is finding the time to make it happen.”

  “With Shay here helping with the rescue, does that free up any time for you?” Wade asked.

  “Definitely some. But”—pausing, I gestured to the computer in front of us—“you’re busy as hell. With that many dates booked, I know you’ll be leading hikes galore. As it is, we talked about adding somebody to help with the overnight camping trips. Damn, this has gotten busy faster than I expected this year.”

  Wade cracked a smile, running a hand through his shaggy brown curls. “Told ya.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you did.” Leaning forward, I pulled the laptop back across the table, clicking out of that calendar into my personal calendar. This one showed my vet schedule.

  Scanning it and clicking through the next few months, I could see the two days a week allocated for the clinic appointments were booked too. Since Ash was gone, gallivanting around following her rodeo boyfriend, I had picked up a few of her regulars. As a result, my schedule was getting tighter and tighter. I kept hoping Ash would stop wishing for more, but I knew better than to say anything. As it was, I had to bite my tongue too damn much when it came to her boyfriend. He’d never laid a hand on her, but I hated his laissez-faire attitude. She deserved better, but she reminded me again and again that they weren’t serious. Whatever the fuck that meant.

  “Well, I just won’t add any more vet days,” I commented. “I’m sure I can find time to work on those cabins here and there. I’ll tell Dani to put up an ad, so we can recruit someone else to help with the hikes and whatnot. We need more help if we’re booked solid.”

  “That’ll work. I figure we can patchwork in between our crazy schedules to finish at least three or four of those cabins by the end of the summer. I’ll do the grunt work with the guys, and you make it pretty,” he said with a wink.

  “Hey, I can do the grunt work too.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t make high-end stuff like you.”

  After I got back from the war, I couldn’t handle downtime. I needed something to do with my hands all the time. Aside from working myself to the bone, I started woodworking. What some people found tedious, I found soothing. It wasn’t something I wanted to do more than occasionally, but I enjoyed putting the finishing touches on custom cabinetry and furniture. I didn’t do it as much lately, in part because I was too damn busy, but also because I had found some shaky peace in the last year or so.

  Wade’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Aside from helping with the rescue, anything else Shay can help with?”

  “That’ll keep her busy, but I’m gonna ask Dani to chat with her about handling some office stuff and the online end of things. Shay’s pretty good with computers.”

  Wade nodded. “Just a heads-up, that new temp we hired to help clear the new pasture has got his sights set on her.”

  I had no idea why the hell Wade thought I’d give a damn. I knew he’d likely seen Shay’s name splashed in the news when her ex got arrested for assaulting her. We hadn’t spoken of it, but for anyone who paid even a little bit of attention to the local news, it was impossible to avoid. Her ex’s father was a long-time politician in North Carolina. Clint Glover Sr. had every expectation his son would follow in his footsteps. Then, he nearly beat Shay to death in the parking lot of the condominium complex where they lived in Chapel Hill.

  The news had speculated for weeks on just what she’d done wrong to trigger the whole mess. Then, Clint Jr. slammed into a car while he was drunk, killing two people. That news eclipsed the story about him and Shay. Thank fucking God.

  For some reason, hearing that anyone even noticed Shay that way set me on edge. A bolt of possessiveness hit me. I had no right to lay any claim on Shay, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit around and watch somebody else sniff around her feet.

  I held Wade’s gaze and arched a brow. “Seriously?”

  Wade rolled his eyes. “Hell yeah. He’s just a kid fresh out of college, young and horny. And she’s beautiful. Also, none of my damn business, but if you were hoping it wasn’t obvious that you had a thing for her, it’s really obvious,” he said bluntly.

  One of the things I loved about Wade was he didn’t tiptoe around anything. However, at the mome
nt, I found that tendency slightly annoying.

  I shook my head. “Shay is beautiful, but that doesn’t mean I have a thing for her. Whatever the hell that is. And you’re right, it’s none your damn business.”

  Wade chuckled. “Nice to see somebody get to you.”

  “Hey, why don’t you worry about your own love life?” I countered.

  “I don’t have one, dude.”

  “You and Dani.”

  Wade went quiet for a few beats, his lips thinning and his eyes narrowing. “There is nothing going on between me and Dani.”

  “You just keep bullshitting. Maybe you’ll convince yourself sooner than the rest of us.”

  Wade chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure. Word of advice, though,” he said as he turned.

  “What’s that?”

  “Maybe not the best move to have Shay shacked up in the house with you. Unless you plan to do something about her.”

  At that, he left my office, closing the door behind him. Roughly a minute passed when I realized the last thing I needed to do was sit in my office and try to focus on the work I had the most trouble paying any attention to. Ash and I had been discussing hiring an actual office manager, and I toyed again with the idea of talking with Shay about it.

  What should’ve been an easy conversation had trepidation running through me. Shay affected me too easily. For the most part, or so I liked to tell myself, I had battened down the hatches inside. After my time in Iraq, I knew I would never lose the sense of pride I carried with me. My father and my grandfather had both served in the Marines. I had followed in their footsteps, straight into a Special Operations team. Yet, one mission had left me with scars on my body, my heart, and my mind.

  Teasing out the sensibilities of something like a relationship was out of the question. I had nightmares occasionally and still struggled with a sense of deep grief. I knew I was shut down emotionally and that was perfectly fine with me. I was at loose ends after I returned from the war. I would’ve traded my dad being alive, but inheriting the farm had given me something to focus on, a sense of purpose.