An Offer He Can't Refuse (22 page)

~~~

Jackson sat at his desk and rubbed his stubbled chin as he stared at the Bingham contract in front of him. For three days and two nights he’d been living in his office, sleeping on the couch and for the most part, sitting in this very spot, hovered over a bunch of papers and files on his desk.

His back ached. Hell, every part of his body felt as if he’d been run over by a truck. What was he doing here? He’d been staring at the same damn papers for too long. He didn’t even know what he was reading, for God’s sake.

The phone rang—it had been ringing for hours, maybe days. He ignored it.

Today was August twentieth. He ripped the page off of his calendar, crumpled the piece of paper in his palm, and tossed it into the wastebasket.

Today was Madison’s birthday; his wife’s birthday.

He opened his desk drawer, shuffled around until he found what he was searching for—the annulment papers Heather had wanted him to sign.

Looking heavenward he said in a weary voice, “Walter, what am I supposed to do now?”

With little sleep, his brain felt as if it were made of scrambled, twisted wires. He couldn’t read the words in front of him, but he could see Madison’s face as clear as day. What was she doing? What was she thinking? He’d been wrong about her from the start. No, he amended, he’d been right about her. That was the problem. He knew the moment he laid eyes on her that she wasn’t the person Heather had made her out to be. But he hadn’t allowed himself to believe it.

They’d laughed together, lived together, made love together, and yet he’d let her walk away. How many men out there in the world had met a woman who made them feel magical and alive, only to let her walk away because of some asinine fear of commitment? Only a fool would do such a thing. Was he a fool?

As he pushed the papers aside, a ticket stub for the horse races caught his eye. He’d found it on his desk the day Heather had come to see him about filing the annulment papers. Examining the ticket, he wasn’t even sure why he’d kept the stub instead of throwing it away. He crumpled the ticket and tossed it in the garbage.

Determined to get something accomplished, he tried once again to concentrate on the work in front of him, but the ticket he’d just thrown away called out to him.

He retrieved the stub from the basket and stared at it for a moment longer, trying to figure out why it would hold his attention. Las Vegas. Horse races. Heather.

His heart thumped against his ribs as he thumbed through his Rolodex.
Harry Connors, financial adviser
. He picked up the phone and dialed Harry’s number. Walter had worked with the man for years. Harry and Walter had been good friends, old Air Force buddies. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the box Madison had given him. The one with the ring in it. His birthday gift. Even before she’d given him the ring, he’d known she loved him. She wore her emotions on her sleeves.

A deep voice said, “hello.”

“Harry Connors, is that you? This is Jackson Lang.”

“Jackson, my boy. Mary and I were just talking about you and your brother the other day. How’s everything going?”

“Fine, Harry. I hope this isn’t a bad time, but something’s been bothering me and I thought maybe you could clear things up.”

Jackson held the ring to the light.
I love you
. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Heather Garrett mentioned a couple of months ago that you were still handling Walter’s accounts.”

“I don’t know what that woman is up to now, Jackson, but she cleaned out those accounts less than a week after burying Walter.”

“What?” Jackson’s insides churned. “Why would she do that?”

“You don’t know?”

A knot formed in his gut. “Know what, Harry?”

“She’s had a gambling problem for years. Walter didn’t want anyone to know. He got her help, and for the most part, it appeared Walter had her addiction under control for a while…at least while he was alive. After he died, though, Heather returned to her old ways, heading to the races or Vegas every chance she gets. She cleaned out the accounts. There’s nothing left.”

Jackson took a deep breath.
Walter, why didn’t you tell me
? “Thanks, Harry. That answers my question.”

After hanging up the phone, Jackson pushed the Bingham contract aside. He let out a low growl and then Jamie entered his office with Peter Bingham at his side.

They might as well have been invisible.

“Good news,” Jamie said as he ushered their prospective client toward one of the chairs in front of Jackson’s desk. “Mr. Bingham has made a decision.”

Jackson pinched at the tension building between his eyes. Heather had lied to him from the very beginning. She was, in fact, the conniving, selfish woman she’d tried to make Madison out to be. She’d used Walter, a man he adored, to get what she wanted. Unforgiveable.

Focusing his attention on his brother and Mr. Bingham was impossible.

Jackson realized he didn’t care about the damn contract. The thought made him want to laugh out loud. He didn’t care about anything but the woman he kept picturing in his mind.

Madison in her overalls at the coffee shop, laying down the law. Madison on their wedding day, asking for a dance. Madison wearing a skimpy bathing suit, trying to seduce him. Madison’s warm body wrapped in his arms at night. If he tried hard enough, he was pretty sure he could feel her soft lips on his. She always made him feel loved. She made him feel as if he were the only person on earth who could make her happy. She made him feel special.

The realization that he wanted to spend his life with Madison was not the suffocating sensation he thought he would feel. She loved him with all of her heart--just as she loved those kids. All she had wanted was to be loved back.

It hit him then, as if Dorothy’s house came down from the sky and landed smack on his head. He loved his wife. He didn’t want to live without her. He prayed it wasn’t too late.

Jamie groaned. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“That’s terrific,” Jackson replied. He stood, giving Jamie a wide grin as he shuffled through mounds of paperwork, letting documents and pencils scatter to the ground in the process.

Jamie eyed him worriedly.

“Ah-ha! There you are!” Jackson held up his prize for all to see.

“So glad you could find your keys, Jackson.” Jamie looked at Mr. Bingham and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “As I was saying,” Jamie went on, “I explained everything to Mr. Bingham, told him how we’ve been working on the deal of a lifetime—”

Jackson headed for the door.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Jamie asked.

Holding onto the door, Jackson said, “I’ve got to.”

“Life and death I suppose?” Jamie muttered.

That’s it. Jackson headed back toward his brother so fast Jamie ducked, as if he thought his brother might slug him. Jackson laughed and gave Jamie a big, brotherly hug instead. “You’re brilliant, little brother. Absolutely brilliant!”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jamie replied, smoothing out his new Armani suit.

“Sorry, Mr. Bingham,” Jackson said to the older man, “but it’s my wife’s birthday today and there’s something I have to do before it’s too late.”

Mr. Bingham appeared speechless, but nodded nonetheless.

Jamie glanced at his watch. “It’s too early. The shops aren’t even open yet.”

But Jackson didn’t hear a word as he ran down the hallway.

~~~

Madison opened the door, disappointed to see Mr. Razzano and Heather standing on the other side. “Hello,” she said stiffly, “I didn’t realize you two were such good friends.”

Mr. Razzano’s bald head glistened with sweat. Heather nudged past him, stepping inside. “Well, isn’t this quaint. Feeding the homeless again, I see.”

Madison lowered her voice to a low growl and said, “These kids have never done anything to you, Heather. Another snide remark and I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Patting her perfectly coiffed hair into place, Heather chose to keep her mouth shut for the moment.

“Mrs. Lang,” Mr. Razzano began. “Heather—I mean, Ms. Garrett, came to my office the other day to tell me your marriage to Jackson was the result of an offer you made him in a bar. An offer that was to include the exchanging of money after you received your inheritance. And since it has been brought to my attention that you have moved out of Mr. Lang’s home, I had no choice but to come here today and see for myself what exactly is going on.”

Madison glanced over her shoulder. Jen and the kids had gathered around. They had on their party hats and behind them on the coffee table was a lopsided cake surrounded by gifts made out of paper and love.

She smiled, letting Jen and the kids know everything was going to be all right. They had one another. She’d find a way to help them. “Mr. Razzano,” Madison said, “the truth is—”

“—is that my wife thinks I forgot her birthday,” Jackson cut in, taking everyone by surprise as he headed up the path leading to the front door.

Jackson ushered Mr. Razzano into the house, so he could stand in the doorway and talk to all of them at once. “My wife,” Jackson went on, “is sensitive about birthdays and special occasions. As I’ve never been married before, I had no idea women could be so hardheaded, so stubborn.”

Madison crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to finish.

“As you can see for yourself, she came back here to teach me a lesson.”

Madison opened her mouth to disagree, but Jackson cut her off.

“My wife thinks I don’t understand. She believes I work too many hours. She thinks I don’t love her.” Jackson scratched his whiskered chin. “The honest-to-God truth, Mr. Razzano, is that I can’t live without her.”

A layer of skepticism was quickly replaced with definite interest as Madison listened more intently to the rest of what Jackson had to say.

“Guess what, darling?” he said loud enough to be heard over the small crowd standing behind her. “I love you.”

Heather moaned.

“And I didn’t forget about your birthday. In fact, I brought you a present.” His large frame blocked the entire doorway. He moved out of the way to make room for Adam.

“Adam!” Erin shouted, crying as she ran to hug him. The smaller kids followed suit, swarming around the gangly teenager, happy and relieved to see that their friend, the boy they considered to be an older brother, was okay.

A tear slid down Madison’s face as she went to Adam and took him in her arms, holding him close. He smelled like dirt and sweat and that special Adam scent that was his alone. She’d begun to think the worst, but seeing him now, touching him, brought more than joy to her heart.

Her gaze lifted, filled with gratitude as she peered into Jackson’s eyes.
Thank you
, she mouthed as the other kids dragged Adam away to get the scoop on his latest adventures.

Jen already had Mr. Razzano engaged in a conversation about the sun’s damaging rays and how he should put sunscreen on the top of his head.

Smiling, Madison noticed an unfamiliar sparkle in Jackson’s eyes as he entered the house and moved toward her.

“Where was Adam?” she asked, not ready to know whether his talk of love was real or just another show.

“At the Riverside Cemetery having a talk with his mother. I guess he even stopped by to say hello to Eloise Lang.”

“Your mother?”

He nodded. “I’ll tell you about it later.” Jackson stepped in front of Heather before she could escape unnoticed. “Heather,” he said. “I had a talk with Harry Connors today, and he just called me again a few minutes before I arrived here. He wants to meet both of us in his office first thing Monday morning.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Heather said. “I’ll be—”

Jackson’s dangerous glare stopped Heather from jabbering on.

With a frustrated groan, she nodded her agreement and then walked out the door, leaving them alone, at least for the moment.

Madison peered into his eyes. “What’s going on?” The gold band on his left hand caught her eye. What was he up to? “We don’t have to continue this charade any longer,” she told him. “The kids and I will figure out a way to stay together. We’ve already made plans for bake sales and Katy makes fabulous jewelry. The kids are going to help her design a website so she can sell her hand-crafted pieces. All proceeds will go directly to CFC.”

Fretful lines etched his forehead. “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier?”

“Which part?” she asked.

“The part when I said ‘I love you.’”

“Oh, that.” She nodded her head. “I heard it. I figured it was for Mr. Razzano’s benefit.”

Gazing into her eyes, Jackson swept a strand of hair out of her face and said, “I love you, Madison. You’ve made me feel whole again, maybe for the first time in my life. Poor ol’ Cupid must have used up his whole bag of arrows trying to make me see it. Today, though, one of his blasted darts struck me right here.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I can’t live without you, Madison. I need you.”

He pulled a folded paper from his pocket and said, “I have a lot of explaining to do and someday I hope you’ll forgive me for not believing in you and especially for not being truthful.”

“Jackson,” she said. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

He nodded.

“What about commitment?” she asked. “That awful word that causes you to break into a sweat? I don’t want to be thought of as a burden. I deserve better. I want to be loved and cherished…forever.”

“I’ll always love you. Every day of the rest of my life. And longer.”

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the paper in his hand, needing a moment to unravel her thoughts. She’d spent the last three days convincing herself that she and Jackson weren’t meant to be together. And now here he was telling her he would cherish her for the rest of her life.

“This is the deed to CFC,” Jackson said, dangling the paper in front of her. “I have an offer you can’t possibly refuse.”

“You do, do you?” She’d never seen him look so nervous, so tired, so desperate.

“Come home and be my wife forever,” he said.

It seemed all her prayers had been answered. But still…something was missing. “That’s it?” she asked.