One More Day (8 page)

I need all the nice I can get right about now.

“He was a real gentleman. He seemed a little flirty at times, but never made a move. I figured he was waiting until after he wrapped up my case before asking me out. But for the longest time he said he was hitting nothing but dead ends. Then last week, he came by my house one morning and told me he was on to something big. This was before the accident.” She lowered her eyes.
 

“The accident?” Jackson asked gently.

He fell silent but kept his hand on her shoulder. Such a small sign of support but it made it a little easier for her to talk knowing he was on her side. She’d spent the past two hours trying not to think about how her life had recently gone up in ashes.

Literally.
 

Maybe if she talked about it, she could get past the mind-numbing fear.

“He asked me to hold this for him.” She pulled the pendant from beneath her shirt. “I thought it was a little odd. After all, if he was worried about it being stolen where he was going, why didn’t he just leave it at home? But I was on my way to the bank anyway, so I decided to just put it in my safe deposit box. I ended up on the road behind him. I saw when his car skidded and went through the guardrail.” She swallowed, just the memory of it enough to steal her breath.
 

Jackson shook his head. “That must have been scary.”

“I called the police and then tried to climb down to get to him. I didn’t know how steep it was and I fell. When the police arrived, they helped pull me back up.” Unconsciously, her hand fluttered to her wrist, where the bruises were still visible. “I could see him in the car. I kept asking the police to get him out but they couldn’t. The car was already on fire by then. We had to wait until fire and rescue arrived.”

“I am so sorry.”

Their eyes met and she couldn’t look away. He raised a hand to her face and pushed a stray curl behind her ear. But he didn’t step back after that. He seemed fascinated by her hair, rubbing the strands of a fat curl between his fingers.
 

“Raina —”
 

“My name is Ridley. Ridley Wells.”
 

He released her, reluctantly. “Wait, what?”

“I just wanted to tell you, that is…” She twisted the bottom of her shirt in her fist. “Raina Winters isn’t my real name. I changed it.”

It was silly, actually. Almost borderline neurotic that it bothered her to hear him call her by her sister’s name.
This doesn’t absolve you
, she told herself. After all, she was still lying to him. But this evening with Jackson was one of the best she’d had in a long time. As stupid as it was, she wanted him to know her. The
real
her.
 

She stepped closer and placed her hand on his chest right over his heart. “I like you, Jackson. I just want you to know the real me.”
 

“I want to know the real you, too. Ridley.” He whispered it as if testing out the sound. “I like it. It fits you. Beautiful, strong and as unique as you are.”

“Thank you.” She exhaled. Maybe she could just tell him the whole story? He actually seemed to understand.
 

“I’m glad you told me. Most of the women I meet are so fake. They just lie to get what they want but you are so different from what I expected.”

Oh, wow
. Ridley cringed.
So much for that.
She wasn’t sure how to even respond to that. How was she ever going to explain what had happened? He’d probably just think she was a pathological liar and throw her out.

After a few moments of awkward silence he asked, “So, what happened after that?”

She pulled away and walked over to the window to look out into the night. It was dark, and she couldn’t see much other than the shapes of the trees in the backyard.

“When I called the FBI agent on the case today, he told me that David was involved with some pretty sketchy people.” She smiled weakly.

Jackson crouched down until she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Hey, hey. It’s going to be okay.”
 

“But it’s not okay. That’s why I ran yesterday.” At Jackson’s puzzled look, she continued, “I didn’t tell them that David was killed because of
my
case. He’d found a lead on my father. The FBI saw David meeting with a member of the Moreno crime family. What if that was his lead? What if Alberto Moreno is my father?” Her voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hand.

He pulled her against his chest and rubbed a hand up and down her back. It was a completely platonic move but it warmed her, inside and out.
 

“We don’t know that. It could be completely unrelated.”

“But it makes sense. It explains why my mom didn’t want him to find us and why she was so bitter. It even explains why we moved so much. She spent her entire life on the run from him and because of what I did, he might know where we are now.”

She tried to hold herself rigid, not to lean too heavily into his unexpected embrace, but her willpower was no match against the warmth he offered. Her shoulders sagged and she leaned against him, boneless, as tears streamed down her cheeks.
 

“Do you mind if I ask my brother, Elliott, to look into it? He owns a security firm up in D.C. and has contacts within the FBI. He’ll be able to find out what’s going on. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I wish I knew what to do about this necklace. It must have been pretty valuable if David was worried about it being stolen.”

“Do you want me to put it in my safe?”

“You have a safe?” At his nod, she reached up and unhooked the clasp at the back of her neck. “Thank you, Jackson. I’ll have to get in contact with the FBI again and find out how to return it to his family.”

“Not tonight you don’t.” He put the necklace in his pocket and ran his hands up and down her arms. “Tonight you just need to relax.”

She wasn’t used to men being so attentive unless they wanted something. But his hands never strayed from her arms and he didn’t try to pull her any closer. As she turned to look up at him, Jackson’s lips brushed over her hair. She wasn’t entirely sure he’d meant to do it but the contact seared her straight down to her toes.
 

After the first rush of emotion passed, she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed to have gotten so emotional in front of him. Jackson had the perfect life. Why would he want to hear all about her problems? He was gorgeous, successful and seemed to know exactly what he wanted.
 

Which, of course, just made her feel even more pathetic in comparison.
 

 
“I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I feel like my life was finally starting to fall into place. But then this happened so, here I am. Hiding out.”

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. No one will think to look for you at my house, and you’ll have plenty of time to figure out your next move. Stay with me.”
 

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Do I look like I mind? It’ll be fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You are ridiculous.” She pulled a paper towel from the holder on the counter and dabbed at her eyes. "I didn't mean to dump all this emotional crap on you."
 

“You're not dumping. I asked for your story, didn't I?"

“That was probably more than you bargained for. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my screwed-up life.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, myself included.”

Ridley scoffed. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

“You think I’m just saying that?” Jackson tilted his head and regarded her through narrowed eyes. “My last girlfriend was only using me to get a record deal. Oh, and the last album I produced was such a flop that I’m pretty sure the only people who bought copies of it are my mom and dad.”

Ridley stared at him, momentarily stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know you’re not the only one who screws up sometimes. No one is perfect. All we can do is go forward and try to do better.” Jackson tipped her chin up until she met his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I meant what I said. You’re more than welcome to hide out here for as long as you want.”

Ridley’s eyes went wide, then she licked her lips nervously, unsettled by the warmth of his strong fingers touching her face. He went still as well, as if surprised by his own actions. Then he backed away and cleared his throat.

“Sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m, you know, hitting on you. I’m sure you get more than enough of that.”

Warmth spread through her at his words. “It’s no problem,” she whispered.
 

 
She wasn’t normally the damsel in distress type but it had been so nice to be held. Comforted. If that was how he hit on her, she could do with a little more.

"Now, what do you say we just hang out and watch a movie? Neither one of us is going to think about anything heavy for the rest of the night.” He grinned at her and she found herself smiling back.
 

“Okay, I can do that.”

They cleaned the kitchen in amiable silence. Then Jackson turned to her and said, “Ready to go?" and held out a hand to her. She was startled into grasping it. He squeezed gently and pulled her after him into the living room.
 

She sat on the couch as he flipped through a stack of movies until he found the one he wanted. A warm, contented feeling settled over her and Ridley was tempted to allow herself to get swept up in the magic. To snuggle deep into the cushions of the couch and pretend this was her normal life and Jackson was her boyfriend.
 

Stop it, Ridley.

Jackson seemed like a nice guy and he’d done nothing but offer her help. But she’d learned the hard way over the years that no one did anything without wanting something in return, eventually. It wouldn’t do for her to get too attached to him or too accustomed to having his help. This was a temporary stop just like every other move in her life and when she moved on, she’d do it the same as always.
 

Alone.

*
 
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“I CAN NOT believe he just said that!” Raina was curled up on the opposite end of the couch giggling.
No, not Raina
, he reminded himself. Ridley.

Apparently Raina Winters was more than just a stage name. It was also a persona she used to hide her real personality. No one would believe the perfectly coiffed, man-eating Raina Winters was really a shy, sweet girl who giggled at slapstick comedy. Jackson picked up another piece of popcorn from the big bowl on the table next to him and threw it at her.
 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen a Will Ferrell movie before.” Jackson shook his head in mock dismay and turned back to the TV.
 

While outwardly he was paying attention to the onscreen antics, in truth he only knew what was happening because he’d seen this particular comedy several times before. He’d spent most of the last hour staring at Ridley. Entranced by her smile. Captivated by her laugh.

And hard as a rock by her smooth bare legs brushing up against his.

Ridley turned and caught him looking. She grinned and kicked him playfully, her foot landing square in the middle of his stomach.
 

“Oooof. What was that for?” Jackson captured her foot, partially to keep her from knocking the wind out of him, and partially to keep it from drifting any lower and giving her proof of just how much he
wasn’t
paying attention to the movie.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to say thanks. For suggesting this.” She motioned toward the television where Will Ferrell’s character read the news while wearing a ridiculously large fake mustache. “This has been, hands down, one of the crappiest weeks of my life. But somehow, I don’t know, it doesn’t seem as overwhelming anymore. A movie and some laughs with a friend are exactly what I needed.”

A wicked part of him couldn’t resist asking, “So, we’re friends, huh?”

Her eyes widened slightly before a shy smile spread across her face. “I thought so…” she trailed off.

“I’m just kidding. Of course we’re friends. As long as you aren’t a Dallas fan.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” she teased.

“La, La, La.” He covered his ears and pretended he couldn’t hear her.
 

Something inside him warmed as he watched her turn back to the movie and let out another giggle. Gone was the wary, distrustful girl he’d originally met. He doubted many people got to see the real Ridley, with her bulletproof, mental armor stripped off. Which was one more reason that his dick had to take a backseat.
 

She wasn’t the kind of woman you slept with for a night.
 

She was the kind you watched stupid comedies with and told jokes to make her smile. The kind you held in your arms until she fell asleep. The kind who deserved a man who could love her with his whole heart, not the tattered remnants that currently took up space in his chest.
 

Since he knew he wasn’t fit for any of the above, he was honored just to be her friend.

“You know what?”
 

 
She turned at the sound of his voice and raised her eyebrows. As she settled back on the pillows of the couch, her wild hair spilled over the edge, a riotous cascade of curls. She was so stunningly beautiful in that moment that he couldn’t speak. When he finally found his voice again, he couldn’t remember what he was going to say before, what excuse he was going to use to escape from the temptation of her laughter and her smile. So he just went with the truth.

“This is exactly what I needed, too.”