First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jackson

“ T his is my house,” I announce awkwardly as Natalie squeezes past me through the door into the entryway. Dec’s been here before so he flies past her, launching onto the gray sectional that takes up most of the living room.

“Dec, be respectful,” she scolds quietly.

“It’s okay, this is your home now. He can be himself.” I wink at Dec as he plops back into the oversized cushions with a Cheshire grin.

“It’s temporary.” She cuts a glare at me before continuing her assessment of my space. “Everything is so… Neutral.” She spins in a slow circle taking it all in.

The living room opens directly into the kitchen. A large white marble island sits in the middle and the sink overlooks the backyard. The dining table is off to the side where it stays unused.

The walls are white, the furniture is gray, and the appliances are stainless steel. I understand her comment. I don’t have any pictures or color. I’m not home often enough to make it look lived in.

“Um. The fridge is empty so we’ll have to order groceries but, you’re free to use whatever. Dec knows how to work the remote to the TV already.” I stand uneasily in front of the hallway, letting her look around before I show her to their rooms.

“The oven still has plastic on it,” she ponders out loud, looking at the film on the oven door.

“Yeah, I don’t cook much,” I admit.

She looks at me after I speak and there is undeniable curiosity in her eyes. “You have this beautiful kitchen and you don’t cook?”

“It was pretty standard with the build.” I shrug.

“What the hell is this?” She asks after opening the refrigerator doors.

“What?”

“It’s empty, empty. There isn’t any food in here, just Tupperware.”

“Yeah, I really don’t cook. Ever. I order a meal service, coffee, and protein bars.”

She looks at me with her jaw slack. “Oh my God,” she finally mumbles.

I feel my cheeks heat with foreign embarrassment and turn away from her quickly. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

She follows behind me, Dec zooming past us once again. “Look, Natalie!” He goes into my computer room first so we veer left.

“Jackson has a dragon, too!” Dec shouts excitedly, bouncing on the futon.

“Dec! Feet on the floor you barnyard animal.” Her words trail off as she glances at the figure sitting high on a shelf. “You made all these?” Her eyes trail across the shelf full of miniature models and LEGO builds.

I’m more uneasy the longer she stares at my silly craftsmanship, feeling overwhelmingly put on the spot. Even as a grown man I can’t comfortably talk about myself, especially when it’s about something that most people wouldn’t consider mainstream. And, incredibly nerdy.

I haven’t felt this kind of spotlight since I was a child being picked on by the older kids at school.

“It’s just a hobby. I built the computer myself, too.” I motion to the multiple screens set up off to the side, hoping for a distraction. Not that it helps the nerd persona. I am waiting for her first jab at me about it.

“Are you a gamer?” There isn’t any mockery to her tone but she could be setting up for the punchline.

“No, not really. I just like the challenge of piecing something together until it works.”

She stands still for several seconds, looking at each model on my shelf until she finally turns back to face me. There’s no joke, no insult, she only looks at me curiously. She doesn’t say anything and I don’t either. Dec takes that as his queue to start remarking about all the cool things that he would like to build.

“Why did he say that you have a dragon, too?” I ask her between his spiels of chit-chat.

“Oh, he was just being silly. Probably something we had at the apartment.” She exits the room quickly and I follow her across the hall.

“This will be your room, sorry about the cheeriness.” The walls are a pale yellow, the comforter is a yellow floral print, and the curtains correspond. It’s the only room in the house with color. “This was supposed to be my mom’s room before I accepted that she needed round-the-clock care. Yellow is supposed to be calming.”

“I’m sure she would have loved it,” she says quietly, observing the space.

Once again, her niceness is putting me on edge. I handle it much better when she’s smart and snippy with me. I don’t know what to do with her gentle side.

“Dec can sleep in here with you, or I can put the futon in here, but he’s more than welcome to stay in the computer room. You guys can use the computer if you need to,” I explain, trying to erase the tightness in my chest that I’ve felt since she stepped through my front door. This situation is awkward for both of us.

“My room is on the other side of this wall,” I motion to my left. Right next to where you’ll be sleeping, I add in my head.

This might be harder than I originally anticipated.

After they get their bags out of her car and get settled, Dec gets comfortable on the couch watching an old Spider-Man movie while Natalie and I work out the kinks of our living arrangement.

“You don’t want me to pay rent?” She asks skeptically.

“It’s not necessary.”

She eyes me questionably as I sit on one of the bar stools. She’s opposite me, standing on the other side of the island.

“Groceries?”

“Not necessary.”

“Jackson, this is ridiculous. Seriously?”

“I want you to save all of your money for a lawyer. I’ll ask around for a good one, the best one. That should be your only focus.”

“I still need to pay you back for the hotel.” Her head is tilted and her arms are crossed, preparing to battle. I should be worried, but if anything it eases me.

“Consider it settled. Okay? Stop worrying about money.”

“That is an insane thing to ask me to do. All I’ve been doing my entire life is worrying about money. Especially this past-” She lowers her voice out of earshot of Dec. “Especially this past year,” she whispers.

“I know. Let me help you now. Only until you get full legal custody of Dec. Then you can ride off into the sunset flipping me the middle finger.”

“Two middle fingers,” she corrects under her breath.

“Fine, whatever. You need to quit your job, too.”

“What? I thought you were joking about that!”

“No. The last thing we need is for Declan’s lawyer to bring up your occupation in court. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve tried to smear a woman for her profession.”

“I make coffee! I’m not a stri-” She pauses again to collect herself. “I’m not a stripper,” she whispers.

“I know that but one photo of you in your underwear at work and they could use it against you. I’m not saying that it’s right. I’m telling you the reality.”

“This can’t be real.” I see the lack of color in her face. She understands what I’m saying but it doesn’t mean it’s fair. “It’s the only place I could find around here that would let me work between 8 and 3. I only know food and bev. I don’t even know where to begin looking for something else.” She hides her face in her hands and all I want to do is comfort her. I don’t though, it would only unleash her fury.

“I can cancel my housekeeper. Pay you instead?”

She blinks rapidly at me but doesn’t say anything at first. I can’t tell if she’s considering it or if she’s about to bite my head off for suggesting it.

“No. No, we’ll clean up after ourselves but I don’t want to be your housekeeper,” she replies quietly. Her eyes wander around the kitchen, stopping on the fridge. “I can cook.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to order your meals. I can cook.”

“That would be a lot of work. I eat a lot.”

She shrugs. “I love to cook. I went to culinary school in New York.”

It’s my turn to be stunned. I had no idea that’s why she was in New York but I guess I don’t know much about her at all.

“You’re a chef?”

She laughs sadly. “No. I was two weeks from graduation when-” She glances at Dec and I read it loud and clear. She had to come home for Dec.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He was worth it.”

“That might be the case but if it was your goal…”

She waves me off. “My dream was to work as a private chef on big expensive yachts. I wanted to set out for months at a time and leave everything behind.” She sighs. “It was only a dream though. My goal now is to give him a childhood that he doesn’t have to recover from.”

“Nat- Natalie,” I plead with her. “Once everything is settled, you should pursue it again. Maybe no yachts, but you could still make a living, and be happy.”

She shakes her head in response but mumbles, “Maybe.”

She shouldn’t have to give up everything. She deserves a life too.

“I’ll give you $1000 a week to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for six days. I’ll cancel my meal service and whatever you don’t use for groceries, you keep. Deal?”

Her jaw drops. “That’s way more than I made at the coffee shack a week.”

“Good, then you won’t miss it.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just about people seeing my ass?”

My jaw clenches even thinking about other people seeing her ass, but no, it’s also about Dec. “If you’re worried that the change will be too sudden, you can always wear your uniform here.” I motion to the kitchen.

“You’re a pig.”