and often.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t give relationship advice to anyone,” he finally said.
“So, what are your personal issues when it comes to marriage and long-term commitments?”
Her question surprised him, and he didn’t have an answer that he was willing to share with her. “I just don’t think I’d do it very well,” he replied. He gave her an irreverent smile. “You know, so many women, so little time,” he said flippantly.
Her emerald eyes narrowed as her gaze held his. “I wonder what baggage you’re carrying around.”
He leaned back in his chair with surprise. “What makes you think I have baggage?”
“Maybe it’s like sensing like,” she replied. “I know what my baggage is and I think I’m not the only one seated at this table who might have some issues.”
He could easily fall into the depths of her eyes— so green —and he felt as if her gaze was so intense she was looking inside his soul, seeking answers he had sworn he would never give to any woman.
She finally broke the gaze and glanced toward the window, where the sheer curtains couldn’t cover the darkness of night that had fallen while they’d talked.
“It’s getting late and we need to get an early start in the morning. We have a lot to accomplish tomorrow. It’s time for me to head home.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, wondering how the conversation had gotten so personal so quickly. He’d have to be more careful—she was far too easy to talk to, and there were far too many secrets and shames in his life to let down his guard.
They both got up from the table, and the windows in front of them exploded inward. Instinctively Jackson grabbed Marjorie and pulled her to the floor.
He rolled her to the opposite side of the room, where they would be partially shielded by the edge of the bed as the tat-tat-tat of an automatic weapon resounded and bullets shredded the curtains, slammed into the walls, and furniture splintered.
He lay on top of her while the world around them exploded, and knew that there was nothing more he could do but wait and pray that when the shooting stopped they would both still be alive.
* * *
P ICTURE FRAMES SMASHED and fell from the walls, and Marjorie braced herself for a piercing bullet to find her, even though Jackson’s body covered hers.
She could feel his heartbeat, as rapid, as frantic as her own, and the shooting seemed to last forever. A squeal of tires was audible from the broken windows, and after that, utter silence.
For several long moments they remained in place, hearts racing against each other’s, the slight scent of pepperoni coming from him. He finally rose slightly and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I...I don’t know,” she admitted truthfully. “I’m not shot, but I’m a little dazed.”
Siren screams filled the night, drawing closer, and the scent of cordite was thick in the air. “I wondered what it might be like for me to be on top of you on a floor or in my bed, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said.
She shoved him off her and he stood. “Do you always have sex on the brain?” she asked as she got to her feet. “Don’t you realize that somebody just tried to kill us?”
Cherry swirls just outside the motel room indicated that the police had arrived. Jackson grinned at her. “Snapped you right out of that daze, didn’t I?”
He was right. The fogginess in her brain was gone and she was acutely aware of everything. “It was probably some heartbroken woman who followed you here from Baton Rouge to put a bullet through your black heart.”
“Or could be a man you cut off at the knees with your attitude and sharp tongue,” he replied.
At that moment several officers raced into the room, guns drawn and terse expressions on their faces. “You both okay?”
“No,” Marjorie replied. “He’s an egotistical ass.”
“And she’s an uptight witch,” Jackson said. “But other than that, we’re both fine.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t give relationship advice to anyone,” he finally said.
“So, what are your personal issues when it comes to marriage and long-term commitments?”
Her question surprised him, and he didn’t have an answer that he was willing to share with her. “I just don’t think I’d do it very well,” he replied. He gave her an irreverent smile. “You know, so many women, so little time,” he said flippantly.
Her emerald eyes narrowed as her gaze held his. “I wonder what baggage you’re carrying around.”
He leaned back in his chair with surprise. “What makes you think I have baggage?”
“Maybe it’s like sensing like,” she replied. “I know what my baggage is and I think I’m not the only one seated at this table who might have some issues.”
He could easily fall into the depths of her eyes— so green —and he felt as if her gaze was so intense she was looking inside his soul, seeking answers he had sworn he would never give to any woman.
She finally broke the gaze and glanced toward the window, where the sheer curtains couldn’t cover the darkness of night that had fallen while they’d talked.
“It’s getting late and we need to get an early start in the morning. We have a lot to accomplish tomorrow. It’s time for me to head home.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, wondering how the conversation had gotten so personal so quickly. He’d have to be more careful—she was far too easy to talk to, and there were far too many secrets and shames in his life to let down his guard.
They both got up from the table, and the windows in front of them exploded inward. Instinctively Jackson grabbed Marjorie and pulled her to the floor.
He rolled her to the opposite side of the room, where they would be partially shielded by the edge of the bed as the tat-tat-tat of an automatic weapon resounded and bullets shredded the curtains, slammed into the walls, and furniture splintered.
He lay on top of her while the world around them exploded, and knew that there was nothing more he could do but wait and pray that when the shooting stopped they would both still be alive.
* * *
P ICTURE FRAMES SMASHED and fell from the walls, and Marjorie braced herself for a piercing bullet to find her, even though Jackson’s body covered hers.
She could feel his heartbeat, as rapid, as frantic as her own, and the shooting seemed to last forever. A squeal of tires was audible from the broken windows, and after that, utter silence.
For several long moments they remained in place, hearts racing against each other’s, the slight scent of pepperoni coming from him. He finally rose slightly and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I...I don’t know,” she admitted truthfully. “I’m not shot, but I’m a little dazed.”
Siren screams filled the night, drawing closer, and the scent of cordite was thick in the air. “I wondered what it might be like for me to be on top of you on a floor or in my bed, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said.
She shoved him off her and he stood. “Do you always have sex on the brain?” she asked as she got to her feet. “Don’t you realize that somebody just tried to kill us?”
Cherry swirls just outside the motel room indicated that the police had arrived. Jackson grinned at her. “Snapped you right out of that daze, didn’t I?”
He was right. The fogginess in her brain was gone and she was acutely aware of everything. “It was probably some heartbroken woman who followed you here from Baton Rouge to put a bullet through your black heart.”
“Or could be a man you cut off at the knees with your attitude and sharp tongue,” he replied.
At that moment several officers raced into the room, guns drawn and terse expressions on their faces. “You both okay?”
“No,” Marjorie replied. “He’s an egotistical ass.”
“And she’s an uptight witch,” Jackson said. “But other than that, we’re both fine.
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