Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“You’re with me.” He grabs a hat that says Knight Security on it and places it on my head.
“No one is going to believe I work in security.” I laugh.
“They might think you're a computer systems person.” I love that he’s thought this out.
“If you say so.” I slip from the SUV and watch Jackson get to work. He walks the perimeter of the home, checking on different things. He did the same at my house and installed a few sensors on my windows.
He told me there was still more to be done. I wonder if he’ll finish it tonight. I might sleep better knowing my home is locked up tight. Probably not as good as I slept when Jackson was in my bed before my small freak-out, but it’s a start.
When we make it back to the front, a pretty blond woman is standing in the doorway waiting for us. Now if anyone has a dollface, it’s this woman. She's gorgeous. She’s all done up from her blond hair having perfect wavy ringlets to her makeup being flawless. Even as an artist, I still struggle a bit with applying my makeup. I think because I always feel as though I am hiding what some might call imperfections, but they’re what actually gives a person a bit of character.
“Jack! It’s been forever.” She rushes forward, her heels clicking on the stone entryway. Her dress molds to her curves. She’s dressed pretty fancy for just hanging around at home. Maybe she has a date later or an event to get to. I watch as she tries to wrap Jackson in a hug but he pulls me in front of him.
“Faith, I hear you’re having some problems. I brought Bell to assist me.” Did Jackson just use me as a human shield? The woman pays me no mind. Not that she has to. She’s so tall in her heels she can look right over the top of my head.
“You know how it is. This big house gets lonely, and sometimes I think I hear noises. I don’t trust anyone but you to check it over.” Her eyes finally drop to me. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with having others in my home.”
“Bell is with me. She comes in or we’re leaving.” Jackson’s tone is firm, letting her know there is no other choice.
“Fine.” Faith laughs it off. “Always so assertive.” He is. It’s one of the most alluring things about Jackson, and I’m sure to this woman too.
Jackson guides me into the home as my mind starts to wander. This woman is obviously interested in him. I get it when you really take Jackson in. He’s handsome, clearly good at everything he does, sweet, and the man can cook.
I glance down at myself in jeans and a sweater. My sneakers have a few spots of paint on them. Faith follows us through the house, jabbering on about a million things. I don’t pay her much mind.
At the moment, all I can focus on is that maybe Jackson isn’t as into me as I thought. He rushed over to help his sister and now this woman. I think he’s just a good man, and he’s trying to do right by me to make sure my home is secure. I think I’m reading way too much into his playful flirting.
Slowly Jackson works his way through the home, checking everything. The outside of the home might be boring, but she does have some pieces of art done by artists I recognize. I don’t even need to see their signature to know who they belong to.
I freeze when we enter an office. Over the fireplace is a piece of my own. The Garden of Freedom. It was a landscape I’d done with fall shifting over to winter. The petals of all the flowers breaking free, the wind taking them somewhere new.
“It’s beautiful.” I jump, not having realized that Jackson had come to stand beside me.
“You like?” Faith asks. “The designer who decorated the house got it. I was thinking of replacing it until I was told the artist's pieces are getting more valuable every day. I’ll hold on to it for now. I’ve been trying to see about getting more pieces.”
“If you ever want to sell it, let me know,” Jackson tells her. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of it.
“I’ll do that. Maybe we could talk about it over dinner,” Faith suggests, giving him a seductive smile. She really wants him. I can see it in her eyes. She doesn’t appreciate the art; for her it’s about having what someone else doesn’t. That's why she’s trying so hard with Jackson too. My stomach turns. Why is this getting to me so much? Jackson isn’t mine. He’s free to do whatever he wants. That’s what my mind is saying, anyway.