Page 20 of Don’t Fall for your Best Friend's Brother

“You don’t like wedding talk, I take it?” I say, lifting a beer from a huge barrel filled with ice.

“Oh, no. I don’t mind it. In fact, here’s a weird fact. I talk about it more than she does.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs. “I’m excited. I’m man enough to admit it. Bree makes me happy. Since she walked into my life, I feel like I have a purpose again. My life isn’t just work and sleep, with no substance.”

“Wow,” I say.

I’m impressed with the progress Jackson has made. That ex-wife of his really did a number on him. I remember the dark days he suffered for months afterward. I remember the anger that swirled within him, something that was in stark contrast to the easy-going, happy guy I had grown up with. I also remember him beating himself up for making such a stupid mistake. Pretty much the way I am now. So, it’s good to see him happy again, and even better to hear that he’s moving on.

I glance over and notice Bree standing beside Emma and Sylvie.

It’s at this moment that I see a familiar face. But I’m confused because I know he doesn’t belong here. “What’s Nick Fenton doing back?”

Jackson curls a lip, expressing the same sentiment I have for the man. “His aunt died a couple of weeks ago. He was here for the funeral.”

I remember Nick from school. He left the town in his late teens. In my opinion, the town was all the better for his absence. My gut begins to churn when I see him making a beeline for the women. I’m watching him look Emma up and down out of her line of sight. She looks just as pretty today as she always looks. She’s wearing a black flowery dress that sits just above her knee. A thin black choker sits around her throat, and she’s donning the Doc Martens that I’m accustomed to seeing her wear. They seem to suit every outfit she puts on. Whether it be a plaid skirt, a black summery dress, or denim jeans.

Nick has now approached the three women, and I don’t like it. “What’s he doing talking to them?”

“I see you have the same aversion to him as I still hold,” Jackson says.

“In my opinion, leopards don’t change their spots,” I growl.

“Yes. I know what you mean.”

Nick Fenton was a jock at school. He was also pretty good at manipulating the girls. In fact, he got himself quite a reputation. Those girls who couldn’t be with him, wanted to be with him, and those girls he had used and discarded, couldn’t stand the sight of him. In fact, he was known as a bit of a snake. I’m bristling now, as he talks to Emma, and shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, wondering if we should go over.

“Do I sense a little jealousy, Finn?” Jackson says.

When I look at him, there’s a slight smirk dancing at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just worried about Emma. I wouldn’t want to see the woman get hurt. She’s very much like Sylvie. Naïve and innocent. I would go so far as to say, vulnerable.”

“Yes, Bree said she picked up the same thing when they went out for lunch. She said she was quite lovely, but clearly a little shy and reserved.”

“That pretty much sums her up,” I agree.

Jackson looks at me again, and I know what he’s thinking, but I’m not going to bite. I know he wants me to expand on what else I think about her, but Sylvie’s warning is at the forefront of my mind. I can’t say I don’t find Emma attractive because I’d be lying, but I’m in the middle of my own mess right now.

“Would you feel better if we went over there?” Jackson says.

“Much,” I say with a nod.

“Then let’s go. You can introduce Sylvie’s British friend to me, given I am yet to meet her. Perhaps, with a little competition, Nick Fenton might move along.”

“You know, we could be wrong about the guy,” I say, swiftly backpedaling. Maybe I’m doing Nick Fenton wrong by assuming he’s still like he once was. We’re all adults now. It’s been over twelve years.

“Meaning?” Jackson turned to face me, his expression full of inquiry.

“Well,” I shrug, “people do change, right?”

“You think Nick Fenton has turned over a new leaf? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I don’t know. But it’s possible. You have to admit, it has been a long time.”

“Are you ill?” Jackson says, the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No, Jackson,” I quip back. “I feel perfectly fine.”

“All right,” he says easily. “Just checking. Come on. Let’s go.”

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