Page 102 of The Usual Family Mayhem

Let the fireworks fly.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Harlan’s posture was the exact opposite of relaxed now. He sat up straight, looking ready to spring. “Your office said you were in a meeting all afternoon.”

“Right. This one.” Jackson skipped right over Brock to smile at Gram and Celia. “This is Micah Bainbridge, the owner of NOI and Kasey’s boss.”

“He’s Brock’s boss, too.” I didn’t need to add that bit but seeing Brock sitting there bubbling with anger and unable to release it made the moment worthwhile.

“We seem to have a misunderstanding about who is handling what issue. We should clear that up now.” Jackson stood there, fully in charge and unimpressed with the hurricane of frustration building in the men at the table.

That thing where I used to think of him as stiff and unbending? A tad dull? Dead wrong. There was nothing boring about this man. His voice, that stance, the way he stormed in here at just the right moment, all said sexy.

He had an air of confidence that never tipped into jackass territory. Intelligent. Competent. So unbelievably adorable. The sexy combination made me feel sorry for his ex, Anna, for losing him. Not sorry enough to say it out loud or find her phone number and tell her, but that woman did miss out.

Harlan stood up. “Jackson, I need to speak with you outside for a moment.”

“Of course.”

Harlan started to move. “We can—”

“After we straighten out this confusion. I know you want to resolve this as much as I do.”

Harlan’s jaw clenched so tight I could hear the snapping sound. “Correct.”

Oh, damn. Harlan would blame me for this. He would never accept that Jackson was a grown man with beliefs and dreams separate from the family name. That he had a strong enough ego to fight when necessary and to back off when appropriate.

Where Harlan didn’t have an off switch when it came to things he wanted, and plowed ahead and pressured, his son had boundaries. And Jackson came out swinging here.

“I called Micah yesterday afternoon about a business opportunity.” Jackson didn’t offer more even though there was definitely more to say.

Celia frowned. “You did?”

“Interesting.” The bulk of the fury drained out of Harlan. His unreadable expression said he didn’t know if he’d won this round or not. “We do have a misunderstanding or a scheduling issue because if I had known we could have combined our talents.”

Jackson had made a promise to me when we stood at that shed two days ago. I counted on him to follow through. That’s who he was. Harlan might be cautiously optimistic and growing in confidence but if my instincts were correct, we were about to see a fiery crash.

Good thing I was sitting down because the fallout from this wreckage could get wild.

“I went directly to the person responsible for making the major decisions at NOI.” Jackson nodded in Micah’s direction. “The man in charge.”

Harlan glanced at Brock. “I may have gotten the wrong impression. I thought Brock was handling this acquisition.”

Micah watched as the conversation unraveled around him. “Handling?”

For once the repeating thing didn’t bug me. Not when Micah aimed it at Brock and wiped the smirk right off his face.

“Neither the sequence of events nor the employee directory of NOI matter right now. The point is, I contacted Micah about a client of mine.”

This time Gram flinched. “Jackson, should we—”

“Let me explain this first, Mags. See, I represent a company that, for years, has been invested in agriculture and forestry in the state. With the age of new environmental awareness, the company wants to expand into the area of carbon offsetting.” Jackson let that tidbit sit out there for a second or two. “Kasey suggested I contact Micah because this is a topic of great interest to him.”

Micah nodded. “Great interest.”

There it was. The assist I didn’t know I needed when I landed in North Carolina two weeks ago.

Jackson’s comments could go anywhere next but the jumpy, unsettled sensation that overwhelmed me when Harlan walked through the door subsided. The tension that had been trapped and flailing without restraint ran out of me. The room still pulsed with dark energy, most of it coming from Brock’s side of the table.

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