“Not personally. I’ve heard the name. I’m sure you have, too. According to my mother, her rich boyfriend was Jack Crosby.”
That made her eyes widen. “Well, of course I’ve heard of Jack Crosby.”
“Jack.” His upper lip curled as he said the name. “My mother must have thought it was very clever of her to name me after him.”
Laurel winced. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Yeah. She told me she was still mad enough when I was born to name me that as a dig at Crosby. Heck of a reason to choose a name for your son, isn’t it?” He shook his head in disgust.
It did seem like a rather cold thing to do, especially when another man had volunteered to be a father to her boy. “She was young,” she said lamely, having no other excuse for Donna.
“Quit saying that, okay? She was old enough to try to bust up a family and then to find someone else to support her. She knew what she was doing.”
She started to try again to defend his mother, maybe to remind him that everyone made mistakes—some worse than others, of course—but she decided to wait until he’d cooled down a bit more. Though he had a temper, Jackson was ultimately a reasonable man to whom family meant everything. He would come around eventually.
“Apparently now he wants to meet me.”
She followed the shift of topic with an effort. “Jack Crosby, you mean?”
He nodded.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Uninterested,” he answered succinctly.
“He has several other grown children, doesn’t he? Three or four, I think. They’re your half-siblings, Jackson.”
“They’re strangers. The fact that we share some DNA doesn’t make us family.”
“No, but—”
“I doubt that they’d be any more interested in meeting me. How do you think it would make them feel to find out that their father was screwing around with a waitress while he was married to their mother? Not to mention they would probably assume I’d make a claim for part of their inheritance.”
Laurel hadn’t even thought of that. Jack Crosby was a multimillionaire. For that matter, Jackson probably did have a legal claim to an inheritance, even though she knew her stubbornly proud husband would reject the very suggestion. “It’s up to you whether you meet Jack Crosby, of course. But maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe you can resolve all this easier in your mind if you meet everyone involved.”
He shot her a heated glare. “Suddenly you want to get involved with your in-laws? I guess a few million dollars makes the idea a bit more appealing, huh?”
He had spoken rashly, probably lashing out more at her suggestion than at her personally. But it still hurt. Badly.
She rose stiffly, wrapping her arms around her middle. “That was unfair. You’re angry with your parents, and I can understand that. But I will not allow you to take that anger out on me. Not when I’m only trying to help you.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I just—I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Fine.” She turned toward the doorway. “I’ll go check on Tyler.”
Okay, maybe he hadn’t handled that very well.
Jackson sighed deeply. He might as well be honest. He’d botched the conversation with Laurel big-time.
He shouldn’t have sprung the Texas suggestion on her so abruptly. It was just that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Still did, for that matter. He’d thought Laurel would be more intrigued by the idea of moving so far away from his parents.
He’d put off telling her about his parentage as long as he could. It hadn’t been something he’d looked forward to. He had told himself that he would be cool and dispassionate when he told her. That he would let none of his tumultuous emotions show in either his voice or his expression. He wanted her to know that he was a strong, mature adult who could handle whatever came at him. Just like his—
Like Carl, he thought with the hollow ache that had been inside him ever since he had left his mother’s house the day before.
It was bad enough that he had learned things about his mother that had completely shaken his image of the woman he had thought he knew so well. But to find out that Carl wasn’t really his father… Well, that had been almost too much to bear.
He buried his face in his hands. He wished he hadn’t lashed out at Laurel when she’d suggested that he might want to meet Jack Crosby. He shouldn’t have practically accused her of being a gold digger.