“Smug much?” I whispered, my mouth still awkward against the words my brain wanted to form.
“You are beat, P, I’ll start the shower,” he said, lingering against my lips. I could feel the smile against them.
“K,” I muttered.
Time sort of lurched right then. The light from the lamp Jack had on was the only light in the room, and it gave a dream-like quality where time quit making sense to me for a bit. I’m pretty sure the only reason I didn’t fall completely asleep was because he wasn’t next to me.
“Perrin,” Jack’s voice was low in my ear, and I mumbled some sort of response. “Let’s take a shower, come on, I promise it’s warm,” he added.
Jack led me to the shower, and then we kept it pretty straightforward, at least for us. It probably helped that I was swaying on my feet, Jack seemed concerned about how tired I was, but I was just ready to sleep.
I knew Jack was worried about me even before myexhaustion thatnight. We had been over at my place a few times, now that it had furniture, including a bed. But, I was really dragging my feet about opening any of the boxes of my stored items that had arrived from the storage facility in Texas. He didn’t say anything, but he definitely gave me a few looks that held questions.
It was a lot for me. A lot of my past to unpack. Literally and figuratively. And while giving Jack my key had seemed like the easiest thing in the world, this . . . wasn’t.
Forward was so much easier for me than looking back. But, I knew the way I felt about Jack wasn’t something that came aroundeveryday. I needed to settle myself with what had been so I could be ready for what could be with Jack.
“Sweetheart,” I said as he hovered over me as I put up my toothbrush at the sink next to his, and we were both still shower-damp. I could tell he was still worried; he wasn’t very good at hiding it when he was concerned about me.
“I’m just tired,” I told him, dropping a kiss to his concerned brow. “We skied all morning, and I worked. And,” I said, pulling him into me, “we had multiple moments of some amazing sex. You should be more concerned if Iwasn’tdead on my feet right now.”
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said, pulling me out of the bathroom, disposing of the towel and placing me in bed while turning off all the lights. Caretaker Jack was on a roll tonight. I had told him that I had the next day off, but he was still being bossy about how late it was.
He went to his side of my bed, climbing in and, snuggling next to me, and I sighed at the comforting feel of his body next to mine as I spooned my body around him. I smiled into his hair, laying kisses on his neck as I thought of how damned sexy he had been when I came home to find him waiting and asleep. Just waiting in my bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. My chest felt tight and I pulled him closer, rewarded with his fingers intertwined with mine against his chest, and our legs a long tangle of skin.
“How did I get so lucky?” I murmured against his skin, falling asleep with my face in his hair, breathing him in.
Jack
The first thing I noticed was that the bed was cold next to me. After months of waking up next to the long legs of Perrin’s constantly heat-seeking body next to or wrapped around mine, it was disorienting and strange to wake up without his heat and weight tangled up with mine.
I faintly smelled coffee and realized I was at Perrin’s place, and that contributed to why nothing made sense at first. Somehow I had managed to sprawl myself in the middle of his huge platform bed, naked from the late night and early morning we spent breaking in his new bed, mattress, and sheets. It had been a few days now that we had stayed here, instead of my place, but it still felt new to me.
Perrin was in the living area, fire already ablaze, sipping coffee and staring at the still unopened boxes. He had gotten as far as laying out an interestingly shaped box on the large overstuffed ottoman that was also his coffee table, but as far as I could tell, that was it. This was the third night in a row we had stayed over at Perrin’s, including the Sunday he missed dinner and I had come over to wait for him to get home. Everything was still packed up like it had been the Saturday before that day. Packed up since he moved in here, really, with the exception of the bedroom, which actually looked lived-in. But, when I thought about it, I was pretty certain even that room was full of items which were mostly new.
I couldn't tell he had even cracked one of the boxes open. They were meticulously stacked and labeled, obviously done by a professional company. Perrin had indicated thathe left Boston pretty quickly, and that in Europe he hadn’t kept anything except what came with him to the Inn. So, in the past few weeks he had accumulated some new things - coffee mugs and a coffee maker like mine, a couch, bedroom furniture; but he had still not opened the boxes.
It was starting to be odd.
I had probed a few times, with questions like when we last went to Mann Sunday dinner, and he answered about the same way he had then - that he was working though some things and he would talk when he was ready.
I leaned on the wall in the hallway studying him before he saw me. He was in a t-shirt and athletic pants, hair still tossed from last night, curls making a golden halo against the windows behind him. Perrin wasn’t exactly looking at the box on the ottoman. He was just sitting on his mid-century modern sectional that hadn’t been there three days ago, sipping his coffee almost as an afterthought.
Quinn may have designed the space itself, but Perrin had the eye of an artist. Every piece he added was exquisite and nuanced. I loved just coming over to see what was new, and I was secretly anticipating what the boxes would reveal of the man. From my view of the careful labeling on the boxes, most were books.
At first, I had thought his delay in opening everything was due to how intentional he was in picking out the pieces he added to his home. But now, it had been weeks and the boxes stayed shut. It seemed contradictory with the rest of his personality.
I came out of the hallway, his eyes went to mine and immediately his face lit-up, and the melancholy seemed to fade. He moved to make my coffee and I tried to wave himoff, but ended up just joining him in the kitchen, burying my face in his back to feel him near me again as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He smelled herbal and clean, like his whole apartment.
“Morning, Jack,” he said softly, dropping the coffee in the Nespressoand getting me a coffee mug. As soon as it was done, he turned, gathering me in his arms. “You couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
“Slept too well,” I corrected. “Didn’t even hear you get up. And it’s already nine.”
We kissed lazily for a moment, enjoying each other as the smell of coffee swirled. I knew he had a day off today, so I was surprised he was up this early - we usually slept in on those mornings.
“Want to grab lunch today?” I asked, taking my coffee, and taking a step back from him. He was pressed against the counter, long legs out and accommodating me in between them. I knew his plan was to put his condo together, but I didn’t know what else he had planned, and the last time I checked his fridge it held little. He had also had the same plan on his last day off, but as far as I could tell, he had skied all day that day and didn’t bother with the unpacking at all.
I got the dimples on his smile to that. “Yeah, Jack. That would be great,” he said.
