“Oh, so only a certain type, then. Only badasses get ink?”
“Jack, out of the three of you, you are by far the calmest, sleekest, and sexiest, in a suit kind of way.”
He folded his arms over his bare chest and leaned a muscled shoulder against the doorjamb, t-shirt bunched in his hand. “Because I don’t get into brawls and shit?”
Whoa, male pride wounded. Mmm. I pursed my lips, letting my gaze run over his body. Jack was muscled—not overly like a bodybuilder—with broad shoulders, strong biceps, and ripped abs. Heck, he surfed, swam like a shark, and had easily held me up when we made love and caught me when I jumped. The guy had power in him.
He pushed away from the frame and pulled on his t-shirt. “Let’s feed you before you totally destroy my manhood.”
I got off the bed. “Oh, it’s the quiet ones I’d watch out for,” I said airily. “They’re often the maddest, baddest dudes. I think if you let loose, you’d probably kill someone.”
Snorting, he walked out of the room. I hurried after him, unable to stop my grin, enjoying rattling him, then I jumped on his back like a monkey. He didn’t even miss a step, just carried me piggyback down the stairs, but his hands supporting me, squeezed my bottom.
After dinner and taking my meds, exhaustion caught up with me. Jack showed me to the other bedroom onhisfloor.
The spacious guest room was gorgeous, done in pale cream and green with a queen bed, and darker green covers matching the undrawn drapes. I dropped my backpack near the small table and couch that overlooked the front gardens. “Thanks. It’s beautiful.”
He gave a little nod.
“It’s been a long day,” I murmured, stifling a yawn.
As I slipped beneath the covers, he strode to the door and shut it, then he came over and got in on the other side. I blinked, a swarm of butterflies breaking free inside my stomach. He didn’t say anything, just watched me for a second. He switched off the bedside lamp, slid his palm on my lower belly, away from my wound, and drew me close.
We didn’t fuck like rabbits or make wild passionate love again. He simply spooned me and held me. Nothing else. He just held me. And as sleep claimed me, he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Goodnight, Ray-bug.”
* * *
A soft sound drifted to me, pulling me awake. I rubbed my bleary eyes, and then stilled. My heart pounded, remembering. Yesterday. Last night. Everything.
I was with Jack now, in a relationship. Man, I breathed in deeply. Warmth slid through me, recalling the tender way he held me last night. Jack continued to surprise me, and my cautious heart melted a little more.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand. It was well past ten as my cell would have me believe. Sheesh.
As I headed downstairs a little while later, wearing my last pair of clean khaki shorts, which I’d teamed with a faded gray Guns N’ Roses t-shirt and leather sandals, I addedclothesto my mental list while collecting Wilbur today. If he wanted to come. I worried about the mangy cat.
My cell rang. At the nameMomsterflashing, I smiled and answered. “Hey, Mom. I’m sorry about leaving so abruptly yesterday. Jack’s grandfather had a heart attack and was admitted. I know Nigel, I met him first at the seniors’ home where I volunteer. He visits Chuck, too. I was really anxious about him. Anyway, thankfully, it was a mild attack…” My long run-on drifted off at her silence. I pressed a palm to my rapidly twisting stomach. Usually, she’d laugh and cut me off. “Mom? Are you okay?”
“I’m f…fine, darling. And it’s good to hear he’s doing better. So, Jack seems like a nice young man.”
I frowned and sat on the top stair of the second floor…yikes! She must have picked up on something between Jack and me while I was at home. But I didn’t want to say anything about us just yet, so I went with caution. “Yes,” I said slowly. “He is…”
“Did you see this morning’s paper?”
“No. I don’t really read them, Ma. Everything in it is too depressing.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but s…something there brightened my day,” she teased.
“What is it?” Oh, no—oh, shit! “There’s a picture of Jack and me, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “A kissing one.”
Crap! Jack had kissed me many times at the festival, so I didn’t dare ask more about it. “And Dad?” I squeaked. “Did he…?”
“Yes, he saw it first, it’s how I came to know—”
“Noooo,” I moaned, planting my face to my knees as more soft laughter coasted through the speaker. I turned sideways to glare at the series of framed etchings of landscapes on the wall.
“Sweetheart, all we want is your happiness. But knowing you don’t often read the papers, I thought it best to make you aware.”
