Beautiful Rose (Beautiful Rose 1)

"Hey. Did you get Jack’s text about the work schedules? Can you grab ours? I'd do it, but I'm driving Benj to the doctors and neither of us are on tonight, so . . ."

"Sure, I was heading out anyway," I sighed, sure this was just another one of Darcy's attempts to get me alone with Jack. Checking my texts, I saw that he had, in actual fact, sent out a message about the rosters. Still, I’m sure given the chance, Darcy would do whatever it took to get Jack and I alone.

* * *

I pushed on the side door of the bar, surprised to find that it was open. I stepped inside, listening out for any sign of Jack, or anyone else. Nothing. Just the soft ticking of the clock, over silence.

“Jack?” I called out. “It's Rose.”

Still nothing. Well, that’s weird. He wouldn't have left the door unlocked if he'd gone out, so he had to be here. Maybe he was upstairs. I bit my lip. The question was whether or not I should go up there.

“JACK!” I called out, this time louder.

Still no response.

Hesitating, I walked over to the wooden staircase and began to climb it. If I wasn't so nervous about seeing Jack, I'd be freaking out thinking I was going to fall through this thing. I had no idea how this staircase had passed a building inspection. It was rickety and unstable. I felt as though any moment I'd be on the floor of the bar, sporting multiple fractures.

I stepped off the final stair and onto the landing. His door was slightly open. I nudged it, pushing it open wide enough for me to squeeze through. I looked around. Wow. This place was nice. He had a small living room set up adjacent to the kitchen. It wasn't huge, but it looked cozy. I imagined myself curled up with Jack on the sofa, snuggling in front of the fire . . .

“Rose?”

I whipped my head around in shock.

Oh. My. Lord.

Jack stood in front of me, wrapped in only a towel. His hair was messy and damp, and he’d clearly just stepped out of the shower. Beads of water fell from the strands of his hair and glistened on his chest. Well that explained why he hadn't heard me. I cringed. Why hadn't I just waited downstairs a little longer? How was I supposed to explain me being in his apartment while he was standing in front of me, naked? More importantly, how was I supposed to not stare at that oh-so-sexy chest? His arms were muscular, too. The towel dipped so low I could see the beginnings of his pubic hair. I turned around, mortified. I'd just been staring at his pubic hair. His pubic hair! And he had to have seen me. My face flamed red.

“Rose?” he repeated, not bothering to hide his amusement. He liked that I was embarrassed! The bastard was getting off on this.

“Work schedules,” I muttered. “I'm here for the work schedules.”

“And you thought you'd find them in my kitchen? Hey, if they’re not there, maybe you should try my bedroom? I think I saw them on the bed,” he chuckled softly. I groaned, willing the ground to swallow me up. “Okay,” he said, still laughing. “Let me get dressed and I'll get them for you. Do you want a coffee or something?" he asked.

"Tea would be nice," I replied, running my finger along the length of the dining table.

“How about you make the tea while I get dressed?” he suggested. My eyes lingered over his body once more as he stared back at me.

Did he like what he saw? I’d picked out a summery floral skirt that finishe

d mid-thigh, and paired it with a cream silk shirt and my trademark black flats.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

"What was that?" I asked, suddenly aware of what sounded like scratching on a wall. Or in a wall? Shit, what if he had squirrels? As well as butterflies I was terrified of squirrels.

"What?" he said, confused. I put my finger to my lips and listened.

"That! Do you have a cat? I can hear meowing? Maybe it's stuck outside?"

"No," he said, grinning. "Do me a favor and open up the second door on the left?" He pointed up the hall.

I laughed, walked toward the room, positive he was checking out my ass. I opened the door and a very annoyed cat bolted out.

"Rose, meet my cat, Mr. Jefferies." Jack coughed.

‘Mr Jefferies’ was rubbing up against my legs like he was on crack.

"How old is he?" I asked, laughing as the cat took the seat next to me so he could continue his assault. He purred, jumping onto my lap, every now and then turning around to glare at Jack.