Dallas sensed my hesitation and reached for Anna. I kissed her cheek and breathed in her scent before I let her go. Anna protested and held her arms back out for me as I started to put my tools back into my box. I had finished the details of the lobby. I only had a few more projects left before I ran out of excuses to stay.
“I’m leaving soon.”
Dallas simply nodded as she held her daughter close. “She’s just… Rose is… Jack, if you’ll be patient—”
&
nbsp; “I don’t think that’s the problem,” I said wearily. Unable to keep my thoughts to myself, I asked the question that had been weighing on my mind since the minute I met her.
“What’s she afraid of?”
Dallas looked down at me with a mix of both sympathy and warning. “You.”
I walked out onto the porch, my morning coffee in hand, still in the yoga pants and Austin t-shirt I’d tossed on before I’d turned in the night before. My hair was disgustingly piled on top of my head, and I gave zero shits as I scanned the land in front of me. I’d hidden at my mother’s for the past two days, terrified to face Jack.
He’d texted me twice each morning to tell me I was beautiful and called once, to which I hadn’t responded. His text hadn’t come this morning, which stung in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I hated myself for my behavior, but even more so, I hated the reaction I had to what we’d shared. There never would be a better man to take that Band-Aid away. Though this one hadn’t been painless, at least not in the aftermath, the guilt… the guilt was too much to bear. I sipped my coffee, disgusted with myself.
Dallas had told me when I confessed to her that I’d been intimate with Jack that I’d created this hurdle in my own mind, and that only I could jump over it. I knew she was right. I knew somehow I’d martyred my future romantic life in the ridiculous notion that I could keep Grant close by keeping a man’s affections and attention at bay.
But the other half of me, the one that truly wanted to live again, knew the stupidity of it. I was in an all-out internal struggle to break free. Suddenly aware I wasn’t alone, I looked to see Jack watching me closely from the foot of the porch. The only thing that startled me was just how breathtaking he was to look at.
“Hi,” I offered pathetically.
He took the steps two at a time and was in front of me, clear irritation and confusion covering his face. He hadn’t shaved in the days since I’d last seen him and it was irresistibly sexy. I held my coffee out to him, but he shook his head.
“I could make you a cup,” I offered, pointing my mug toward my open bedroom door.
Ignoring my offer, he reached out, and I flinched as he pulled the clip from my hair so it fell around my shoulders in a hot mess.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, in which I assumed was in lieu of my missed text. Emotion choked me as he looked at me puzzled but full of honesty. I set my cup down on the railing and faced him head on as I pushed out a breath.
“What happened between us was…” I paused, unable to voice the reason for my hesitation.
“What happened between us was fucking perfect, and I dare you to say different. And don’t even try to pretend with me, Rose. You want a repeat as much as I do.” He moved toward me, and I felt my body open to him before my mind had a chance to catch up. I was in his arms, his mouth on mine, a moan vibrating in the back of my throat.
His tongue massaged me, coaxed me, and told me the truth. It had been perfect. What had transpired between us had been more than just sex, more than need, and was filled with a deep connection. With his arms around me and his mouth on mine, I didn’t have to put any more thought into it until he tore his lips away with unsettled eyes.
“But you weren’t sure,” he declared with regret in his eyes. I hated that look. I wanted it gone but was sure it was only a reaction to my hesitance. Once again, I was forced to hide the truth from him, but I wasn’t sure why. I needed to come clean. He could see my guilt, but he didn’t know the reason for it. I didn’t want him to think what happened meant any less to me than it did to him. I wanted nothing more than to explore our connection but the fucking guilt was choking me.
I opened my mouth to speak just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He reluctantly let go of me but pinned me with his eyes. I could feel the small amount of anger radiating from him. He briefly looked down at the text and cursed in aggravation.
“I have to go. One of the machines—”
“It’s fine. I’ll just… I have to get to work.”
Jack nodded and withdrew, turning to walk away. I felt the pain of it and quickly spoke. “I don’t regret it.”
He stilled, as if waiting for more of an explanation, and when I gave none, he stopped waiting. He moved quickly, walking in the direction of the center. Panic gripped me as the thought that I had blown it with him began to race through me. Unsure of what to do, I watched him walk away, but more and more panic began to build, making it impossible for me to ignore it.
“Jack,” I called after him. His steps didn’t stop. I called his name again, sure he’d heard me the first time. When I got no reaction, my panic turned into action. I jumped on the cart, my hair whipping around me and my braless breasts bouncing with each damned bump I took. I was sure I looked as insane as I felt as I caught up with him and began yelling at black t-shirt clad back. “I’ve been… hurt, and I told you, it’s been a long time for me… since…”
When I got no response, I went in again. “You were great. It was great.” Jack gave me a sideways glance, letting me know what an idiotic statement that was, and at that moment, all I wanted to do was drive my cart into the pond.
“What I meant was, we… you… of course I want to do it again.” Jack picked up his pace in an attempt to hide his smile, but I saw it.
“Will you just get on the damned cart and give me a second! I’m not a morning person!” I was failing miserably, and we both knew it. Yet I had no idea what words he wanted to hear.
Jack kept walking as he paid me no attention, and I quickly became irritated. The heat, my inability to express myself to Jack, and the fact that he was ignoring me, had my temper flaring.