Beauty from Surrender (Beauty 2)

Even if I can manage to get past that part, he didn't come clean when I flat out asked him. "But he lied to me about it. I only found out because we ran into the woman. She cornered me in a bathroom to warn me about him. It was humiliating to stand there with his ring on my finger and have another woman tell me about going up to a hotel room with him."

"That's who he was—not who he is now—and it sounds like you need to decide if you can deal with what he used to do."

She isn't getting my issue here. "I can deal with the others but this one is different because she happened after me. It feels like our relationship is tainted."

"Think about this. I know you had a little something trying to get started with Charlie when Jack found you. Would you want him to hold that against you?"

It's apples and oranges. "But that was almost three months after we were over. Not a week."

"You have an argument for everything I say, so I don't know what you want to hear. Do you want me to tell you to throw away everything with him because he almost screwed someone else? Think about this, Laurie. Could you really walk away from him forever, not because of something he did but because of something he almost did?"

I didn't expect her to take his side, but she's making some good arguments in his defense. "It just hurts so much. How can I love him with all my heart but want to kick him in the nuts at the same time?"

"It's because there are three guys in a girl's life: one she loves, one she hates, and one she can't get enough of. The three have one thing in common. They're all the same guy, and right now, Jack is the one you hate. You want to kick his nut sack into his gut, but you have to remember that he's also the one you love and can't get enough of."

I consider Addison to be so shallow—and she can be—but not today. "You're right. I know I'd be miserable without him."

"You know I'd tell you to drop him if he was a sleaze, but he's not. Yes, he's been a manwhore in the past, but what guy hasn't been when you really think about it? The real question here is if you can get over this and move on. Will you be able to forgive this and not hold it against him and bring it up every time you have a fight or a problem?"

A realization occurs to me. He may have unintentionally hurt me, but he didn't purposely wrong me. And there's a huge difference between the two. "Yes. I can move past this because of how much I love him."

"Just because you've decided to get over it doesn't mean you have to let him know he's off the hook yet. Let him simmer on the back burner a few days and sweat it out so it's a lesson he doesn't forget any time soon."

I don't think so. "It better be a lesson he never forgets!"

"Then all the better to let him worry a few days. We'll hang out and do wedding stuff while he's at Avalon pacing the floor. Although I took his side, I do think he deserves that much."

A little worry and pacing won't hurt him a bit. "I agree. I can't let him out of the penalty box after only one day."

"No. He needs to be in there at least three days so you don't look like a pushover. Don't ever forget that it's your job to teach him how to treat you."

It's day three of Jack Henry being in the penalty box. We've not spoken since the morning he left, and I miss him terribly. For every time I don't call him, I almost do. I think I would have if Addison hadn't been with me, but she's kept me strong.

We've spent the last two days with the McLachlan women invading every bridal shop in Sydney. The more time I spend with them, the more I adore them. It's like having a normal, loving mom and sisters. And it's wonderful.

Jack Henry wouldn't be the only one I'd miss if we parted ways, so it's a good thing we're not. But he still doesn't know that. I realize it's a little on the cruel side to keep him in the dark. I'm beginning to feel a little guilty about that, but I'm glad to be going home so we can put this behind us and move forward.

I wait for him to pick up as the phone rings. He doesn't say hello when he answers, and my heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice saying my name. "L." I love his new nickname for me. It's so much more intimate than calling me Laurie like everyone else does.

"I was calling to see if you'd send Daniel to get Addison. She's ready to get back to Zac." And I'm ready to get back to you.

"Of course. When?"

"Could he be here by lunch tomorrow?" I already know he can. Jack Henry would send him now if it's what I asked.

"Absolutely. Tell her to expect him at twelve." I know Daniel well enough to know it will be straight up twelve o'clock when he pulls into the drive.

"I'll let her know."

There's a pregnant pause before he asks, "How are you?"

I'm weak and ready to break down. I want to say that I'm coming home because I've missed him so much, but I don't. I hold it together. "I'm okay. You?"

"I'm not okay at all. I miss you and I'm going crazy because you're not here with me."

If I have this talk with him, I'm a goner. "I don't want to have this conversation over the phone."

"Then come home so we can have it face to face. Please."

"I'll think about it." And that isn't a lie because I will be doing a lot of thinking about what I'm going to say to him once I'm home. I fear I'll say too much if I continue talking, so I end our conversation without giving him any clue that I'll be home with him the following night.

It's after five when I come into the house, so I know Mrs. Porcelli has left for the evening. Dinner is on the stove but hasn't been touched. All the lights are off in the house with the exception of a dim light from the living room. I follow the dull glow because I'm certain that must be where Jack Henry is—if he's home.

And then worrisome thoughts begin to cross my mind. Maybe he isn't here. He could be out prowling for another woman because he thinks I'm leaving him. Or worse, I could find him with someone. He doesn't know I'm coming home, so he could be up to anything.

Shit! This is my fear speaking. Jack Henry isn't like that. He loves me.

I stand in the doorway of the living room and see him sitting in his chair. He's alone. I breathe a sigh of relief. He's holding a drink in his hand as he stares at the black screen of the television. He turns up the last of it and then places the glass on the end table next to him.

He's wearing jeans and a khaki button-down work shirt. His Indiana Jones hat is sitting on the table next to him, and I assume he's just come home since he's still wearing work attire.

He's oblivious to me standing there watching him, and I take advantage of the rare opportunity to admire his masculine beauty. I wish I could see his crystal blue eyes. I love the contrast of them next to his nearly black hair. His hair and eye color combination have always been my favorite, and I hope our children inherit that from him. In fact, I want them to look just like their father.