Everybody Falls (20 page)

God, he was gorgeous, especially when he smiled. The sun glinted off his damp black hair, gleamed off his inked shoulders and arms, creating shadows on his ripped abs.

I have a half naked, gorgeous man in my kitchen
, my heart whispered giddily.
Don't get too used to it
, my mind said firmly.

Pulling the biscuits out of the oven, I placed them in a napkin lined basket and started moving things to the table.

"You ready to eat?" I asked.

"Starved," he admitted, dropping a kiss on the top of my head as he moved to the chair at the little two-seat table in the corner.

We ate in silence for a time, the only sounds were of our cutlery as it scraped against our quickly emptied plates.

"God, that was good," he exclaimed, rubbing his stomach.

"Glad you enjoyed it. More coffee?" I asked moving to the pot on the warmer and saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Lacey?" I heard him ask.

"Mmm?"

"Why don't you have a man?" he asked hesitantly.

Everything within me stilled. Did I really want to go there?

I brought our cups back to the table and began to move the detritus of our breakfast to the long counter by the stove. Actually, the clearing was done to give myself time to think.

Sitting back down, I sighed.

"I was seeing someone but we broke up a couple of months ago," I admitted, hiding behind my coffee cup. I didn't think I needed him to know that Tommy and I only dated a couple of weeks.

"What happened?" Jack asked with a frown.

I shrugged.

"Dunno. One minute he was a nice guy and the next, he wanted to know my every move; to know where I was every minute. He didn't want me outside of the bakery unless he was with me," I paused, glancing at Jack before taking another sip.

"One night, I went with Ricki to Mercy's for a drink, to hear a new band and he didn't like it. Things got, uhm, ugly when he showed up. I didn't like his actions or his words, then decided I really just didn't like him all that much," I continued, giving the briefest of explanations.

I was quiet remembering that God awful night. How Tommy had tracked me down as he'd made a complete spectacle of himself. Yelling and screaming so loud that the band stopped playing.

However, it wasn't until he yanked me out of my chair by my bicep, wrenching my arm, that I really got scared. It took two bouncers to pull him off me, but not before he cracked me one across my cheek. By then, I'd had it and had made it very clear he was to never come near me again. Not to look, not to talk, nothing.

Luckily, he had gotten the message. But, it might have been because I'd filed charges for his assault, too.

"What about you?" I asked back, yet I've got to admit I didn't want to know. Not really.

He mimicked my shrug from before.

I caught his eyes and raised my eyebrows in question.

"Nothing to tell, Lace," he said as his eyes moved away. "We always had girls around, you know, the groupies. Sometimes, when there was something going on, the label would fix us up with models and shit so we had somebody presentable on our arms for awards and stuff."

"So the pictures of you guys with the models?"

"For publicity, both them and us," he said coolly. "Lace? You know that drive we went on?"

"Yeah?"

"That was my first date," he admitted and I watched as a blush bloomed over his features.

I was stunned and had to mentally bear down so my jaw didn't drop.

Really? I was the first he'd ever gone out with?

Smiling, I reached for his hand. "So, Jack. What'd you think of your first date?"

"Goddamn awesome," he breathed, smiling shyly, rubbing a thumb over my knuckles.

"For me, too, honey," I whispered back.

We were quiet as we finished our coffee, just holding hands across the small table.

"Why don't you shower and I'll take care of the kitchen?" he suggested, when I stood up.

"You want to clean my kitchen?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah. That was one of the first fucking things that Grams taught me when I came out of my fog. She gave me a big ass lecture about her not being one of my lackeys. That, in her house, I was not a rock star and I needed on responsibility, like pronto. So, when I'm there, I take care of cleaning the kitchen. Plus, there's this hot little baker who has had me washing her bowls and shit…" he said with a huge grin.

"Allrighty, then," I said as he pushed me against the counter for a searing kiss. A kiss which included a lot of tongue and seemed to go on forever.

When I came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to meet the day, he was just putting soap in the dishwasher before flipping the lever to turn it on.

"I was thinking we could walk over to Grams. I want to check in with her," he said, glancing out the window. "Plus, it’s a beautiful morning for a walk."

"Sounds good," I replied. "Let me go grab something from downstairs while you get dressed. Is there anything special she might like?"

"Anything chocolate. The old lady is crazy about chocolate," he said, snagging my waist for a quick hug as he moved down the hall towards the bedroom.

I have to admit, as walks go, this one was perfect.

Jax and I meandered. He was holding the small Lacey's box by its string as we held hands.

"Have you always lived in Northern California?" he asked at one point.

"I was in Vegas when my grandmother died," I explained. "After I graduated, I just couldn't take my mom's lifestyle anymore. She's bi-polar, and she doesn't want to take her medication. She'd rather be drunk or high, and frankly, I just couldn't deal with it anymore. I was working, yet if I bought anything, like a TV or didn't hide the even the smallest new thing, she'd snatch it and trade it in for her next buzz. And the men. Geez, Jack. I can't tell you how many times I'd come out of my room to some hairy, smelly stranger in his boxers standing in the kitchen."

He glanced my way with a frown.

"Did any of those clowns try it with you?" he asked sharply.

"Yeah, but, I discovered at an early age that a well-placed shoe in a certain place can drop a man to his knees. Then I learned the value of a deadbolt on a bedroom door," I replied lightly, keeping those memories, the horror of those memories, way down deep.

The smell of unwashed, nasty sex in the air as those unknown men, those strangers, scratched their hairy bellies or balls. The way some of them loomed over me or the feel of their hands. Oh God, their hands that wanted to hurt or touch, leaving me feeling dirty, unclean and sick to my stomach.

No. There was no need to get descriptive about the portion of my life that still made me cautious around men I didn't know.

He dropped my hand and pulled me in a tight, sideways hug, our feet never losing their cadence. "That's my girl."

"Do you have any kind of date or timeline for when you'll be back out in the real world?" I asked, and I felt my heartbeat double bump. I knew I probably shouldn't be asking, except I wanted to know how long we had before he was going to leave.

"I don't know. I've got another hearing down in L.A. next month to reassess my progress," he replied, dropping his arm from my shoulders and picking up my hand again.

No more than a month, then. I felt a crack in my heart appear. We were almost over already, before we'd really begun.

He turned us to begin the final leg of our journey, down the long driveway to the large two-story farmhouse. It was old but well kept, the only real signs of age were in the peeling paint of the eaves and along the porch rails.

He must have seen where I was looking.

"Yeah, that's the next job. Grams wants me to scrape off the old shit and repaint the fucker starting in the fall. She says that it's too hot in the summer to tackle it," he complained, kicking at the small pebbles in the gravel of the driveway.

He'll be here in the fall!
my heart squealed.
Yeah. You think you'll still be with him?
my mind questioned with a snort.

We walked around the side of the house and Jack stopped, pulling me fully against him.

"I need to kiss you, Lace," he explained at my frown. "There's no windows here and I don't want Grams watching this."

I smiled before my mouth was again fully engaged in joining with his.

Holy blueberries he could kiss, feeling even the slightly tender parts within me begin to wake up and take notice at the feel of his mouth on mine.

"Now we're ready to go in," he said, panting as he pulled away from me. I liked knowing that our kisses enflamed him as much as they did me. He snagged my hand again and gave it a squeeze as we traversed the small set of stairs leading up to the back screened-in porch.

"Grams?" he called, stepping into the kitchen.

"Hot Stuff?" I heard back. "In here."

He pulled on my hand, giving me a look I couldn't decipher as he moved down the hall towards the living room.

"Hey, guys," she said with a smile, reaching for the remote and turning the TV off.

"Hi, Ms. Dennison," I greeted and I could feel the heat in my face. Was she going to be pissed that Jack had spent the night with me?

"I see a Lacey's box," she said in a sing-song voice, her smile which was so much like Jack's, beaming. "Is that for me?"

"Yes ma'am," I said and pulled it from his hand. "Jack said you like chocolate, so I brought you a couple of chocolate croissants. You need to bake them. I've put the instructions on the inside lid. Just deduct ten minutes from the time, because they've probably defrosted."

"I'm going to do the ten o'clock meeting," Jack said. "Is it okay if Lace stays and hangs out with you?"

"Of course," Ms. Dennison replied, glancing at the clock on her old-fashioned DVD player. "It'll give us time to get to know each other better."

I had been looking around the room, noting the small figurines and different porcelain boxes she had scattered around the room, but shot my eyes back to hers at her answer.

Was that code for let's warn the local away from my hot, rock-god grandson? Yet, I didn't see anything in her face except welcome interest.

Get a grip
, I warned myself.

"Need to change, Tiger," he said, dropping a sweet short one against my lips.

"Get a room, kids. Because if Gramma ain't getting none, then no one else should be either," she hooted from her place on the sofa.

Jack laughed with her as he bent to kiss the top of her head.

"Love you, Jax," I heard her whisper.

"Back at you, old woman," he said softly back as he moved away.

Like before, she patted the old sofa, silently asking me to sit.

"How'd it go last night?" she said on a low voice. "He seems calm this morning so I'm guessing things went okay?"

Holy ribbons of chocolate sauce. Was I supposed to discuss the naked things I'd done with Jack?

"I, uh," I started and could feel the heat flare in my face as my mind raced for an appropriate answer.

"No, Lacey. Not
that
!" she giggled and I could hear her younger self in the soft laugh. "I may be nosy but not that nosy."

I felt her glance more than saw it.

She sighed. It was such a heavy, deep sigh that I lifted my eyes to hers.

"He's had troubles, Lace. Bad troubles. Since he's been back here, he's gotten better, but last night was the first night he's been away," Ms. Dennison explained. "Was he able to sleep?"

"Yes ma'am," I answered slowly.

"How long?" she pressed.

"Er…I dunno. Six, seven hours, maybe?" I answered, keeping my voice as low as she kept hers.

"Good. God, that's good news," she breathed, sinking back into the cushions. "I think that's the most he's slept since before Denny died. Outside of the drugged sleep when he first got here. But that doesn't count, does it?"

Then she did the strangest thing. I watched as this kind yet sassy old woman almost bent completely in half and began to cry into the khaki pants she was wearing. She used her hands to slide her glasses up when her hands covered her face as the tears flowed.

I didn't know what to do so I reached a hesitant hand out to stroke her back.

The tears didn't last long. She reached for my hand as I pulled back when she straightened.

"Thank you," she whispered fervently. I was completely lost, having absolutely no clue what was going on.

"Uhm, you're welcome," I whispered back, squeezing her fingers. Deciding that I needed to clue in when so much emotion was flying around the room, I jumped in with a question. "He can't sleep?"

"No, sweet girl. He has a hard time sleeping and spends a lot of nights playing that old piano in the corner there," Ms. Dennison said, waving an arm at an old upright piano. "He did okay? I mean he wasn't agitated or pacing or anything?"

"Well, he was pissed when I picked him up at the church and after, you know, that scene with my mom. He was better after he talked with you," I admitted.