Authors: Natasha Boyd
I froze.
“It’s ok, Keri Ann,” he whispered. Then he gently pulled me back into the spray, letting it rinse my hair and washing the suds down my body. I realized I had coarse sand on my breasts as the water washed it down my belly.
Jack’s tender, reverent ministrations seemingly without ulterior motive, were doing me in, melting my concerns away.
His hands never ventured around me. Instead, they slid down either side of my waist to my hips and tugged at my panties. My breathing stuttered, and an edgier warmth than that provided by the water sluicing over me, traveled languidly through me.
He pulled down, crouching behind me and I stepped out of them, my heart now pounding in the region of my throat. The thuds echoed throughout my body. We’d made love before, but this felt like the most intimate moment we’d shared.
He moved to the side and the water hit me once more. Then it stopped, and Jack stepped around me without turning and reached out the gate for a large white towel he’d brought. It unfurled, shielding my body from his eyes that didn’t stray from mine as he offered it.
That was it?
Ideas raced through my head about ignoring the towel, or tossing it aside, undressing him as he did me, washing him, washing his hair … touching him. I looked back down at the towel, but in the end, I took it gratefully and wrapped it around me.
Jack smiled.
We were lying on Jack’s bed. We’d been waiting for my clothes to dry downstairs, and they were done now and lying in a heap on the floor by the bed. Neither of us seemed to want to leave this moment.
I was wearing a sage green t-shirt of his that reminded me of the color of his eyes. Unfortunately, it had been clean when he’d given it to me so it smelled of detergent rather than
him
when I’d put it on, inhaling as I went, like a love-sick puppy. And I was wearing a pair of his boxers. They were black and a little loose. His waist was fairly narrow, despite his frame, so it wasn’t too bad.
It was strange being in this room again. The memories of the last time I was in here, naked, giving him all of myself, flickered like disjointed images around the edge of every coherent conversation I tried to have between kissing him. And we kissed. A lot. “There are months ‘til filming, right?”
“September, so yeah, about four months,” Jack answered.
We rolled onto our sides facing each other.
He was bare-chested still, but wearing a pair of worn and comfy jeans. He must have seventeen pairs of them, I mused.
“What are you going to do here for four months?”
He grinned, his dimple teasing me. “Learn to fence. And annoy you, probably.”
“Never. Anyway, why is it so long until filming starts?”
“There’s the entire set to be built first,” he answered. “Most will be built and stored in warehouses around Savannah. I’m not really part of that. SCAD students are doing some stuff too, a summer project I guess. They have to re-create the
Pirate House
. I don’t think Savannah tourism could stand to have the original one blown up,” he added in mock seriousness.
“I can imagine.” I smirked. “But seriously? That’s so cool. It’s a pity I’m not already enrolled there, I’d totally beg to be on that project.” I thought about the old weathered grey wood of the
Pirate House
and the doors and shutters painted
haint
blue to keep the ghosts out.
He smiled. “I had this crazy idea to turn the whole script kind of Steampunk and magical, especially the ship
Revenge
, to make it different. I told Devon and he was all over it, so we’ve been re-working it with the scriptwriter. But mostly it’ll translate in set design.”
“You really love this stuff, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” He looked at me seriously and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I really do. Books, movies, they were my escape growing up. It’s only right that I be a part of creating that for other people now.”
“I just wish it didn’t come with all the bad stuff,” I whispered, thinking of his lack of privacy and having to think through and second-guess every single action he took, even going out for a burger when he had no food in the house.
“Keri Ann, I don’t want to
not
do what I do.”
“I know. That’s not what I meant. I can see how much you love it. I’d never want to get in the way of that.”
Jack sighed. “I did almost give it up. When I was here last time I was so disillusioned, so controlled. I’m still working through all that, and after Audrey threatened all the things she did, I thought I should just walk away from it all. Give it up, so no one could coerce me anymore. But, I realized giving it up wouldn’t solve anything. In the end, the way I chose to handle what was dealt to me, getting out of the contract and getting the chance at the project in England, ended up being the best thing I could’ve done.”
“
It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities,”
I quoted.
“Oh my God, are you quoting Harry Potter at me?” Jack laughed, rolling me onto my back.
“Well, you
are
a self-professed book and movie nerd.
I’m
just a book-nerd.”
“Damn, I know. I remember your mountains of books. I want to build you a library.” Jack lowered his mouth and kissed me.
I swallowed as emotion clogged my throat. He might as well have asked me to marry him.
I didn’t want to break the moment, but what he mentioned about Audrey troubled me. “You alluded to it in your journal, about Audrey threatening you. What did she do?”
Jack stiffened.
“I’m sorry,” I offered. “I … I just really want to know. And you just mentioned it again, so …” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth nervously.
He sighed. “Actually, part of why I didn’t come right back was—” He sat up, pulling me with him, and faced me.
I folded my legs up and crossed my ankles.
“I did come back actually,” he continued. “Got as far as Butler Cove, but I didn’t stay. I couldn’t stay. I found out Audrey had paid a guy to take pictures of me when I was here.”
“Then? When you came back?” I was confused.
“No, before.” He laced his fingers through mine. “Of us.”
A thud of dread echoed in my chest.
“He got pictures of us that she threatened to make public as an excuse for why she cheated on me.”
“Us?” I racked my brain to think of where we’d been public. Jogging on the beach? On his bike? What if they’d been taken at my home? The invasion made my stomach sour.
“She was going to put it all on you, Keri Ann. She was going to say
you
were why she had an affair. That’s part of why I didn’t come back. I wanted you as far away as possible from me.”
“What pictures did she have?”
Jack swallowed.
“Jack?”
“They were taken here. In this room. Most were pretty grainy, you couldn’t really see anything. But there were some clear ones of you and me standing right there.” He motioned toward the French door and balcony that was now closed, although the blinds were open to the blue sky. “The morning after. I was hugging you from behind.”
I remembered the moment, perfectly. My skin prickled as my blood pooled in my gut. “The grainy pictures …?”
Jack winced and nodded. “We had the light on in here.”
I remembered him turning it on. Me wanting it off, but not because someone could have been watching. My eyes stung as tears welled.
“You really can’t tell it’s us, but that wouldn’t have mattered. And really it was lucky she paid a local P.I. and not the paparazzi. They have far better equipment to capture a moment.”
I let go of Jack’s hand, clutching my middle and straightened my legs so I could lean my head down. I needed some blood back. “Oh God, I don’t think I can do this,” I finally managed and brought my hands up to cover my face.
How could I possibly? The idea that he would be a target for salacious pictures and stories was obvious, but it was just so opposite from anything I could want for my life. I’d known this all going in, yet I’d let it get so far. I’d willingly gone down the path with him back then, pretending what he did didn’t matter because it wasn’t the real Jack Eversea. The Jack I fell for. But, the Jack I fell for was part and parcel of this crazy, voyeuristic society we lived in. And I’d walked right back in.
Jack pulled away and I heard a thud. I peeked through my fingers to see he’d slid to the ground, his back against the bed. His denim-clad legs were bent, his arms resting on his knees, cradling his head. The nape of his neck was stretched and … and I wanted to kiss it. I couldn’t reconcile any of this. How I felt about him with how I felt about who he was.
“Where are the pictures?” I whispered.
“I own them. All of them,” Jack muttered and took a deep breath, raising his face and letting his head drop back on the bed. “It was part of the deal. The deal I made with her and with my production company. She gave me the pictures, and I promised not to see you until the end of the contract term, which ran out last week.”
He’d made a deal for me. To protect me. And he’d come here as soon as the obligation was fulfilled.
But Audrey?
“God, why does she hate
me
so much? What did I ever do to her?”
“She doesn’t hate you. She hates to lose.”
“Doesn’t everyone? How do you know she’s done with this, this …
vendetta
?” I thought back to us on the beach earlier today and felt irritated that Jack had willingly put himself,
us
, at risk again.
“I don’t,” Jack admitted.
I let out a wobbly breath. “I can’t—”
“I know,” Jack interjected sharply and fisted his hands with frustration. “I know you don’t want this. But I’ve done everything I can to make sure her part in this is done. I just can’t promise about anything else. I just don’t know.” He got up and paced toward the offending window, glaring at it, his hands clutching his hair again. “Shit.”
“Well, you invited it the other night by going public at the Grill. So it’s probably just a matter of time before someone comes here to follow you around, or whatever it is they do. Stalk you,” I added bitterly. God, I hated this version of me. This bitter, fearful, miserable version of me. Jack brought out my best parts and my worst parts.
I slid my legs off the bed and reached for my heap of clothes. I pulled his boxers off under the t-shirt and got my underwear back on as modestly as possible.
Jack paced back from the window to the door to the room, my exit, blocking it, but keeping his back to me as he clutched the frame.
Satisfied he wasn’t looking, even though
I
was mesmerized by the fact I could outline every muscle in his back, I pulled his t-shirt off, put on my bra, and hastily followed with my top and pants. I sat back down on the bed and gathered up his borrowed clothes. “I’ll wash these—”
“Don’t.”
I stopped. “Don’t wash these?”
Jack turned around and grabbed the t-shirt and boxers from me, tossing them aside. “Yes, don’t wash those, but I meant don’t leave. Not like this.”
“Jack—”
He sank to his knees in front of me, his hands on my legs, pushing them apart and making room. “I’ll keep us a secret. I promise. I want to tell the whole damn world, but I’ll keep it to myself or kill myself trying, if it means I get to keep
you
.”
I gulped down the ball that seemed to be lodged in my throat. “I’m not leaving you, Jack,” I whispered, running a hand down his chiseled face, grazing over his stubble.
He closed his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have come here today if I wasn’t willing to deal with the bad as well as the good. You know that.” I slid my hands into his soft hair and leaned forward, resting my forehead against his.
“Dammit, Keri Ann.” He ran his hand up and fisted it in my wavy mass, pulling it tight. “How do you do this to me? I’m completely out of control. Since I met you, every emotion I have is tied to how I think you’re feeling. I’ve never felt like this in my life.”
“Same here,” I breathed and curled my other hand around his thick forearm. “I think … I think this is new for both of us.”
Jack opened his eyes and looked at me for several long moments. Then he kissed me, a long, but chaste kiss, and got up to his feet. “I know you have to go.” He offered me a hand. “Can I walk you home after your shift?”
I smiled, remembering the first night I’d met him, when he’d ended up doing the same. “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you.”
“Still have my number?”
“Yes.” I laughed. “Though I thought of deleting it at least once a day. Still have mine?”
God, why did I ask that? If he said no …
“Yes,” he answered, in a tone that suggested I was crazy. “And
I
thought about
texting
you at least once a day.”
I wish he had, we could have avoided lots of misunderstandings. Then again, it could have made it worse. And I had no idea how we were going to move forward with “us.” It was obvious he was more comfortable with his “celebrity” than I’d assumed when I met him, even though he still didn’t relish it. But just like I wanted to announce my relationship with Jack to all the people in my life, Jack obviously wanted to do the same. But the people in his life … were
the citizens of the whole freaking world
, with all of their judgments.