LEAP OF FAITH (15 page)

“The one I’m working on now?”

“Are there others?”

“It’s called
Mountain of Lies
,” he replied, glossing over her second question.

“Mountain of Lies,” she repeated. “You would never lie to me, would you?

“What reason would I have for lying?” 

He thought of the novels he’d written and neglected to tell her about, and how her father was paying him to watch over her. Of course, he intended to refuse any more payments as soon as he talked to Mr. Travis, but it didn’t negate the fact he hadn’t told Abby. Jack turned her in his arms, noting her solemn expression. 

“What’s really bothering you, Abby?”

“I need to trust you, Jack. I need to know when you tell me something, I won’t find out differently somewhere down the line. After all the lies Shane told me, I just couldn’t take another relationship like that.”

“I am
not
Shane,” he said sharply, the harshness of his voice surprising both of them. He took a deep breath, careful to gentle his tone. “Listen, honey, I know what he did tore you apart. You can ask me anything about my past and I swear I’ll tell you the truth, regardless of how sordid or incriminating it is.”   

“You’re teasing me now,” she said.

“I
am
trying to get you out of the somber mood you’re in, but I meant what I said. I won’t lie to you.”

She rested her head on his chest. Wasn’t omitting the truth the same as lying? 
Just tell me, Jack
. 

“I’m tired,” she finally said, “let’s go back to bed.”

Abby lay awake for a long time. After crawling into bed she had rolled onto her side, intending to put some distance between them, but Jack had other ideas and simply curled himself around her. One arm was under her head and crossed over her chest while the other lay heavily over her waist. She wondered if it was his way of keeping her from wandering away from him during the night again. Her back was against his chest, her bottom nestled between his thighs, and Jack’s legs were entwined with hers. She didn’t think a breath of air could squeeze between them. 

“I love you, Jack Burton,” Abby whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

“Jack, when are you going to invite me to your cabin?” 

Abby had been thinking about it a lot over the past few weeks. Maybe the reason he’d never asked her to his cabin was because he was afraid she would see the evidence of his success as an author. It nagged at her day and night until she felt she would go crazy if he didn’t tell her soon.

“Why do you want to go up there?” Jack said as he flipped the steaks on the grill. “It’s messy and there’s nothing up there that isn’t down here.”

“Messy? Now I know that’s not true. You’re a neat freak. Everything has a place and you get bent out of shape if anything gets shuffled even a little out of line.”

His brows drew together. “I am
not
a neat freak. I just don’t like playing search and rescue. If you always put things back in the same place, then they’ll be there when you need them.”

“I believe that’s called being a neat freak.”

He leaned over the lounge Abby was sitting on and gave her a long, lazy kiss. “You’re just as bad as I am, sweetheart,” he grinned and returned to the steaks.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, I’m just pointing out that I don’t believe your house is messy. What are you hiding up there, Jack?” What
was
he hiding, she wondered when his shoulders tensed.

“I’m not hiding anything so there’s no need to act so suspicious. It’s just…it’s my work space, that’s all.”

Abby flinched as a twinge of pain spiraled through her. “You don’t trust me in your work space? What do you think I’m going to do, steal your story outlines, maybe plagiarize your latest novel?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like anyone around my work area.”

“So your whole house is a work area?”

“No, it’s not,” he snapped, “can’t you just let it rest? I don’t want you there; can I make it any more plain?”

Abby blinked. “No,” she said stiffly, getting up from the lounge, “that came through loud and clear.”

“Abby, honey…”

“Piss off, Jack,” she said, slipping through the doorway.

He followed her into the house and found her in the bedroom, arms crossed, staring out the picture window. “Baby, I’m sorry. Old habits die hard. I’ve never had anyone up there while I was working on a novel.”

“Don’t worry, your sanctuary is safe. I won’t ask again.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“Forget about it, Jack.” She turned to face him. “Effective immediately, I’m declaring my bedroom a work space and right now you’re invading it.”

Looking thoroughly stung by her words, his tone was apologetic. “If it means that much to you…”

“I wouldn’t dream of trespassing onto the hallowed ground of your cabin,” she said as she brushed past him. “Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” She tromped off to the living room, scooped up her laptop, and returned to the bedroom where Jack was standing exactly as she’d left him. Abby lifted her chin obstinately. “You’re in my work space.”

“Come on, baby, be reasonable. Let’s have a nice dinner and talk this out.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Twenty minutes ago you said you were starving.”

“I seem to have lost my appetite.”

He took the laptop from her hands and set it on the nightstand, positioning himself so close to Abby that she was forced to tip her head back to look at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked weakly.

“You’re breathing is a little rough, honey, is anything wrong?”

“My breathing is just fine…” 

Jack laced his fingers through her hair. “Kiss me, Abby.”

“Is this how you’re going to handle it, Jack? You know, sex isn’t the answer to everything.”

He grinned and lowered his head, brushing her lips with his. “Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll leave you alone.” 

His voice was so low and sexy, Abby couldn’t even think straight. Resisting him was impossible. “Damn it, Jack,” she whispered, parting her lips in anticipation, “the steaks are going to burn.”

“This won’t take long,” he promised.

***

Abby glared at Jack as she straightened her blouse. “I’m still mad at you,” she huffed. 

“I can go another round,” he said with a rakish grin.

“No!” She backed away from him. “You’ve already taken what you wanted; now go take care of the steaks.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints.”

“Well…I’m still mad anyway.” He took a few steps in her direction. “Don’t even think about it, Jack, I mean it!”  

“Come on, baby, I said I was sorry.” He continued to move in her direction, slowly backing her up until she was trapped between his body and the wall. 

“Jack…”

Dipping his head to give her a sensuous kiss, his hands meandered down her waist and cupped her bottom, pulling her hips into his. “I told you I could go another round.”

“The steaks…”

“Can wait until you forgive me,” he finished her sentence.

“I don’t want to forgive you,” she pouted, “you hurt my feelings.”

Jack laughed softly. “And you told me to piss off.”

“You deserved it.”

“Look, honey, if you really want to check out my cabin, I’ll take you up there after dinner.”

“No.  You couldn’t pay me to go there now.”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Thirty minutes ago you were fuming because I told you I didn’t want to take you there and now you refuse to go.”

She crossed her arms. “You would take me, but you still don’t want me there. That really hurts, Jack.”

“Just give me some time, Abby. I’m not used to sharing my space with anyone.”

“I trusted
you
enough to let you type my novel.”

“It’s not the same thing,” he argued.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know. I guess maybe I’m not ready yet.”

Abby stared at him for a minute, a slow crushing pain winding its way through her chest. “I have an idea,” she said evenly, “why don’t you go back to your cabin until you think you
are
ready.”

“Abby…”

“I’m serious, Jack. You say you love me but won’t share something with me that is a major part of your life, a part of
you
. So maybe you’re not ready for this relationship either.”

“Abby, please…”

“Take your dinner with you.”

“Is this really what you want?”

“What I want is for you to decide if you want a relationship with me. I want all of you, Jack, not just the parts you choose to share with me. When you’re ready to do that, come back to me, I’ll be waiting.
”

Misery lined his handsome face. “I love you, Abby.”

“I know you do, Jack, but it’s not enough.”

***

Abby stared at her laptop trying to decide whether she should move on to the fourth chapter. It was almost midnight, well past the time she usually wrote, but she found that going to bed early served no purpose except to depress her. When Jack left two weeks ago, she was so sure it wouldn’t take him more than a day to figure out he loved her enough to trust her around his work. But as each day slipped by without so much as a phone call from him, she found herself wandering listlessly through the house until all hours of the night. 

She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, was barely even functional. Only when she was writing could Abby push thoughts of Jack to the back of her mind. She’d lost ten pounds and was even more depressed to find all of her clothes hanging off of her. There were hollows beneath her cheek bones, and too many nights spent tossing and turning had produced dark circles under her eyes, which undoubtedly looked more pronounced because her skin had taken on a sickly, pale hue. She didn’t even bother applying mascara in the morning because it was inevitably cried away sometime during the day. Her nerves were frayed due to the uncertainty of her relationship with Jack, but she was also still suffering side effects from giving blood; namely, fatigue and muscle weakness.

The nights were the worst. Sometimes as she lay half awake and half asleep, she would reach across the bed for Jack only to find it as cold and empty as the hole he’d left in her heart. More often than not, she cried herself to sleep and woke in the morning to start the whole process all over again. What little respite came late at night when she turned off all the lights and stood on her deck gazing up at Jack’s balcony. She was careful to stay in the shadows so he couldn’t see her, but every now and then, if the moon was bright enough, she caught a glimpse of him. It was silly, she knew, but she always whispered his name in the dark, praying that somehow the wind would carry her voice to him. 

Abby shut her computer down and turned off the lights, then slipped through the sliding glass doors. She closed them slowly, knowing even the soft sound they made might carry up to Jack if he was already outside. She didn’t want him to know she watched for him. Tucking herself in the corner, she waited for the better part of an hour before he came out on his balcony. He’d left his lights on this time so she was able to make out his muscular frame. 

“Please, Jack,” she whispered, the pain so raw she could barely breath, “please walk down the stairs, take the path, and come back to me.” 

She saw him tip his head back and the silhouette of the beer bottle he was drinking from, and then he turned and went back inside. Abby clutched at her chest, a genuine physical pain stabbing at her battered heart. He didn’t love her anymore. She’d pushed him too hard to make a decision and it was obvious to her now what that decision was. Jack Burton’s work would always be the most important thing in his life. 

She rose wearily and went back into her cabin, closing the sliding glass doors behind her. Overcome with fatigue and a burning thirst that made it difficult for her to swallow, she shuffled into the kitchen and pulled a glass down from the cupboard, but her hand was shaking so bad she had to set it in the sink to run the water. Even gripping the cup with both hands didn’t prevent the violent trembling from sloping water down the front of her blouse. Having gotten more on herself than in her mouth, Abby gave up and tried to set the glass down on the counter. 

She watched it slip from her weak grasp and shatter on the floor but was too worn out to do anything except stare at it for a moment before turning away and numbly making the short trek to her bedroom. It was fortunate she had worn sweats that day because her fingers lacked the strength to fight with the zipper of her jeans. Abby stepped out of the sweats and fell into bed without bothering to remove her top or panties. She made a half hearted attempt at pulling the covers over her before burying her face in Jack’s pillow and crying herself to sleep.

***

Jack buried himself in his work. He thought it would get easier the longer he stayed away from Abby. Instead, the empty ache deep in his chest seemed to deepen with each passing minute. Every morning he rose at five o’clock, drank a cup of coffee, and occasionally ate a piece of toast and then set to work. At nine forty-five, he stopped working and went to stand by the glass doors of his balcony. Each morning between nine forty-five and ten-fifteen, Abby opened the curtains in her bedroom, and for a few fleeting moments he caught a glimpse of her.   

Abby’s routine had changed over the past few weeks. She left the curtains open in the living room for the sunlight during the day and he could just make out the top of her head as she typed. Normally, she drew the curtains just after sundown, but the hours spent on her lap top had grown progressively longer since he’d left. Sometimes he fell asleep on the sofa and woke in the night to find her lights still burning bright. He worried about her constantly and wondered if she was taking care of herself. He’d had to remind her every day to take her iron pill and thought she might not be taking them without him around to prompt her. 

Jack didn’t understand what made him stay away. He loved her, there was no doubt in his mind or his heart, but she’d asked him to share a part of himself he wasn’t willing to give up. His novel was now well ahead of schedule and the love scenes had only gotten better. He still gave Abby credit for that because it was her image in his mind when he wrote. He gave his hero the thrill of touching her soft skin, allowed him to breath in the sweet scent of her hair, let him make love to Abby in a way Jack could only dream of now.

He wandered to the glass door and peered down at the cabin. The lights were off and he was relieved she had finally gone to bed early. It was going on the third week without having talked to her, touched her, and Jack’s whole body ached with a desperate need to be with her. Night after night he stood on the balcony looking down at her cabin, knowing all he had to do was follow the path and she would be in his arms again. If he could only bring himself to give her what she needed. But each night, he turned around and went back into his cabin, allowing another day to pass without her.

He left the window and returned to his laptop. He’d just finished the chapter where his heroine begins to suspect her lover is a serial killer. She’d followed him into the woods but lost him and had to work her way back through the dark forest alone. She loved him, wanted to trust him, but trusting him completely could get her killed. Jack rubbed his eyes. 
Trust
. It seemed like such a simple thing, such a simple request. Maybe if he’d told Abby the entire truth, she would have understood why it was so hard for him to give in.