Mistletoe & Hollywood (8 page)

I sniffed and nodded. “Thank you.”

She smiled and patted my hand.

“So what’s in Hastings?” I asked. “Is that where his friend from school lives who Nigel mentioned?”

“Yes. Max. I didn’t realize they’d gotten back in touch, but I for one am happy to see him reintegrate parts of his old life with his new life. He’d cut all ties, you know? Refused to even acknowledge his childhood here. Max is a good sport, owns an old house by the fishing docks in Hastings that he’s turned into a successful restaurant and inn.”

“So them getting back in touch won’t blow Jack’s identity then? Aren’t you worried they’ll come and harass you?”

She laughed. “I’m sure people would care for about a split second, but then who’s going to give a toss what some over-the-hill lady like me is doing down here in the middle of the countryside on a daily basis? I think Jack cares more than I do, frankly. But anyway, it’s been wonderful in the sense that he has this safe place to come to where no one would ever think to look. That would be gone. I think that’s why we’ve all worked hard to keep it hidden so long. But anyway, Max is a good chap. I can’t imagine him ever telling anyone Jack’s real name. They’ll just think he had a celebrity friend. That’s all.”

I failed to hold in a huge yawn.

“Oh me too, look at the time.” Charlotte glanced at the delicate antique-looking watch on her wrist. “Jeff and I are going up to London tomorrow, together. I need to do some last minute shopping, and we’re due for dinner with friends. We’ll be back the following morning. Is that all right? Will you two be all right here for meals and what not?”

Alone.

With Jack.

For twenty-four hours.

I could have kissed her. As it was, I hugged her good night and took a glass of water for Jack. Tomorrow I needed to sort things out between us, lay some of Jack’s fears to rest, and get naked with him as soon as possible.

SLIPPING INTO THE
darkened room, I left the door to the lighted bathroom open so I could see where I was going with Jack’s water. It was a good thing I was wide awake on American time because I had a lot to figure out in my head.

We were three days into our three weeks together, including travel time, and things weren’t going the way I’d imagined. We’d been desperate for this time together. The last few months had consisted of intense moments stolen from our otherwise single and busy lives, him with work, me with school. The few weekends we’d managed were focused and protected from the outside world by going to extraordinary lengths, and we’d never addressed anything beyond our happiness to be together. The island of Daufuskie near my hometown resort of Butler Cove had been a destination more than a few times due to its difficult access. And Jack didn’t have a problem flying. Perhaps we’d put too much pressure on ourselves. Jack had gone running from us today, but I wasn’t necessarily mad. I recognized my own culpability in the situation.

In the early days I’d had to watch as each new week brought another random woman from the pages of media sensationalism, claiming to have had a piece of the cheating Jack Eversea. Mostly, we’d tried to avoid seeing any media, but it was almost impossible. Jack’s reputation as a cold and careless Lothario grew stronger with each publication, and our spirits had dimmed in response. Trying to believe it was all lies had put my heart and my pride through an unimaginable house of horrors last summer. But seeing how each new article hurt Jack had definitely solidified the fact we were in it
together
. I thought we’d grown stronger since then, but perhaps we really hadn’t. Perhaps,
I
hadn’t.

I set the water down gently, so caught up in my thoughts, I jumped as a warm rough hand clasped mine.

Jack was watching me from where he lay the same way I’d left him. Face down but with his head turned to the side. Light from the bathroom sliced across his face, illuminating his glassy green eyes and dark stubbled jaw. His soft brown hair glinted, and I itched to slide my fingers through it.

“You scared me.” I breathed out a small laugh. “I brought you some water.”

He blinked slowly, and his hand squeezed mine gently. “I often wonder,” he whispered so softly I leaned closer to hear, “what would have happened if Audrey’s story had come out before you decided we were worth a shot.”

I swallowed, heavily. “What do you mean?” Audrey’s story of Jack cheating on her with me, as well as countless other women, had hurt. Despite it all being lies, she’d won the sympathy of celebrity gossips everywhere when she claimed the stress of it had made her lose their baby.

“I mean… I don’t think we’d be together.”

“Jack,” I said, my voice catching. “What are you saying?” I sank to my knees on the floor by his bed, close to his head.

“Not on my part, baby, don’t worry.”

“So on
my
part then?” I asked.

He didn’t respond, just watched me in the darkened room, his gaze heavy on my heart.

I shifted toward him more and pressed my hand against his back, the warmth of his body seeping through his shirt, trying to understand where this was coming from. Then I gave in to the need to slide my fingers through his silky hair. “Jack?” My voice was confused and thready.

He closed his eyes in a long blink. “I often thank my lucky stars you are so good at doing things you set out to do,” he said quietly, opening his eyes again. They were deep and shining and settled on me. “Determined to stick by your decisions. I’m always grateful you picked us before the shit hit the fan. I’m not sure you would have if the shit had hit first.”

A huge lump materialized in my esophagus. I drew my hand from his hair, confused by what he was saying or why. Thinking back on that time was hard. We’d gone through so much. But I knew in my heart, I would have always picked Jack. He knew it too. Surely.

“You’re drunk, Jack.” I shook my head.

“Would you have?” he pressed, his eyes suddenly revealing his vulnerability.

My heart heaved. How long had he been feeling this? Had I just not seen it?

“Would you have fought for me?” he asked.

I thought back to the moments when I’d let doubt creep in, even before the scandal had thrown our lives upside down. I knew my indecisiveness about giving Jack another shot hadn’t made for the most convincing case, but what did he expect? Of course I’d needed time to get my head and my heart aligned. Life wasn’t a movie script where someone said the one magic word or phrase that erased all doubt and misconception and suddenly everyone understood and all was forgiven. We’d gone through this. I thought we’d moved past it.

“Do you even want to be with me? Or will it cause too much publicity to break it off?”

I inhaled sharply. Knowing he was coming from a vulnerable and scared place took the edge off, but it still stung.

“Never mind. Don’t answer that.” Jack breathed out and rolled onto his back. He brought his hands up and tucked them under his head, his soft T-shirt stretching over his chest and rising up to reveal a strip of taut abdomen.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer,” I tried, keeping my voice steady. “I think you’re asking me whether I truly love you and want to be with you or if I’m just sticking with you to prove to the world I wasn’t one of your bimbos. And frankly I’m not sure what that says about how you think of me.” I folded my arms, protecting my heart. “Of us.”

Shit, did he bring me all the way to England to break up with me?
Okay, head case Keri Ann. Seriously
? I tried to take a deep breath, but it caught as my chest seized. My eyes and nose prickled to hold in the agonizing possibility. Damn it. I blew out a breath. And tried to get on an even keel with him. “You know the answer to that, Jack. You know I picked you and would do it again, and again, in a thousand different ways. I love you. I do fight for you. Everyday that I don’t let malicious gossip slip through my trust in you. My belief in you. In us. Everyday that I live this life with you and let myself believe you picked this normal, boring small-town girl instead of a thousand willing beauty queens—” My voice caught, and I stood up, mad that I’d let his drunken ramblings upset me. I should have just let him sleep it off.
But he is telling you his truth without any inhibitions. This is what has been on his mind.
My inner voice was a real pain in the ass.

His hand reached out and grabbed mine again, and he used it to half pull himself up to sitting, swinging his legs off the bed. His upper body swayed a moment, and then he brought his forehead down to rest low on my waist, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me to stand between his thighs. “Jesus, baby. I’m sorry. I drank too much.” He exhaled, his breath hot against my belly. “I could stand in front of a thousand women who people tell me are the most beautiful, the most sexy, and you are still the most stunning woman in the world. You’re the
only
woman in the world. The only girl I see.” His face tilted up toward me. “Who I will
ever
see.”

I sank my hands into his hair, holding his head. “You’re the only one I see too.”

His face eased against my abdomen, his cheek nudging my top until I felt his stubble against my stomach. His warm mouth followed, sending shivers over my skin in the chilled room. “And though you’re far from boring… or normal,” he added with a slight slur and a chuckle, “the description—normal boring small-town girl is the description of my dream girl. Then you add this soft skin…” His mouth moved over my belly and his hand closed in a firm grip on one of my pajama-bottom-clad butt cheeks. “And this incredible ass…”

“Jack!” I squeaked, conscious of our conversation carrying.

He looked up. His eyes weren’t quite focused. “And that freaking unbelievably beautiful face. Those eyes that tell me so much with no words. Those sexy freckles…”

“I don’t have freckles.”

“Faint, sure. But you do, across your nose and upper cheeks.”

I pursed my lips.

Jack didn’t finish his train of thought but rested his forehead on my belly again, and his hands tightened on my pajama pants at the side of my hips and pulled down gently.

“What are you doing, Jack?” I whispered and went to still his hands.

“Let go, Keri Ann.”

Something in his voice and his breathing made me comply, and I stood still as his hands pushed my pajama pants down my thighs, and then, after a sharp inhale by Jack as he took in my lack of underwear, down to the floor.

The cool air of the room prickled at the skin on my legs. “Step out of them.”

I hesitated less than a second, and then toed my shoes off to the sound of a light chuckle from Jack. The return trip of his warm hands up my newly bared skin was hot and branding.

My breathing stuttered. “J-Jack.”

“Shh,” he breathed, his mouth moving in hot kisses down my belly. “I want to taste you.”

Oh. Holy shit.

My legs wobbled as my knees tried to hold the weight of heavy pulsing lust that had just broken the dam of pent-up longing I’d been so carefully handling. My hands shook, and I slid them into his hair.

“God, I love that sound you make.”

“What sound?”

I made a sound?

Jack’s warm, rough hand made contact with my inner thigh and immediately glided upwards. “Open your legs wider.”

I bit down on a whimper gasp thing. His buzzed state was certainly making him wordy. Bossy. Not that he wasn’t usually.

“
That
sound,” he said on a soft chuckle. His eyes were glassy but now focused.

God, I was already making noise, and he hadn’t done anything yet. We really should stop. We had the whole day tomorrow. Besides, after the amount Jack had probably had to drink. “Jack, I’m not sure you’re in any fit state to—”

His fingers found my slick flesh, already primed for him.
Traitorous body
.

I gasped.

“Ah, fuck, Keri Ann.” His curse, his voice, rough and low and laden with need, was as potent as the searing arousal caused by his moving fingers. They slid over me, teasing me, asking me, and then starting a slow and torturous rhythm.

Mashing my lips together, in order to seal my mouth closed, I tried to control my response. It was no use. “Jack,” I burst out, my body trembling.

“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes not leaving my face. The other hand gripping my hip moved up my chest, pausing a moment to scrape over the tip of my breast through my cotton top before moving up to my neck and my jaw.

Shuddering, I closed my eyes on a sigh, heightening the feel of his fingers moving and sliding between my legs, focusing. Circling. My hips responded of their own accord.

“Does it feel good?” he whispered.

I nodded against his hand on my cheek, my pulse pounding, my chest rapidly expanding and contracting.

“Tell me,” he said, and his fingertips on my face moved over my mouth coaxing it open.

“It feels a—amazing,” I stuttered.

Jack’s fingers between my legs slid back, and then forward… and then deep inside me.

“Oh my—Aaah—”

My desperate sound was abruptly muted down to a long whimper as the fingers at my jawline slid into my mouth. I quaked, my body rocking forward, driving him deeper between my legs, completely out of my control.