“I totally believe you. Good luck in Manhattan, girl,” she said, hugging me back and walking out the door.
The room was almost clear. I said good-bye to Nick, thanked Holly with a kiss on the cheek and a smack on the ass, and promised to keep it quiet when we got home later that night. She just smirked and said she’d see me in the morning.
After they left I finally walked back into the living room, where Jack was sitting on one of my big fluffy couches, and I launched myself at him. He caught me midair, laughing as I pawed at his chest like a big cat.
“I got rid of them,” I chirped, settling into his lap.
“You sure did,” he said, kissing my forehead.
“So, now what?” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Well, what do you want to do?” He snuggled me closer to him.
“Ummm, get naked and have sex in my new house?” I said, looking brightly at him.
“Hell yes, let’s get after it.” He laughed, picking me up and walking me toward my bedroom.
Though my new bed had been delivered, I hadn’t picked out sheets or anything yet. So I was surprised when we walked into the room and I saw that someone, probably the Brit currently holding me and looking at me expectantly, had appointed the bed quite nicely. Soft white sheets, blankets, a duvet, and tons of pillows dressed the California king, and the sheets were thoughtfully turned down. There was even candy on the pillows, hotel style.
“Candy!” I exclaimed, bringing a chuckle from the Brit.
I also noticed my overnight bag, alongside my white button-down shirt on the chair by the window next to his bag. I looked at him in surprise.
“I thought it might be nice to spend at least one night in your new house,” he said shyly.
“George?”
“Yes?”
“I freaking love you,” I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck.
“I love you too, Gracie,” he answered, and carried me into the room.
After the crazy love was through, we lay in bed. It was very late, although technically it was very early. I don’t think either one of us wanted to go to sleep. We lay next to each other on our sides, sharing the same pillow. I gazed at him, this man who had taken over my heart completely. I took in everything, memorizing the way his lashes swept down low to almost graze his cheeks. The strong lines of his face, the cheekbones, the jawline, the nose. The sexy stubble. The sweet, soft lips that were curved in that perfect smile that always made my heart beat faster.
And the curls. I remembered the way they looked that day on the way to the beach, the blond glinting in the sun. And the eyes, the green perfection. They were locked on mine, staring at me in quiet reflection. I guessed that he was cataloging my features as well, the way his eyes were poring over me.
In mere weeks, Jack Hamilton had turned my world upside down. He’d made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years, and I was grateful to him for it. I’d gone through years of quiet hell and had all but forgotten what it felt like to be revered so. I forgot what it felt like to be loved, which is why I think I fought this so long. He loved me thoroughly and completely, and while part of me was still looking over my shoulder to see who he was really looking at, I was coming to understand it.
I loved him that way in return. I loved him as hard as I could. The bubble we’d existed in for weeks was about to burst, but I wasn’t as nervous now to see what it would be like outside our bubble.
Because this was real life. And in real life, you are tested—simple as that. We’d be tested, and we’d have to see how we did. There were still issues to be resolved, but I was determined that we’d resolve them together. That was what grown-ups did . . . and how funny that this twenty-four-year-old guy reminded me about that. I was the one with the grown-up mortgage, but the guy with the messy apartment had taught me this.
He’d also taught me how to love my body again. Post-pudge Grace certainly had enjoyed the last year’s sexual freedom after such a long drought, but it was his absolute devotion to bringing me pleasure that made me love my body, flaws and all. I still saw them, but the fact that he adored me so made me grateful for how strong I truly was. And come on, the guy had practically built an altar to my cleavage. This tended to make a girl feel pretty good about herself.
I continued to stare at him, marveling still at how lucky I was to have him—and realized with surprise that he was lucky to have me, too. For whatever reason, he needed me as I needed him. And that was it.
He was the yin to my yang, the frick to my frack, the melba toast to my Chex.
We’d never stood a chance of trying to fight this—for me, he was the one.
I reached out to scratch his head and he moved closer to me, the gazing over. I cradled him to me and he stroked my breasts, nudging his head into the crook between my neck and my shoulder and wrapping his other arm around me, underneath me. He couldn’t get close enough.
“God, I’m going to miss you so much, Grace,” he whispered, his voice low.
I kissed his forehead, soothing him. “I know, love—me too.”
“We’ll be fine, right?” he asked.
He was the one who needed reassurance now, and I gave it to him. “Yes, Jack, we’ll be fine,” I crooned, rocking him slightly.
He let his breath out in a long, shaky sigh. “Is it terrible that there’s a tiny part of me that wants your show to suck, so you can come home in just a few weeks?” he asked honestly, showing me his heart.
“It’s not terrible.” I chuckled softly, touched by his question. I knew without a doubt that he wanted this success for me as much as I did.
We were both quiet then, our breathing in harmony as I felt his chest rise and fall. He continued his worship of my breasts, his hands soothing me now. It wasn’t sexual in nature; it was simple pleasure for us both.
“I love you, Grace,” he whispered, suddenly pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
“I love you, Jack,” I answered, wrapping my legs around him to get as close as possible.
Our bodies said what we couldn’t bear to say. He kissed me, I kissed him back, and then he slipped inside of me. We moved together quietly, peacefully. There was a tenderness in this night, a silent, sweet good-bye. As our bodies rose and fell in unison, our eyes filled with tears.
We sighed deeply as we came together, the union complete. He collapsed onto me and I hugged him tightly, keeping him inside as long as I could. Then we lay awake all night, neither of us wanting to close our eyes.
We spent the night talking quietly, laughing and swearing, giggling and promising. When it finally became light enough that I could no longer pretend it was night, we got out of the bed and into some clothes.
After I dressed I walked through my home, already looking forward to making it lived-in. Jack packed up my things from last night and met me by the back door in the kitchen. The mood had shifted this morning; the energy was different. He was quietly resigned.
I was quietly . . . excited?
I was excited.
As I walked through the kitchen, I slapped a Post-it note on my new Sub-Zero fridge, where not even a jar of mustard lived yet.
“What’s that for?” he asked, smiling tiredly.
I laughed, grabbing his sweet face in my hands. “I left myself a note for when I come back.”
“And what did you tell yourself?” He held the door for me as we walked out toward my car.
I threw my bag into it and took the keys from him. I wouldn’t get to drive in New York, so I wanted to soak up as much as I could. I dropped the top, fired up the tunes, and said, “It says, ‘Welcome home, Grace.’ ”
twenty-five
Breakfast was quick. Jack made Holly and me oatmeal while I made coffee and she sliced up bananas for our bowls. We talked hurriedly about last-minute plans. I’d be leaving my car at Holly’s. We figured it would be better to have it somewhere that someone actually lived. The two of them would check on my house every other week or so. There were still a few pi
eces being delivered, but between Jack and Holly, they had it covered.
I offered Jack the use of my car while I was gone but he declined, insisting he quite enjoyed his broken little car and saying, “Now that the car snob will be away, I’ll be pleased to drive it again.”
Jack and I beat a hasty path upstairs after breakfast, determined to sneak in as much time alone as we could before we needed to leave for LAX. My flight was at one, and we figured on leaving for the airport around ten.
It was already eight thirty.
We headed straight for the shower, dropping our clothes so fast, it was like someone was holding a gun to our heads, and I laughed. “It’s like Dead Man Showering,” I quipped as I wriggled out of my bra.
“It does have a certain finality to it, doesn’t it?” Jack chuckled as I struggled with the last clasp. “Can I please help you with that?”
He stood behind me as I held my hair up, and when it was finally off, his hands slipped down to the band of my panties and began sliding them over my hips.
“I don’t recall asking you to help with those, Sweet Nuts,” I said, scolding him, my breath catching in my throat.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion on this matter, Nuts Girl,” he growled as the panties went down. “Let’s go get wet.”
“Too late,” I said, the lower half of my body beginning to warm as his hands began to explore.
“Is that a fact?” he asked, walking me backward into the bathroom.
“Oh, like you’re not totally turned on?” Mr. Hamilton Junior was poking insistently at his boxers. My hands went up to his shoulders and I ran them down the length of his arms, while his snaked around my waist, pulling me to him.
“Why do you still have these on?” I asked, snapping the band on his boxers.
“You tell me, Crazy,” he said, reaching past me to turn on the shower.
I removed the offending boxers in the time it would take to say Hamiltonian Wake-up Call.
We scrambled in and lathered quickly. He washed my hair, covering me in bubbles. Then, of course, he held my boobies for balance while I washed his hair. He truly never tired of playing with them. I honestly think if he’d had his own pair, I might never have heard from him again. Luckily, I never tired of his playing with them, either. He had me moaning within seconds, and then groaning a minute later. He was taking my washing up very seriously this morning, and there wasn’t a place on my body he didn’t attend to. He brought me to three quick, intense orgasms, and before I knew it we were out of the shower and on the floor of the bathroom, with me on top, riding him in a frenzy, getting water all over the floor.
We fucked frantically, laughing when he knocked over the tower of toiletries with his foot, making baby powder and tampons rain down on us. We laughed when the squeak of his ass against the marble became almost louder than my groaning. And we really laughed when we came together, tension and giggles giving way to satisfaction.
I rolled off him, landing squarely on my cold flatiron. I yelped, and when he tried to help me, he hit his head squarely on the toilet.
I looked around at the state of the bathroom—the open shower door, the Always with wings and mascara strewn about the floor, the flatiron under my bum, and Jack rubbing his head.
I laughed until tears streamed down my face, my naked body jiggling in places that I knew couldn’t look good. And I didn’t care.
“I . . . love you . . . so . . . much . . . ,” I choked out.
“I love you too, Gracie . . . Always,” he said, deadpan, holding up a maxi pad.
I laughed so hard, my stomach hurt.
Jack crawled over to me, knocking bottles left and right with his knees, and kissed me square on the lips. “You’re crazy, but you’re my Crazy. I love it.”
Nine fifty-seven A.M.
I stood with Holly in the driveway while Jack put my suitcases in my car. I fought down the lump in my throat. I could tell she had one, as well.
“So, you have everything, right?” she asked. “Neil is going to call you tonight to check in. You have a meeting with him on Thursday after you get settled into the hotel, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m meeting him Thursday.”
“And you have your cell charger, right? You call my ass the minute you land. Do you have money for a cab into the city? It will be about forty-five dollars—don’t let them overcharge you.”
“I got it, Mom. I’ve been there before, you know. Probably more often than you.” I laughed at her mother-henning.
“I know, I know, asshead. I guess that’s it.” She pressed her lips tightly together.
“Okay, dillweed. I’ll call you when I land. Bye,” I said, hugging her quickly.
She just nodded her head, hugging me back just as hard. Then she pulled away and disappeared into the house. Holly always hated good-byes.
I turned to Jack, a little teary, and he reached for my hand. “You ready to go?” he asked quietly.
“Yep—let’s do this,” I answered, wiping away the tears that had escaped and climbing into the passenger side.
It was one of the few mornings ever in the history of L.A. with little traffic, and all too soon we were pulling into LAX. Jack insisted on parking and walking me in, though I wanted him to just let me out at the curbside check-in. My stomach was in knots and I knew how hard it was going to be to say good-bye to him.
We parked underground, and I swear you’ve never seen anyone take so long to remove luggage from the trunk as he did. We held hands, walking at a turtle’s pace toward the ticket counter, and I punched in my frequent-flier number, bringing up my itinerary. I was pleased to see I’d gotten an upgrade and would be in seat 3D, a window seat.
“Sheridan?” the counter agent called, and we moved forward. Jack placed my bags on the scale and we waited for her to wrap the tags around the handle.
“You’re checking two bags through to LaGuardia, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered. My voice was rough, and my throat felt like sandpaper. I could see Jack was starting to feel it, too.
She gave me my ticket and pointed me toward the security checkpoint for my terminal.
Jack slung my carry-on bag over his shoulder, and we walked away slowly, holding hands. Right before we got to security, he pulled me over to the wall, almost hidden behind a vending machine. He set my bag down, and I kept my eyes on the floor. I literally couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Grace? Come on, look at me,” he said, chiding me softly, his fingers slipping under my chin and lifting my face up.
The tears that had been building finally broke, and I clutched him to me fiercely. “Damn it, George, I’m going to miss you so much!” I cried, squeezing him as tightly as I dared.
“I know, Gracie, me too,” he said, not crying, but sounding like he could.
I breathed in his sweet scent and began to kiss every part of his warm skin that was exposed. His neck, his ears, his temples, his forehead, the little part of his chest that was exposed by his open collar, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, and finally his mouth, which was eager for my own. His hands swept across my back and my hips, his beautiful fingers spanning my waist almost completely.
I held on as tightly as I could, trying to express with sheer force how much I was going to miss him and how much it broke my heart to leave him.
“Grace? I just want you to know how glad I am that I met you. I can’t imagine my life without your crazy, sexy, beautiful ass in it now,” he whispered in my ear, bringing a fresh wave of tears and a smile from me.
“God, you’re amazing. I’m so lucky,” I whispered back, clutching him still tighter.
He was kissing my neck with a sense of urgency, burying his face in my hair and breathing deeply. When his lips found mine again we kissed until we were both breathless, his cheeks wet from my tears, and then he hugged me tightly again.
“I should go,” I whispered, my hands buried in his hair.
“Yes, you should,” he whispered back, beg
inning to let go.
I backed away, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and taking my boarding pass from his hip pocket.
“Call me when you land?” he asked, his eyes sad.
“Promise,” I answered, scratching his head one last time. He closed his eyes like a puppy, leaning into it, and I was close enough that I could feel the warmth of him.
“I love you, sweet girl.” He smiled, opening his eyes and leaning down for one more kiss.
“I love you too, Jack.” I smiled back.
Then I walked away. I showed the TSA officer my ID and boarding pass, then got in line. I couldn’t look behind me.
“Hey, Crazy!” I heard, and I turned around smiling, along with the other thirty people in line.
“Yes, Sweet Nuts?” I yelled back, to the general amusement of all around me.
“Knock their fucking socks off!” he yelled.
I laughed and lifted my hand in a good-bye. With one last sexy half grin he walked away, disappearing into the crowd. I was still smiling when I turned back to the line.
The woman in front of me smiled. “Boyfriend?”
“Yes. That was my boyfriend,” I answered, enjoying the word on my tongue.
“He’s cute. And that accent! Jeez, it’s hot—if you don’t mind my saying.” She laughed.
“I don’t mind—it’s totally hot.” I smiled again, wiped the tears away, and headed for my gate.
Once I was on the plane, my tears came back. I sat quietly sniffling, watching everyone else file onto the plane. The flight attendant had already offered me a cocktail, but I wasn’t ready for that yet.
One of the reasons I felt so sad was that I didn’t know when I would see him again. I could be in New York indefinitely—three months, a year. It was all dependent upon how well the show did and the kind of backing it received.
I knew Jack would be out to visit, and I knew that at some point I’d be able to get back to L.A., but not knowing when made it so difficult for me. Not to mention that I hadn’t slept alone in weeks, and I knew that tonight, when the lights went out and I didn’t have the Brit under the covers with me, I’d miss him something fierce.
The Redhead Series Page 25
