“I will, I mean. I know we both will,” I tell Denise clumsily. Feeling like I’ve not only made a friend in a few minutes. But a lifelong ally and partner as much as I have in her son.
“Write your articles, do what makes you happy. We’ll both be here for you,” she adds, putting her fingers to her lips when I look up and glancing towards the kitchen, signaling me to keep her exit quiet.
Leaving me and Jack alone again, together. Just how I know she wants us to stay, forever.
I swipe the warm tear from my cheek before Jack sees it, knowing it would bother him, but it’s not a sad tear.
A friend I never had before. Maybe the mother I never knew myself.
It’s not a sad tear that I feel when I watch Denise leave, that’s for sure. Made happier with the knowledge that it won’t be long before I see her again either.
She just has that effect on me.
“Well, where’d she get to?” Jack asks abruptly, coming back into the room in time to hear the front door closing.
“I hope she didn’t-” he starts to asks, but I shake my head gently.
“No, she didn’t. Just had someplace else to be. I hope we’ll see more of her though, your mom?” I ask Jack, looking up and reaching for his hand.
“Uh, okay. I guess,” he murmurs to himself, sitting on the edge of my seat.
“I generally don’t see a lot of her as a rule,” he observes, but noting how relaxed and happy I seem now, he only makes one final conclusion.
“But I guess if she doesn’t bug you, we can see more of her.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him, quietly reminding him that if I have no real pressing work to worry about anymore, maybe we can pick up where we left off a few moments ago.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he croons, sliding in closer and letting his hands find mine again.
Our bodies soon entangled as he begins to show me around my new apartment.
Or is it our new apartment?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack
The bacon pops in the pan, making me wince for a second when the spitting fat hits my naked abs.
Until I see and then feel her welcome hands wrap around me from behind.
“About the only fat I’ll see you wearing,” she teases me, pinching my rear and reminding me internally that I have to work out at some point.
“I’m not totally immune, you know,” I remind her, feeling her grip loosen as she drifts off behind me towards the freshly brewed coffee, which bubbles and hisses as much as the bacon, sausage, and eggs in the pan in front of me.
I don’t have to look over to see her roll her blue eyes to the ceiling, but I don’t have to worry about her not wanting to eat her fill either.
She knows just how I like her.
All natural. And those curves of hers aren’t going anywhere. We’ve been over this a hundred times.
And I’ve been over her curves enough times to remind her it’s just how I like her.
The way she was made, and she’ll eat everything I put in front of her too. I won’t have my girl having anything but the best, including Jack Mercury’s famous breakfasts.
It’s been a while, a few weeks since Olivia decided to stay and I have to say, I’ve never been happier.
The phone hasn’t rung for either of us.
The few news reports I’ve seen haven’t been bad.
But then again, we haven’t exactly left the building and I’ve made sure the phones and other electronic devices have been set to mute more often than not.
With her permission, of course.
It was hard for the first few days, or was it?
But in no time we both got used to just our own company, the sounds, and sensations of each other, reaching for the outside world only when it was absolutely needed for things to eat, drink and wash with.
That’s what it feels like anyway, even though the place is pretty well stocked. I can only recall dialing out for a few things here and there. And Denise? The studios? Well, neither’s hardly been in touch at all which is fine by me.
Once the toast is to my liking, I set everything on our plate before loading up the tray and heading back to bed.
Looking up from her laptop, and sipping just some of the coffee before handing it to me in a giant mug, we settle down to share our brunch together.
Olivia’s not a big coffee drinker, and I’m not a huge fan of Avocado or toast, so between us, we easily find the perfect solutions to this and plenty of other meals by sharing.
Except for pasta.
That’s a no-brainer, with separate bowls and plates of pasta and plenty of other favorite dishes, but brunch or breakfast, we can usually share without any problems.
“You working on something?” I ask her, noting her studious look.
“I am now,” she murmurs with a quiet grin, signing off on an email and folding her laptop closed after hitting ‘send’.
“Something scandalous. Something ruinous?” I ask her in a mock dramatic tone, creasing my face until I see hers.
“Just a little something. A side-project about a famous Hollywood star and his life story,” she teases me right back.
I feel my jaw opening, silently pleading ‘No.’ But her swift grin and shrug tell me everything.
It’s got my agent mom and the girl of my dreams in a conspiracy written all over it.
It makes me smile as I lay back, chomping into thick toast and only imagining what the pair of them must be up to.
Hoping it makes them happy and maybe even roasts me a little when whatever it is they have planned comes out.
“It’s all good,” she promises me, taking a bite of our toast from her side. “All very cute and very good pics of a young and handsome actor, up and coming-” she tries to warn me before I have a hand of my own under the covers, reminding her just how ‘up and coming’ this handsome actor still is.
“Anything else you’re working on?” I ask her eventually, genuinely needing to know that she’s got everything she needs and wants to do what I know she does best.
“I’m fine, Jack,” she tells me, pecking my cheek and nuzzling into me once I set the tray to one side.
The sound of her keystrokes once we’re done eating sends me dozing off again after a while. Reminding me she doesn’t feel interrupted by me to keep her from working when she’s in the mood.
Nor do I mind her and my mom working so close together on anything.
Getting up a little later only to do the dishes and make sure we have enough supplies for our next few meals in between what we do best, I realize something.
It hits me like a thunderbolt. I remember the one thing my mom asked me to treasure. Or rather, her mom’s mom all those years ago.
My grandma, long before she passed. Long before my dad left us and I remember hearing my mom crying over it.
I’d only forgotten about it because I never had to think of it until now.
Not because I have to think of it either, but because I want to.
I suddenly realize what it all means. How important it all is.
Why family matters so much.
But where did I put it, and is it even here in the apartment?
I set to work to find it, and after a time I become aware of Olivia searching me out, calling for me as I keep searching.
Thinking of nothing but her the whole time.
“You okay, Jack?” she asks. “I missed you than heard you scratching around.” I hear her say from behind me, turning on the light and asking me again if everything’s okay.
“It is now,” I murmur. Holding the worn velvet box tighter in my fingers as I turn to kiss her.
It is now.
“How are you doing though, really?” I ask her, not meaning just her work projects either.
“I’m great,” she says cheerfully. “Probably more work than I thought though, to be honest,” she admits, suddenly looking down at her feet.
“Do what you feel like doing, and leave th
e rest to someone else,” I remind her, making her smile as she looks back up at me.
“That’s the same advice your mom gave me,” she admits, leaning against me.
“What were you looking for?” she asks. Stifling a yawn before I show her the box.
“I’m supposed to choose my moment a little better,” I confess to her.
Supposed to be on my knee.
Hearing her ask if I’ve found what I’m looking for though, well now is as good a time as any to really find out.
To ask her at least.
“Choose your moment?” she asks. “To show me a box? Are you sure you’re okay, Jack?”
Of all the lines I’ve gone over in my life, I’ve never had so few that were so easy but so hard to get out at the same time.
“Olivia, I was looking for this,” I tell her, opening the box, watching her face as it registers where this is going.
“I’m not much good at waiting, not since you came along. And you don’t have to say yes or no right now, just hear me out…”
I have a million things I want to tell her. How she’s changed me. How I can’t live without her.
All the hopes and dreams I have for us both to share already, how much I want her to be the mother of my children as well as my wife.
My best friend. Forever.
I had all the words in my mind earlier, was only looking for the ring to put it to one side, wait for the moment to be perfect.
Wait for the best time.
But as I stand in front of her, speechless. Her tiny fingers lacing into mine as they tremble a little, holding the box open. I realize that the only perfect time to tell her is right now.
It’s only ever going to be perfect whenever I’m with her, so how can I lose?
She watches me with my mouth open, saying nothing but trying hard to tell her everything I feel with the touch of our hands before she says yes.
Quiet at first, but it’s the only word I need to hear.
“I mean, we don’t have to set an actual date or anything… I just… I mean, I need…Will you...” I stammer.
“Yes,” she says again a little louder, gripping my hand a little tighter, waiting for me to slip the ring on her finger.
“I thought you were gonna ask me that first night,” she confides in me, blushing and reminding me how I’ve wanted to ask since the moment we met.
“I didn’t want to scare you off,” I admit, sliding the ring over her finger, marveling at how it’s the perfect fit.
Destiny.
“Just tell me again,” I ask her, not wanting the moment to end but needing to hear it just one more time.
“Yes, Jack,” she promises me, sealing it with a kiss.
“Yes now, and forever after that. Yes.”
Epilogue
Two Months Later
Olivia
We didn’t set a date, not straight away but once Denise got wind of the news we were engaged, well that was that.
We’ve learned a lot about each other in such a short time, and as much as I’ve enjoyed it, I can see why Jack and his mom kind of work better over the phone rather than in person.
Denise and me though, get on great. It’s like having the mom I never had in real life and once I see how organized she is I ask Jack if we can’t just let her arrange everything.
“I want it to be our special day. Just us,” he groans.
“But it is,” I encourage him and peck his cheek, politely overlooking the fact that half of Hollywood is going to be turning up and there’s a documentary being filmed to mark the occasion.
A little side project of Denise and mine. And one I haven’t exactly told him about yet either.
Oops.
But there’s plenty to keep him busy too, and despite all the big names and publicity, it’s still going to be a small intimate service where it counts.
Small. There’s that word again. And I thought I was big before the dress fittings.
The seamstresses from the studio are so nice, never complaining when the dress needs to be let out for the fourth then the fifth time.
“It’s a good thing the ceremony’s today,” Denise quips so only we can hear. “I think we’d run out of fabric otherwise.”
She’s helping me into the dress we had made, a reproduction of her grandmother’s dress I’d have no hope of fitting into.
People from back then were just tiny, plus the lace and whatnot. It was just easier to copy it, and it’s a stunning dress. Everybody thinks so, except Jack who hasn’t seen it yet.
“How’s Jack?” I ask Denise, thinking about him more than ever now after agreeing to the traditional not seeing the groom before the wedding day thing.
Another Denise suggestion, but one I don’t really mind.
“People don’t get married properly anymore,” was her argument for the full traditional, which I was keen on from the start. Jack not so much so.
“People don’t have their elderly agents running their whole lives either,” he growled, which Denise pretended not to hear but I know it hurt her just a little to hear him say that, but we’ve been best pals since so I hope that makes up for it.
“So, you got something old, something new, something borrowed…” Denise counts off as I try to take a breath in while she adjusts the dress from the back.
“Something blue,” I tell her, nodding confidently.
She tilts her head in a question but I explain. “It’s something for our wedding night. Something under my dress.” She seems more than happy with that.
“And when are you gonna tell him about the other thing?” she asks casually, putting a pin in the corner of her mouth and taking a step back to examine me, satisfied with her handy work.
“The other thing?” I ask innocently, wondering what I could have possibly forgotten.
“Or does he know already?” she asks, looking at me sideways, not sure she should say much more.
I feel dizzy again and sway, she grips me firmly and sits me down in front of the mirror.
“Honey, you know this isn’t all Jack’s cooking do you?” she asks softly, gently placing a hand over my belly, making me flush a deep red with embarrassment.
I’m not sure what I think, but I know I feel a mix of emotions rising up inside me, blending with the sensation I’m about to be sick again today.
I thought it was nerves.
“You mean you think I’m really...?” I ask Denise looking up at her, watching her head shake in disbelief a little before she smiles knowingly.
She leans in to hug me, wiping my tears as she congratulates me.
“Honey, I thought you already knew,” she whispers, stroking my hair. “Not that I’m a doctor, but I mean…”
She’s right. I knew it at the second dress fitting, I knew it from the first night Jack and me...
I just knew it.
Does he though?
I ask Denise if she thinks Jack knows, making her smile, a silver line of her own tear forming in her shining eyes.
“Oh, Jack wouldn’t know if the sky was falling, Olivia. I think this is the best wedding present. The best present ever,” she tells me, choking up.
We both choke up until I’m just plain old bawling.
So happy on so many levels, only wishing Jack were here right now to share this beautiful moment.
“I don’t mean to rush sweetie, but we have like five thousand people waiting to watch you and Jack say I do, well maybe not that many,” she suddenly says with a lot less tact than we just shared.
I feel my stomach drop from the inside and nod firmly. “Right. Okay,” I tell her, letting her guide me up out of the chair and back to have my hair and face straightened before we head out.
The service is small, upfront. But before that, before we reach the studio lot that has the studio set of a church, there’s everyone who’s invited, and maybe a few more who aren’t. All turning up to wish Jack Mercury the best on his special day.
With no dad of my own to give me
away, it’s Denise who walks me down the aisle before we even reach the church.
It’s a real church, with a real minister, just inside the studio lot which makes sense because it’s really the only place big enough and one where they could film so many people.
Studio head, Marcel Goodwyn is playing best man. Something Jack only shrugged at but it was kind of the clincher to let us have the wedding in the studio and film it.
He’s never had a family, so it’s a long story.
But long story short, he’s happy for the day, pretending to be an actual human with feelings.
“You okay?” Denise murmurs, gripping my arm as she helps me. I nod.
“Feel like I’m gonna throw up, but this is still the best day of my life,” I tell her honestly.
“Me too,” she whispers, squeezing my hand all the way up to the altar where we can see Jack’s huge outline even from this far back.
My heart is in my throat by the time we finally reach Jack, and I feel my hand slip from Denise’s into his making everything alright straight away.
I haven’t seen him for almost a full day, the longest we’ve ever been apart, and his hand in mine is the best feeling.
As soon as Jack’s eyes meet mine, they’re full of questions, mostly about the camera crews I figure, but we can argue about all that later.
I grimace a smile in the meantime and we both settle into the rehearsed lines, which I realize quickly too that he’s way ahead of me on, being his job to remember lines.
By the time we get to the “I do’s” I feel like I need the bathroom more than anything, and even though Jack has me firmly in his hand, I feel the whole church starting to swim in front of my eyes.
I zone out for a second, then hear the priest ask me again. “Do you take Jack to be your husband?”
Looking into Jack’s eyes I can see his concern at my moment’s hesitation, but his look changes again when I hear myself say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I’m pregnant.”
I finally manage to get out an official, “I do,” but becoming Jack’s wife is a close second place to knowing we’re both gonna be a mommy and a daddy.
Hollywood Hearts: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 12
