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Intoxicated

Page 21

by Jeana E. Mann


  “You have no idea how turned on I am right now.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her bottom tight against his hips. The insistent hardness against her bottom suggested that he had a newfound appreciation for bookwork.

  “Jack! Pay attention. I’m trying to explain something here.”

  “No one’s stopping you, Popsicle.” He nuzzled his nose along the nape of her neck. “Go on. I’m listening.”

  “Well, you need to depreciate your assets and…Jack!” She drew in a ragged breath as his hands slipped beneath her sweater and moved upward. With one deft movement, he popped the front clasp of her bra and seized both her breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her nipples.

  “Keep talking, baby girl.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear. “You don’t mind if I bend you over this desk and appreciate your assets, do you?”

  “Um…no…I’m good with it,” she said and dropped the report to the desktop with a sigh of happy resignation. He unsnapped her jeans and yanked them down to her thighs.

  “I’d really like to spank this bottom.” He ran a reverent hand over the swell of her buttocks. “Will you let me do that?”

  “Right now?” Despite her best efforts, her voice trembled with excitement at the idea. She never knew what to expect from Jack. He liked to test her boundaries when she least expected it.

  A knock on the door brought a groan of disappointment from them both. Randy’s amused voice floated through the door.

  “Jack. There’s a girl out here that wants to talk to you. Says she knows you. She’s looking for a job.”

  “I swear that guy has some kind of radar,” Jack mumbled into her neck. “Well, shit.” He took her earlobe between his teeth, tugged then released it. He slapped her bottom gently and tugged her jeans up again. “Sorry, baby. Duty calls. I need a waitress for this weekend. Or you and I will be slinging drinks. Can you give me the office for a few?”

  “Sure. I need a break anyway.” She drew in a deep breath to steady her trembling knees. “I’ll go see if Randy needs any help.”

  Ally hummed under her breath as she stacked clean glasses on the shelf next to the cash register under Randy’s explicit direction. The guy seemed to enjoy giving her detailed instruction as if she’d never washed a glass before. As if! She had to admit that a few months ago, she would’ve turned up her nose at the thought of doing such menial work, but her priorities had changed drastically since then. For the first time, she contemplated the merits of a different life, one outside the stuffy confines of a corporate structure. She didn’t miss the constant pressure of deadlines or the bitter office gossip that always seemed to find her. She liked wearing jeans instead of suits and letting her hair float about her shoulders.

  Most of all, she liked working with Jack. They had been together nonstop since she lost her job taking breaks apart only when necessary. It surprised her how easily she adapted to his way of life. Despite his casual attitude and lazy demeanor, he worked hard at the business of running two drinking establishments. He slept little, worked a lot, and drank too much, but still found time to volunteer at a local children’s center and to spend time with her.

  Someone cleared their throat and put an abrupt end to her musings. She glanced up from her work expecting to meet Randy’s shrewd gray eyes but instead found a tall, slim girl with black hair and a heart-shaped face. The girl caught Ally’s glance and raised an eyebrow as if amused by some inside joke. Ally set down the glass she’d been holding and turned to face the girl. Slanted blue eyes as sharp and fierce as a cat’s raked over her. The girl slid onto one of the barstools, and Ally realized that she was pregnant.

  “Is Jack around? Tell him to get his ass out here. I need to talk to him.”

  “He’ll be out in a few minutes. He’s in an interview,” Ally said.

  The girl snorted. “Is that what he calls it these days? An interview?” Her wry amusement made the hair prickle on the back of Ally’s neck. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

  “I’m Ally, Jack’s girlfriend.” For good measure, she put extra emphasis on the word girlfriend. Better to set the scene right away than to let the poor girl embarrass herself needlessly. She wiped her hands on her apron and drew in a deep breath. No matter how many times she encountered Jack’s exes, his promiscuous past still irked her. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Chelsea. Jack’s wife.” The deliberate emphasis on the word wife held a cruel undertone.

  Ally’s stomach clenched as if she’d been punched in the gut. This beautiful exotic creature was Chelsea? Somehow it had been easy to forget about her during the last month. The annoying phone calls had stopped and Jack never mentioned her again. Ally assumed that the relationship had ended without event. The sickening smirk on Chelsea’s face made it apparent that it hadn’t.

  “You mean ex-wife, don’t you?’

  “No, we’re still married and expecting, too.” A slender hand came to rest on her round belly.

  Ally’s heart hit the floor with a sickening thud. Pregnant? Unable to breathe, she clutched her throat with one hand and fought to remain calm. The bastard was still married and his wife was pregnant? The room tilted as she struggled for breath and fought the urge to bolt out the door.

  “By the look on your face, I’m guessing he didn’t tell you.” Chelsea rubbed her belly with the satisfaction of a cat that had just enjoyed a very sweet bowl of cream. “Come on, Ally. Jack said you were really smart. You didn’t really think he’d ever be faithful, did you? To someone like you? We’re talking about Jack here. The man is walking sex…”

  “What’s going on?” Jack emerged from the hallway with a tall, slender blond in tow. When his gaze fell on Chelsea, he stopped in his tracks and the new waitress plowed into his back. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in rehab?”

  “Early release for good behavior. I just came from the doctor. I thought you might want to see the sonogram pictures.” She smiled and raised an eyebrow in Ally’s direction. “I’m sorry if I let the cat out of the bag to your flavor-of-the-day.”

  Ally fumbled at the apron strings, gave up, and yanked it off with the rending sound of fabric. The apron puddled on the floor at her feet. She needed to get out of there before she lost control and either burst into tears or punched Jack. Jack was behind the counter in two strides, blocking her path with a look of sheer panic on his face.

  Ally shoved Jack away with strength that shocked both of them then shoved him again for good measure. Married? The asshole was still married? And a baby on the way? Where was her damned purse? She found it at last in a drawer beneath the counter. Shoving the strap over her shoulder, she made her way to the door. Blinded by fury, she ran into the edge of a table, striking and bruising her hip.

  “Ow! Shit! Son-of-a-bitch!” She stumbled, recovered, and kept going. She didn’t trust herself to stop or she might be driven to unprecedented acts of violence. They would make movies about it later. Horrible B-grade slasher flicks about the spurned chick who slaughtered her unfaithful lover in a frenzy of supernatural violence.

  “Ally, wait. Hang on a minute. Let’s talk about this.” Jack appeared to have worked through whatever emotional turmoil was going on behind his fathomless black eyes and made a step toward her. She shot a look at him intending to wither his privates and set his hair on fire. It must have worked because he stopped short and took a step back.

  Hurt welled up inside her with painful intensity so sharp that tears sprang to her eyes. Somehow she could only think that this was her fault, that once again she had made the wrong decision, had chosen the wrong man. Would she never learn? The answer was yes. In that moment, she made a vow to herself. Never again would this happen to her. Never again would a man make a fool of her. Never again would she let someone behind her carefully construction wall of self-preservation. Never.

  “Seriously, Jack? That’s all you’ve got?” She snorted and shook her head, one hand on the door. “Because from where I’m standing, this looks prett
y bad.”

  He stopped halfway between her and Chelsea. His chest rose and fell as he took in a slow deep breath. The long fingers of his hands, so adept at pleasuring her body, curled into fists at his sides then relaxed. One side of him was bathed in soft yellow light from the tiny window next to the door, the other side obscured by the darkness of the bar. He looked more beautiful than ever, dark hair tousled.

  “I know it looks bad.” He came at her again and grabbed her by the biceps, willing her to listen. “But it’s not what you think. You’re getting all worked up over nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. You lied to me.” When he saw the look in her eyes, he released her and took a step back. “She’s pregnant, for heaven’s sake. Did you really think you could hide that?”

  “I didn’t lie…I just didn’t tell you.”

  “A lie of omission is still a lie.”

  “It’s not the same thing at all. It’s not like telling someone that you’re mother is dead when she’s not. Now that’s a lie.” His eyes were black and furious and directed at her…as if she was in the wrong.

  “Don’t you turn this around on me, Jack. I told you the truth about her.”

  “Only after you got caught lying to my face.”

  “This isn’t about me!” Her voice, raised to shouting volume, echoed through the empty room. “A dead mother who isn’t in my life is nothing like a living, breathing pregnant wife.”

  “Don’t yell at me. It’s not like I’ve been cheating on you. This was an accident.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.” She ripped her arm from his grasp and headed toward the door.

  Jack’s footsteps followed her. “I wanted to tell you, I swear. I wanted to tell you a million different times, but there never seemed to be a good time. You’ve had so much going on with your life…I just didn’t want to hurt you for no reason.” His voice held a pleading note that she’d never heard before.

  “It’s a moot point, Jack.”

  “Moot? What’s moot?” Chelsea asked from her barstool. “Who the hell talks like that?”

  The room became hot and claustrophobic. Ally clawed at the throat of her shirt, desperate for air.

  “Everything is always black and white with you, isn’t it? There’s never any gray as far as you’re concerned.” Jack threw his hands up in frustration. “Look, the divorce has been delayed by the baby but it’s still going to happen. I didn’t tell you about the kid because I don’t even know that it’s mine. I want a paternity test before I’ll believe it.” He glared at Chelsea. “It seemed stupid to worry you over something that might not even happen.”

  “Oh, it’s your baby alright.” Chelsea rose to her feet, blue eyes glittering with indignation.

  “Stay out of this,” Ally and Jack snapped in unison, their gazes locked together. Chelsea scowled but shrank back to her seat.

  “The fact remains that at some point or other you had sex with her.” The words were so distasteful that Ally could barely choke them out. “Did that happen before or after we met?”

  “Before. I swear to God. I haven’t touched another woman since we started seeing each other.”

  From the corner of her eye, Ally saw Chelsea shake her head in amusement and disbelief.

  “How can I believe you? If you lied about the baby, then maybe you lied about the rest, too.”

  “I don’t think that withholding information is lying.” Jack’s jaw tightened with stubbornness. “Especially if I did it out of concern for you…”

  “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. The fact remains that you’re still married to her. She’s pregnant. And we are over.” She didn’t wait to hear any more of his lies. Instead, she bolted out the door into the fine mist of rain.

  When Ally walked out the door, she took all of Jack’s happiness with her. It was as if someone had drawn the shade on a window into his future, shutting out the light and leaving him in suffocating darkness. He started after her, but she jumped in her car and sped out of the alley with an angry squeal of tires and grinding of gears.

  “Let her go, Jack,” Chelsea said. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but snapped it shut when she saw the look in his eyes.

  “What did you say to her? You said something else to get her worked up.” With fists clenched, he charged at her. If she’d been a man instead of a pregnant female, he would’ve thrown her off that barstool and beaten the shit out of her on principle. Fortunately for her, at the sound of raised voices, Randy emerged from the back hallway and stepped between them.

  “Take a breath, brother,” Randy said. He put a hand on Jack’s chest. “Not that she doesn’t deserve it.”

  Chelsea didn’t flinch but raised an eyebrow and smiled. The crazy bitch was enjoying the show a little too much for his liking. He should’ve known. This was what she did. Every damn time his life got a little too sane…a little too normal for her liking…she swooped in like a bird of prey. But Randy was right; he took a deep breath and stepped back, shaking his head to clear away the violent urges.

  “This is your fault. You had no business telling her.” His hands shook with fury as he searched his pockets for his truck keys. He had to find Ally and explain.

  Chelsea’s voice quivered with mirth. “You’re right. It wasn’t my place to tell her. You should’ve told her. So don’t be pissed at me. You fucked this up all by yourself.”

  Randy dug into his own pocket and pressed the keys to his car into Jack’s hand but didn’t release them right away. “Maybe you should give it a little time. You both need to cool off.”

  Jack paid no attention but sprinted toward the exit.

  “You’re going after her?” Chelsea’s high-pitched voice followed him to the door. “Are you kidding me?”

  Jack stopped at the door and turned to face Chelsea, chest heaving with emotion. “Yes. I’m going after her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Because she didn’t know what else to do, Ally drove around without destination until it grew dark and she was too weary to go any further. Then she went home and sat in the dark, staring at the wall like a mindless fool. Jack called her cell phone repeatedly. She let the first few calls go to voicemail then shut off the ringer. She just couldn’t deal with his excuses and lies. Her heart broke every time she thought of it. He had lied to her…had let her believe that she was the only woman in his life…that she meant more to him than the women of his past.

  The concept of Jack as a married man with a wife and child on the way invoked a raging jealousy within her so powerful that she wanted to punch something. She had visions of Jack sitting at the dinner table with a baby on his knee and Chelsea at his side. She should be the one at his side. It should be their child on his knee, not Chelsea’s. And why did Chelsea have to be so pretty? Why couldn’t she be the gap-toothed, pock-marked, drug addicted hag that Jack’s conversations had painted?

  Because he’s a liar, she thought. He lied about everything else, why wouldn’t he lie about the way Chelsea looked, too?

  You didn’t really think he’d ever be faithful, did you? To someone like you? We’re talking about Jack here. Chelsea’s words echoed through her brain, scorching her heart like a flaming arrow of truth.

  Of course, Jack could never be faithful. The man was too beautiful and too sexed up to be contained by any one woman. Suddenly, a memory of her mother came to mind. Memories of her mother were vague and rare, but she had a sharp vision of her mother seated in a chair by the window of her childhood home, crying into a tissue, waiting for her father to come home. And even though she’d been a mere toddler at the time, the memory of her mother’s voice was loud and clear, thick with pain. “Never fall in love with a man that’s more beautiful than you, Ally. Women will always be chasing him and you’ll always be wondering if he’s chasing them back.”

  A twinge of empathy for her mother caught her by surprise. Had her father been the source of her mother’s depression and mi
sery? It would explain a lot about her mother’s erratic behavior. In some ways, Mike Taylor was very similar to Jack. They were both handsome, arrogant men with an eye for the ladies. She’d never given her father’s behavior much thought, just accepted it as normal because she’d never known anything else. As a child, she hadn’t seen much of him. He’d been overseas on active duty until she was sixteen and when he’d retired, it had been business trips and vacations with his lady friends that kept him away. She had no memories of her parents together and now she knew why.

  In one of her college psych classes, she’d read that children often repeat the mistakes of their parents, caught up in a pattern of learned behavior. Victims of abuse often passed along the penchant for violence by beating their own children or spouses. Was she destined to fall into the same trap as her mother by loving a man who could never be faithful?

  After awhile, she went straight to the bathroom for a shower as if she could wash away the pain. The water ran over her upturned face and the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders. Water always had a purifying effect on her, washing away the strife of life when nothing else could. The hot stream cleansed the taint of heartbreak and betrayal from her body. She watched it swirled down the floor drain, taking her strength with it, and leaned against the wall as the sobs began. Their intensity bewildered her. She’d never cried about Brian. Oh, there had been a sting of tears or an occasional blurring of the eyes, but never a flood like this one. In fact, she hadn’t cried like this since her mom left all those years ago. A low wail came from her throat as she let the pain rip through her. Her body shook until her knees gave way and she sank to her hands and knees on the floor of the shower.

 

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