by Ward, Susan
Chrissie. Always Chrissie. I hate the petty thoughts and emotions, but I can’t keep them away. That damn troubled little girl is ruining my life. A paltry complaint, but I have it anyway.
I sniffle to hold back my tears. “When do I become a priority for you, Jack?”
“Priority?”
He repeats it in a way that shames me. It was unkind and petty and I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m having a crisis here myself. The mercurial Alan Manzone is turning my life into a nightmare, and a part of me—a part I don’t acknowledge—is afraid to stay here, near him, without frequent intervals of Jack to keep me from doing something else stupid again. Even despising him, the allure of Alan Manzone is difficult to shut down. That Jack isn’t coming in October terrifies me.
“You’ve always been my priority, Linda.” He sounds sad, and I wish I could take back the words but I can’t. Before I can apologize, he says, “You have always been my priority, but you are the one who went away and made this difficult situation harder for the both of us. I’m doing the best I can here.”
He is. I know he is. Jack never does anything less than his best for everyone.
I say it anyway. “Your best isn’t good enough for me right now. I need you here. Don’t make me ask again.”
There’s another long pause through the phone and he’s breathing in that way that tells me he’s fighting to hold tight rein over his emotions.
“I can’t,” he says simply. “And don’t ask me again, because it hurts too damn much to have to say no to you, sweetheart.”
I can’t hold back the tears any longer. I click down the phone.
~~~
The hours of the night pass miserably for me. I climb from the bed at dawn, and I know what I have to do. This separation from Jack is making me crazy. It’s hurting us both and if I stay here we don’t have a shot of ever making it.
I quickly dress and then pack. I write two fast notes, one to the Graysons for their hospitality and a goodbye to Jeanette. I don’t want to be her friend anymore. I don’t want to stick around to witness what the train wreck Alan Manzone does to her life.
I lug my suitcase into the hallway and stop outside Jeanette’s room. I knock. No answer, though I’m not surprised because I didn’t hear her return last night.
I go downstairs and lay the note for the Graysons on the round mahogany table in the entry. I grab the phone. I call Harris Productions and tell the receptionist I quit. I hang up as she anxiously demands an explanation. Then I ring for a taxi.
Twenty minutes later, I’m heading to Heathrow and hopefully an empty seat on a plane that can take me back to the US, California and Jack.
Twenty hours later, after hopping planes and long hours in airports waiting, I’m on the final flight circling above Santa Barbara. When the cabin doors open I rush toward the steps, luxuriating in the feel of the warm sun and the scent of ocean air.
I wait in the baggage claim area until the cart is pulled in and I grab my bag, debating if I should call Jack or just take a cab there. I go to the short line of vehicles, toss my bag inside and climb into a taxi.
“Hope Ranch,” I say. “Marina Drive. I’ll point out the house when we’re there.”
I shake my head. It didn’t occur to me until the cabbie asked for my destination that I don’t even know the complete address for the Hope Ranch house.
After paying the driver, I carry my bag up the walkway to the stoop. Now that I’m here a measure of my sureness coming here starts to wane.
Anxiously I wait for the door to be opened. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. Maybe he doesn’t want me here. It was definitely presumptuous to hop a plane to Santa Barbara without discussing it with Jack first. I’m not even certain he’s here.
Jeez, what’s the matter with me? Only an insane girl repeatedly fights with the world’s most wonderful man. Cringing, I recall his voice when he told me it was too hard to say no to me, before I hung up on him.
My nerves grown tauter with each passing second. Why isn’t someone answering the door?
The door swings wide and I snap up my face. Blue eyes lock with mine, and I nervously search for something in Jack’s expression to tell me what he’s thinking about finding me on his doormat unannounced.
I wait awkwardly and he doesn’t say anything. Why the hell doesn’t he say something?
“Are you going to invite me in, or do I need to find a hotel?” I say hurriedly, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t talk. He just stares at me. “Why don’t you say something? Please, Jack. Say something so I know my being here is all right.”
The lines of his face change and my ragged emotions calm. I know that look in his eyes.
He closes the distance between us in two strides. “Not another word, Linda. Don’t ruin this for me. Just let me enjoy being happy.”
In a flash, I’m in his arms, and we are laughing, kissing, and touching in a sloppy and random way. He doesn’t collect my bag. He doesn’t release me. We are both silent as he takes me to the bedroom.
Ten
I sit on a chaise lounge near the edge of the cliffs, staring down at the beach.
I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the bright midmorning sun and try to focus on the figure in the distant sand that is Jack. He’s found himself a kid with a board.
They are crouched down, chatting across the fiberglass, and I can almost hear in my head Jack’s voice rattling on in that folksy way he has that is so endearing. He can talk to anyone about anything, and he could be there talking for hours.
I laugh, lean back in the chair, and reach for my ice tea. It’s been a wild ride, deliciously so, since I got here. But there are decisions I’ve got to make, and both sides of the argument are fiercely waging battle within me.
Do I stay here with Jack and start our life now? Or do I go back and finish what I started in the UK?
I shake my head. Part of me is desperate to stay and a part of me screams go. The problems are all still here with us—the court case, Chrissie, my haphazard existence—even in the wonderful that is us, and I shouldn’t let my heart trick me into forgetting that. Nor should I let my fear that maybe we’re tempting fate, that we’ve run out of chances, permit me to put myself on the top of Jack’s priority list where Chrissie should be.
Oh, and there is that other part of me, the part unsure exactly why I ran to Santa Barbara and Jack. Is it because it’s what I want? Emotional clarity and love winning out over all the rational reasons I forced us to delay starting our life together. Or did I give up everything I’ve worked for, my career and graduate school, out of fear of Alan Manzone?
Am I really running from him?
I don’t know the answer and that completely unnerves me, and I don’t even want to try to unravel what that might mean. I’m in love with Jack. Alan is nothing more than a complication—a relentless and dangerous complication—but just a minor tricky bump in the road caused by separation from Jack and…
I dropkick my thoughts away before they can form. Don’t think about the “and”, Linda. You love Jack. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a woman. Attraction to other men will always happen. It’s carnal. There is no way to turn it off completely. It means nothing...
Crap, even in my head that sounds like a shitty rationalization for the things I did with Alan and what I nearly let happen. Thank God I didn’t go to bed with him. It’s bad enough sort of lying to Jack about Alan Manzone. I could never lie to Jack about cheating on him.
A sound makes me look and I see Jack trotting up those treacherous stairs built into the cliffs.
As he crosses the lawn, I make a face at him. “You and your quick walk. You’ve been gone half the morning.”
Jack laughs and leans over to drop a kiss on my lips. “Sorry. It’s a beautiful day. You should have come with me.”
I roll my eyes. “And ruin your fun? Have you always just been able to talk to anyone about anything and have them listen to you?”
/> He sinks down on the chaise behind me and gives me a playful shake. “No. I can’t get you to listen to me most of the time.”
“Bullshit. I listen to every word you say.”
“OK. Rephrase. I can’t get you to do what I think you should do, but you listen.”
I stare at the ocean a moment, fighting to keep from my expression the effect of the subtle undertone of his words. Once I’m sure it’s contained, I scooch around to face him and arch a brow. “Aha. You got me to do what you wanted last night.”
A smile teases the edge of his lips. “Weren’t we wonderful last night?”
The look in his eyes and the huskiness of his voice makes my heart soar. I lean in to kiss him on his neck.
“We were better than wonderful. We were perfect,” I whisper, touching my way with my lips to the underside of his jaw, and then I pull back.
He caresses my cheek with a fingertip. “Perfect, huh? Then why are you sitting here thinking about leaving me again?”
My eyes widen and my heart stills and his expression is nearly more than I can take. Shit, how did he know that was what I’ve been sitting up here thinking about?
I turn to face the ocean again, settling back against his chest, and without pause he folds me in his arms. His lips move in my hair.
“Linda. Linda. Linda. What am I going to do with you?”
I tilt into the movement of his kisses. “Just love me, Jack.”
“I do, baby. You know that. Whatever you’re thinking, tell me and let us talk it through together. I can’t love you the way I want to love you unless you let me.”
Tears sting in my eyes. Just tell him, huh?
I take in a steadying breath. “I’m not thinking about leaving, Jack. I’m thinking about staying. Quitting my job, not going back to the UK, and”—Crap, why is this making him rigid and still? The wisecrack comes even though I don’t want it. A defense mechanism—“hanging around here. I think I’m ready to have a stay-at-home beach bum in my life.”
There is a long moment of silence and my stomach does an anxious shimmy. Then his arms tighten in their warm, protective hold. “Why now, Linda?”
Not the response I expected. And what is that I hear in his voice? The tears give way and I sniff a few times before I answer him. “Because I love you. I hate not being with you. And my way, Jack, isn’t working at all. Not for either of us, I think.”
I peek at him over my shoulder. The tenderness in his eyes banishes all worry from me. “It definitely is not working for me,” he murmurs.
“Oh, Jack.” In a moment I am spun around on the chair, my face in his hands, and he is kissing me exuberantly everywhere.
I start to laugh. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t want to spend a day ever again without you.”
“Me either, sweetheart,” he whispers against my lips.
My mouth opens beneath his and I can feel us both changing what this is, the desire rocketing through our flesh. As I’m slowly lowered to lie beneath him on the cushion, how right this feels shreds all doubt over my decisions. Whatever problems exist couldn’t possibly win against how we are, like this.
My fingers are in his hair. Our mouths are hungrily consuming each other, and I am pushing up into him as he strains into me, and it doesn’t feel as if I can get close enough to him.
His passionate assault abruptly halts and he pulls back enough so he can look into my face. My eyes fly wide.
“Are you saying you’re staying, or are you finally agreeing to marry me?” he asks.
Jack… No man has ever looked at me this way and my heart jumps. Everything inside me melts in fast, delicious waves. How could he even wonder if my staying means I’m saying yes? In all moments he is wonderfully him.
I hold his face with my hands. “Take me to bed and I’ll give you my answer afterward.”
~~~
“Slowly, Linda. Slowly. We have all night.”
I feel his body ease out of me and then glide back in, deliciously slow, as deep as he can get. He halts and my breath catches. His mouth comes to mine and my tongue slips through his parted lips to be answered by a swirl. His feather-light fingers trace my sides, brush my face, and tease my breasts. He is in me and all around me. He moves again, a perfect rhythm of fast and slow, and the kiss deepens.
All parts of him making love to me, all of him always at once. Tender and passionate. Bold and gentle. Man and boy, his heart and body urging me onward wherever he takes me, giving me the courage to get lost in him and take what I want.
He moves our bodies with loving sureness, his warm flesh against my smooth skin, my yielding flesh to his hardened sex. Another slow move out and then just the tip of him held in me.
Sensation rockets through my body. I arch up, no longer able to endure his leisurely play with my body. I move into his cock, taking him hard into me. Heated currents surge through my veins, the tingling running along my flesh for too long, him keeping me on the edge without letting me cross over, the edge that is now closer and necessary.
I do it again, harder, taking his body into me, grabbing his face and bringing his mouth back to mine. I fuck him with my tongue and then trap his in my lips, sucking until I feel him tightening there. I soften my mouth and deepen the kiss and lift my pelvis into him.
I want him to come now. I want him to come at the same time as me. I intensify my fucking him with my mouth and cunt. My body is consuming him. Harder. Faster. More passionately. I am dripping there, the surface of me is burning, and he is moving within me my way.
I wrap my legs and arms around him. I sink my nails into his back. Everything tightens in his body. We both begin to shake. Another sharp thrust and he is pouring himself into me as my release melts around him. He collapses on top of me, his face against my neck.
We are both breathing heavily, trying to steady ourselves.
“Slowly, Jack, slow,” I whisper into his hair. “We have forever. I’ll marry you.”
A throaty laugh shudders from deep inside him. Those brilliant blue eyes look at me. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. The expression in his eyes says everything.
We are both utterly spent, and immediately pass out into sleep.
~~~
I wake in a room that smells of sex and Jack and I don’t ever want to climb from the bed. My body is still claimed by the languidness of a night of fucking, and everything in me is possessed by sweet peacefulness.
It is a glorious feeling to have my life finally decided, to love Jack, and to let him love me. No more uncertainty, worry, or delay. To say yes, to have him want me to, and to know it is right for the both of us.
No man has ever made love to me the way Jack did the second time, after I said yes. And no man ever will make love to me again. A glorious thought to match this glorious feeling.
Smiling, I roll onto my side. My eyes go wide. I’m alone. I sit up.
The bedroom door opens and Jack crosses the room. He’s dressed. Why is he dressed?
I make a face. “Where do you think you’re going? I have plans for you today.”
“Not where I want to. Not back to bed.” He laughs and drops a kiss on my nose. “Nice tone, by the way. Very bossy. Very official.” He grins and my heart takes off beating fiercely. “I’m very ready to be both married and managed by you.”
I flush. “Managed, huh? You make me sound awful. I don’t try to manage you, not ever.”
He gives me a look that makes my cheeks darken.
“You are most definitely an in-control kind of lady. I find it so sexy when you take control.”
I sink my teeth into my lower lip because the way he’s looking at me makes me very alert there and most definitely wanting to have my way with him this morning.
I do a quick study of him as he sinks down beside me. Back to bed is not an option today. He has that something wrong with Chrissie expression about him.
I lay my hand over his. “Are you going to expl
ain why you look unhappy? Why are you dressed and where are you going?”
“I got a call from the attorneys while you were sleeping. Walter wants to sit down, discuss the psychologist’s report and possibly reach an informal agreement.”
I stare, astonished. “But that’s good news. An informal agreement would end the court case, right?” I frown. “Why do you look so grim?”
He exhales heavily. “Oh, Linda. You don’t know Walter. If he wants to talk it means he believes he’s in a strong position.”
I arch a brow. “That’s not possible. There can’t be anything in that report to help him.”
His eyes lock on mine. “You haven’t seen it, sweetheart. And neither have I. My attorneys only got it this morning. They are still dissecting it. They want to meet with me before we meet with Walter, and something in how they made the request has got me pretty on edge. They want to discuss the evaluation with me and I am not looking forward to knowing what it says.”
I use both hands to cover his. “I don’t need to see the report. I know you. I know there is nothing in it that could possibly harm you or cost you Chrissie.”
Jack laughs, softly and not with humor. “I hope you’re right. But I don’t think this is going to play that way. Lawyers generally have two voices. Good news. Bad news. Today it was the bad news voice.”
I roll my eyes and make a face at him. “Such a pessimist. When did that happen? I am right about everything. Why don’t you just listen to me and stop worrying? Jeez, Jack, for the most positive person I know you are behaving more like me. Cynical.”
He brushes the edge of my mouth with his thumb and this time when he looks at me there is the slightest hint of a smile in his eyes.
“I’m just ready to have the pieces of my life come together, Linda. To start our life. I never thought I would love anyone again the way I love you.”
How he says that, the look in his eyes, makes my heart flip and then rapidly beat.
I lay my palm on his cheek. “I never thought I would love, before I met you.”
