by Marr, Maggie
“Okay.” Presley slides her gaze toward her office door. “You say serious, I say seriously uptight.”
I sigh. I adore Presley. She’s organized and smart and great at the hundred things I throw at her on any given day but she has…opinions. About everyone. That she freely shares. Which is pretty perfect for me because since my accident nuance and organization are two things I can’t seem to get a handle on.
“She’s here to help. She’s going to audit and assess and help us find ways to make the shop more profitable,” I say.
“We are profitable,” Presley says.
“But more.”
“We are more.” Presley lifts a stack of papers and holds them out to me. “I already emailed these to Madame Bossy Pants and she has a printed copy too.”
I look through the pages. “These numbers are….good.” I look at the profit margin for first quarter and second quarter. “Really good.”
Presley nods and smiles. “Increased marketing.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “You know you get weekly and monthly reports via email. Plus they’re always on the shared drive.”
“Right, I know but—”
“But you don’t look at them.”
“I look at them. Sometimes. Besides, that’s why I hired you.”
“Mmmhmm.” Presley turns back to her computer screen. “Uptight lady is in your office. She wants to have a meeting later to go over the spreadsheets. See you then.”
That’s my cue to exit. I enter my office and my gaze skims over my desk, which but for Presley’s constant attention would be merely stacks and stacks of correspondence and paper, because that’s exactly what was on my desk before Presley.
“Hey,” Emma says. She sits at the round conference table. “Is it okay that I work in here? Thought it might be easier since your store uses acronyms that we don’t use.”
“No problem.” I sit at my desk and pop open my laptop. There are post-it notes on the screen and a dozen more scattered about my office. Reminders. Little bits of paper that are reminders of not only what I’m meant to do, but also of what I lost.
“So I noticed your little trick,” Emma says. She stands and carries a page toward me.
“Trick?”
She smiles. “With the post-its. Seems you use them to stay organized.”
“Mmmhmm.” I’m not about to fill her in on how my memory has never returned to it’s full capacity. There are a million little tricks I use and all of them are part of the reason that I bailed on Emma. Not going there.
“So this, acronym, I was wondering what is BC4S. Seems to pop up at varying times. Kind of random. No real pattern.”
“Birthday cake for staff,” I say.
“What?”
“Birthday cake for staff. Just like C4S. That’s cake for staff. Like when someone leaves or has a baby or—”
“You guys eat a lot of cake.”
“We have a lot to celebrate.”
“But you’re having a cake nearly every week. Sometimes twice a week.” She squints and tilts her head. “I mean, doesn’t that seem a bit…”
“A bit what?”
“Excessive.”
My chest tightens with her words. How to explain to Emma that after dying and then going through six months of physical therapy and losing my future with her, having anything to celebrate can never be excessive.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
“Right bu—”
“Nope.”
She tilts her head and cocks her hip in that oh-so-Emma way that means she’s about to explain to me how absolutely wrong I am.
“I mean Jack come on, you also buy lunch for your staff and—”
Frustration tightens in my chest. I look up at my former fiancée and the woman I loved. “What happened to you Em? Do your remember when we started Bliss Boards? We would’ve been thrilled to be able to buy cake for our staff. Or lunch? Now we’ve got a company that makes more money than we can spend and you’re complaining about celebrating someone’s birthday? Or the fact that they’re having a baby? Or a graduation?”
“Okay, okay.” She holds up her hand and backs away from me. “You’re making me sound like a witch.” She tosses the pages onto the table beside her laptop.
I sigh. “I’m sorry.” I scrub my hand over my jaw. “No, no, no. It’s not that. And maybe it is excessive.” I meet her gaze and hurt lingers in her blue eyes. “I…I’m just happy to be able to celebrate, I guess. Happy to be alive, and when somebody on staff has a milestone, I want us to celebrate it because”—my chest tightens and a lump thickens in my throat—“because, I mean you never know when something bad could happen and then we wouldn’t get to celebrate anymore.”
“Oh Jack.” She presses her fingertips to her mouth. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I didn’t—”
“Don’t. It’s OK. It’s just, after the accident, I wanted to try and remember that every day counts, that there isn’t anything guaranteed that—”
I stop talking. The color has drained from Em’s face and her expression is frozen. “Em, what is it? What—”
She lifts her eyebrows and turns toward the windows. Waves roll in and out in the distance. She crosses both arms over her chest. “I…I just thought…” She shakes her head. “Your future is here now and…”
I stand and walk to Emma. She’s hurt and I understand why. I never apologized. I never explained to her why. I never let her in on the reasons I had to leave.
She turns to me, her beautiful face etched with sadness; her eyes filled with questions that I never answered.
“Emma, I had to leave. I couldn’t—”
She holds up a hand and backs away. “Jack it’s okay. I don’t need to hear your reasons. I’m here to do a job. An audit. You have your life and I have mine and I don’t need you feeling sorry for the girl you left behind.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“Okay.” She pulls a loose hair behind her ear and turns back to the table and the papers and her laptop. And it’s clear that whatever conversation I thought she needed to have isn’t happening and maybe she doesn’t need what I thought she needed.
“Hey, it’s three, you wanted to go through the first two quarters of last year?” Presley stands in the doorway to my office with her laptop. She glances from me to Emma. She looks like a kid who just discovered her parents arguing.
“Come on in, Presley,” Emma says. “It’s time to get started.” Emma glances toward me. “You ready?”
Presley glances at me and I nod. Tension rolls through the room bigger than waves in a hurricane. I shake my head and go to my desk. I can do this. I still love Emma, and most likely I always will, but when you love someone, sometimes you have to do what’s best for them, even if what’s best for them, means setting them free.
7
Emma
Not a date. Not a date. Not a date. Not a date, I mumble over and over again as I turn side to side in front of the giant mirror in the guest bathroom. I’ve tried on six outfits, changed shoes three times, touched up my make-up and….and…decided that no matter how I wear my mass of reddish-blond curls it’s a massive fail and I should just shave my head.
Not. A. Date.
What does one wear to an art opening? It’s not that I’m completely , it’s just…what is it? I work all the time and don’t go out much. I lean into the mirror. My lipstick is Sunset Red or some such name and there’s a smudge….I hardly ever put on a full face, but for this ‘not a date’ thing with Jack, I’ve spent more time getting my hair and make up ready than I did for a charity gala I was required to attend earlier this year in Sydney.
“And why is that?” I ask of my reflection. “Hmmm? Could it be that you still, still, even after all that happened have a horrible soft spot for one Mr. Jack Easton?”
“Do you have a soft spot for one Mr. Jack Easton?”
My stomach drops to my toes.
Oh. No.
I turn to my left, and yes, he’s standing the
re, looking sexier than any man is allowed to look, in jeans and shirt and without the wicked smile but instead a haunted-hopeful look.
“Brett gave me a key,” Jack says guiltily.
“Oh right, of course.” I slide my hands over the front of my skirt. Jack’s gaze follows my touch. “Well let’s get going then.” I smile and walk toward the bathroom door and Jack, hoping he’ll fall back and praying he’ll ignore what he just overheard and—
“You didn’t answer my question,” he whispers.
I’m right in front of him now. So near his breath caresses my cheek.
My nipples tighten. A tingle of desire quickens my sex. Jack’s hands are clasped in front of his muscular chest. His touch on my body, the stroke of those fingers across my flesh….
“I…” I look up and his lips are right there, right in front of me. The cleft in his chin. The scar just below his ear where he smashed into a reef. He smells of peppermint and soap and sun and sand and sea and everything that I’ve ever wanted and loved. “I…”
My heart hitches in my chest because I don’t know what to say or how to say it and then I don’t have to.
Jack’s lips are on mine. He slides his hand around my waist.
Heat ripples through me. The kiss is familiar and hot and filled with every sex dream I’ve had since Phuket.
Phuket.
I pull back from Jack’s kiss. His eyes hold a mix of pain and desire. There’s so much unsaid between us. We have to this time, but right now he’s got his hands on my waist and his hard cock pressed between us.
“Yeah. I’ve got a soft spot for you, Jack. I absolutely do,” I whisper.
He leans forward and his lips are on mine. Yes. God. Yes. I’ve wanted this moment for two years. He slides his hand down the back of my skirt and cups my ass. He pulls me closer to him. He presses his thick cock between us. His slides his tongue along the seam of my lips and I open my mouth to him.
Yessss.
Our tongues caress and tangle and his hand is on my breast. Cupping my flesh. I reach forward and pull at his belt and the button of his jeans. I unzip his pants and reach down.
His hard thick cock. I stroke down over the soft flesh.
“Oh, Em,” he moans around our kiss. He unbuttons and unzips my skirt and it falls to the floor. He reaches his hands up and pulls my shirt over my head. I do the same to him. He turns me toward the mirror. He’s behind me now. This brilliant wall of muscle and man. He unhooks my bra and the silken fabric slips from my body. Jack presses his hands to my breasts. He plucks at each of my nipples.
My sex tightens. I press my head back against his shoulder. His reflection in the mirror makes me wet. He dips his head and presses his lips to my neck. he plucks my nipples. Circling. Stroking. Teasing.
“Yes, yes.”
I reach around and clasp the back of his neck. I roll my hips forward and back; my ass pressing against the thick shaft of his sex. I’m wet for him. He slips his left hand from my breast and trails it down over my belly and through my curls. He parts the lips of my sex.
“Oh yes,” I moan. I watch his hand slide between the lips of my pussy. He strokes one finger over my clit. Pulsing and rubbing. I press my hips back, seeking, wanting his cock inside me.
Our gazes meet in the reflection. His finger more insistent and I grind my hips against his hard cock. My body dances on the edge of an orgasm. I catch his gaze. My knees give way with the pleasure. He tightens his arm around my waist.
“That’s it baby. Come for me. Please come for me.”
“Oh Jack,” I wail. He presses his fingers and strokes my clit. I tremble. My body tightens and I ride the thread of pleasure spiraling through me. I release forward into a heap of sexually spent pleasure. Jack spins me around and presses his lips to mine. He pulls back and presses his hands to my cheeks.
“I love you,” he says. Intensity lights his eyes.
My heart beats against my ribs.
“I will always love you,” he says.
His lips are on my lips and he lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the bathroom and away from the mirror and across my room to the giant bed. He sets me down and steps back. His cock is hard. He stands beside me and all I want is for him to take me.
Beneath his gaze I roll and buck my hips. He’s above me and his lips press to my lips. I grasp his cock and stroke the smooth flesh. I slide my fingertips through the pre-come. I want him inside me. I want the fullness and the heat of him. He pulls his mouth from mine and he dips his lips to my breast. He pulls my nipple into his mouth.
Heat shoots through my body.
Yes.
I press my hips up. He presses the tip of his cock into the entrance of my sex. I tense for him, wanting to take all of him.
“Look at me, Em,” he says.
I lock my gaze onto his.
He slides his cock deep into my body and my body stretches to take him. He pulls back and then slides forward. I press my hands to his perfect ass and grip him, wanting him to press harder and faster into my body.
“Oh Em,” he says. He presses in and out of me with intensity. His face is concentration and desire. I lift my legs and wrap them around him.
“Yes, babe, I’m going to come.”
He slaps his body against mine. We’re on the edge, clinging to the pleasure. He slams his cock in and out of me. I clench my sex around him. We lock our gazes as we go over the edge together.
* * *
“That’s some soft spot,” Jack says. He presses his lips against my nose.
“Stop,” I say and smile.
Heat curls up my neck and into my cheeks.
“You’re adorable when you blush. He traces my cheek with his fingertips. “You’re always adorable.” His voice is soft. A gentleness without kidding.
These moments were always my moments with Jack. A softness. A kindness. Yes, the world always got jovial fun-loving Jack, but I also got soft, kind, serious Jack, too. This. These moments, were what we had together and I miss them.
My chest tightens.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He presses his fingers to my chin and tilts my head up. I meet his gaze.
“I…I never got to say goodbye. I never got to know…to know why?” Tears drip down my cheeks. Pain careens around my chest. I press my fingers across my cheeks wiping away tears. Deep breath. This isn’t exactly how I wanted to wake up after having sex with Jack. I roll away from him, to get out of bed.
“Hey, Em?” He presses his hand to my hip and pulls me back to face him. “I’m sorry. I…I can make all kinds of excuses and give you all kinds of reasons, but first of all, I’m sorry.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. I needed those words. I…I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear those words from Jack.
“Me leaving wasn’t because of anything you did or didn’t do. Me leaving had everything to do with me. I was afraid that I couldn’t be the guy you needed me to be.”
I narrow my eyebrows. “I…I don’t understand. We had a plan. You were getting better. You were back to where you were before the accident. Look, I know that you weren’t going to ride big waves anymore but—”
Jack shakes his head. He drops his gaze and then looks at me again. “It wasn’t about the waves. It was about life. What you wanted and what I wanted. When I woke up in that hospital, the next six months were all about getting well. And then after that, it was all about us. And…I liked it being all about us, but Em, something shifted in me. I…I didn’t need what you needed…I…wanted life to be quieter and—”
“What do you mean by quieter?”
“I mean, I didn’t want to build an empire, I wanted to build one store.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water to my face. “So you’re saying that my ambition drove you to abandon me in Phuket? Is that what you’re saying? That you didn’t like that I wanted to build Bliss Boards into a profitable and successful business, that—”
“No, no, no.” Jack says an
d shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
I press my hand to his chest and yank the sheet around me. “I think it’s time for you to go. This little walk down memory lane has satisfied my nostalgia and I think this’ll be quite enough.”
“You’re not hearing what I’m saying to you.”
“Excuse me? I’m not hearing what you’re saying? How about you try listening Jack, instead? Hmm? I’m the one crying and spilling my guts and telling you how upset I was. How abandoned I felt. How alone. After I dedicate my life to getting you well, you up and leave with no explanation. And now we’re back to you talking about you and how that made you feel? No thank you.” I yank the sheet around me and walk to the bathroom. “You can show yourself out.”
I walk into the bathroom. Sit on the closed toilet. Look into the mirror and start to cry.
8
Emma
“Wait, so you did sleep with him?” Torrey asks.
I press my phone to my cheek and look out at the ocean. “Yeah, I did.” I walk across the backyard to the palm tree that sits on the edge of their property. Wooden steps lead down the hill and to the ocean.
“Oh my,” Torrey says. “How was it?”
My chest tightens and so does my sex. The fresh memory of Jack’s hands on my body warm all of me.
“As good as I remembered.”
“Well then.” Torrey takes a deep breath. “Still love him?”
I sigh. “Afraid so.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.”
I laugh. “It does. It really does. He said that it was because of my ambition that he had to leave me in Phuket,” I’m indignant and I’m pissed.
“They’re amazing aren’t they? They say they love ambitious women until they actually have to deal with our ambitions. Think your brother is rueing the day. I’ve got him at the park right now with a double baby stroller.”
I smile. “That’s good for him, and it’s exactly what he wanted. You’re exactly what he wanted.”
