Daniel rolled his eyes. “Right.”
“He has disk issues in his back.” Demi accepted her beer from Jack with a smile. “A really talented Ironman triathlete. Very hard for him to have to give it up.”
Jack was surprised to notice Demi blushing faintly. So the ultracool woman had feelings after all. He’d suspected as much. Still waters ran deep. He’d often been surprised how many women like her turned out to be wild animals in bed.
Like Melissa. Their lovemaking over the past couple of weeks had become more and more exciting as they became familiar with each other’s bodies and preferences and needs. She constantly surprised him with how real she was. In bed together they communicated at a totally honest level. When a sexual idea worked, they went for it; he never got the feeling her noises and movements were put on for his benefit, but was sure they came from a deep and natural place. When something didn’t work, there was no embarrassment, no awkward apology, just laughter and joking and on to the next. Sometimes in the middle of lovemaking they’d talk about whatever was on their minds, until one of them changed positions and they’d be lost to the process again.
“Well, you’ll be seeing Mr. Colin again, then,” Seth said. “Disk injuries are tricky.”
Demi nodded. “They can be.”
“No kidding.” Daniel said. “I was—”
“I’m hoping I can help him,” Demi blurted out.
“I’m sure you can.” Angela smiled supportively. “So what do—”
“He’ll probably have to be in therapy for a long, long time.” Demi sighed, eyes downcast. “Weeks if not months.”
“That is so terrible.” Angela, tenderhearted as usual. The rest of them were exchanging o-kay-Demi glances.
“Terrible? Really? You think so?” Demi drank her beer, but her eyes were dancing and a dimple appeared in her right cheek.
Angela nearly spat out her beer, then Demi’s joke hit the rest of them and the laughter spread. Even Bonnie smiled. Jack was glad Demi was relaxing with them. She should come by more often.
His cell buzzed in his pocket; he dug it out to look at the display, annoyed that he was hoping it was Melissa. He got plenty of calls all day long, clients and friends.
It wasn’t Melissa. It was Tammy.
Oh, man.
Tammy was a management consultant he’d met at a downtown bar one night a few years back—how many now? Three? Four? Jack didn’t remember. Whenever she was going to be in town—several times a year—she’d call him and they’d hook up, whether either of them was dating other people or not. She was the closest thing he’d ever had to a long-term relationship. And yet for both of them it was out of sight, out of mind until they got together the next time. In her early- or mid-thirties—he knew better than to ask—Tammy was beautiful, smart, funny and uninhibited. Beyond that, he didn’t much care about anything else, just enjoyed her a hell of a lot.
And hadn’t even thought about her in weeks. No, months. Not since he’d first seen Melissa in the park.
The phone kept ringing. Jack should answer. He always answered. He and Tammy had an understanding.
He strode out of the apartment and down the hall. By the time he got back to his apartment at the other, the voice-mail notifier had appeared. He should call back right away and make plans with her.
Instead he dialed into his voice mail.
“Hey, hey, Mr. Shea.” Tammy’s familiar sexy voice filled his ears, bringing with it a mental picture of her: tall, slender, well muscled, frosted blond hair, expert makeup and stylish clothes, ultraconfident. “I’ll be in town next week Tuesday for three nights and I am having a serious Jack-attack. I’m not traveling as much these days and it’s been way too many months. Where shall we meet?”
He had nothing on his schedule any of the three nights she’d be in town. She knew better than to bother asking if he was busy. For her, he never was.
Jack closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall.
This was bad.
This was really bad.
Even with nothing on his calendar, Jack no longer felt free.
Blood Pressure: Normal
“SO THEN HE HAD ME pose as Venus, goddess of beauty, on this hilarious plastic clamshell like the Botticelli painting.” Melissa placed a small handful of silver and white Jordan almonds onto a square of white netting. She and Gretchen were putting together party favors for guests. The wedding day was coming together beautifully now that Melissa was no longer trying to have it all her way—and she still cringed when she thought of what she’d nearly done to her sister, though Gretchen had been totally wonderful when she’d apologized. “Only instead of covering myself up, I was holding a mirror, as if I was saying, ‘Don’t look at me to see beauty, look at yourself.’ Isn’t that cool?”
“Yes, wow, that is a really clever idea.” Gretchen glanced up from tying a silver ribbon around her package of almonds, beaming her approval. “Sounds like you’ve been having so-o-o much fun with this guy.”
“I have.” Melissa giggled like a complete moron. She hadn’t stopped smiling for the past couple of weeks, ever since the shoot with Jack in Seward Park. Why should she stop now? “It’s been really great. He’s really great. The photography is really great. The hanging-out time together is really great. The sex is really great.”
“So if you could think of one phrase to sum up what it’s like with Jack...I don’t know, maybe you’d pick really great?” Gretchen snorted.
“Nah. I’d say average.”
“Uh-huh.” Gretchen rolled her eyes. “I knew you liked this guy. You’ve been different since you met him.”
Melissa heard herself sigh blissfully. She was really nauseating these days. “I feel different.”
“Tell me how.” Gretchen put a finished favor into the box holding the others. “I’m curious whether it’s the same as what I’ve noticed.”
Melissa stopped to think. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that posing for Jack had changed her life. She was seeing herself the way he saw her, discovering to her surprise that she was a highly sensual and sexual person after all, and that she had creativity in her soul she’d never dreamed was there. Throughout school and for the past three years she’d been absorbing facts and skills other people handed out, neglecting to look inside herself for what Melissa might be about. The more she blossomed, the more her self-confidence rose, and, ironically, the more tolerant she grew of others.
She was even allowing herself to wonder if Barbara was less of a good influence than she’d thought. Growth, personal enrichment, all those were important, sure, but how about happiness? Waking up next to someone—or alone—feeling luxurious and relaxed, not worrying that every second of downtime was a curse. Getting the chance to laugh to tears with someone every other day. Enjoying lazy hours outside, strolls along the water. In her prescription for the right way to live, Barbara must have forgotten happiness, forgotten that a man could bring that as well as pain to a woman. Jack made Melissa happier than anything she’d been able to accomplish on her own. Was that weakness? Or was it simply part of being human?
“I’m more relaxed for sure, and my blood pressure shows it. But also... I don’t know. Things don’t bother me as much. I feel more on top of my life. Less like everything I do must be so important to developing who I am. More as if I’ve discovered I existed on some deeper level I wasn’t aware of.” She laughed self-consciously. “I’m sounding like an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. You sounded like an idiot when you were spouting Barbara-speak. These are your words and they make total sense to me. Falling for the right person brings us in touch with the best parts of ourselves.” Her sister’s face went soft and dreamy. She was clearly thinking of Ted. “And having that support in your life does make it seem as if fewer burdens are sitting on your shoulders alone.”
“Yes.” Melissa’s heart swelled with emotion. “That’s it, exactly.”
Gretchen shrugged. “Though to be honest, Ted and I have been together
so long I hardly remember what it was like not to be with him. I mostly remember being sad.”
“We grew up in a sad house.” Melissa shook a square of netting to free it from its clinging cousins. She found herself grieving her mother harder and more often these days than she had in years, making her suspect that she’d cheated herself out of some of the process as a child by diving in to take her mom’s place.
“Speaking of sad, I called Dad the other day.” Melissa cut several more lengths of ribbon. “I told him it was time to get off his butt and start dating again.”
“Melissa!” Gretchen froze with her hand in the tin of almonds. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Sure. Why not?” Melissa grinned. “Okay, okay, I didn’t use those actual words. I told him I was worried about him and made him promise to get a physical and mention his depression. And then I sent him an email with the link to a seniors’ dating website.”
“Oh, dear God.” Gretchen’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “What did he say?”
“Believe it or not, he said he’d been thinking about it for a while.”
“Wow.” Gretchen put her hands in her lap, apparently stunned. “Wow. Good for you, Melissa, that was really brave.”
“I don’t know about that.” It would have been much braver to have done that a long time ago, instead of sitting in judgment on his lifestyle. “Overdue I’d say.”
“Do you think he can be happy again after what he and Mom shared the first time around?”
“Uh.” Melissa gave her a look. “Happier than staying home watching TV every night?”
“I meant in the relationship.”
“I know. I was trying to say that isn’t really the point. The point is he should be happier than he is now.”
Gretchen was beaming. “And your prescription for happiness suddenly includes a romance.”
“I’m just saying...” Melissa piled up more silver and white almonds. “I don’t think there’s only one person for each of us. But I do think some matches are better than others. Like Dad’s and Mom’s and yours and Ted’s. Still, there has to be someone out there who could make Dad’s life better and vice versa.”
“You think Jack could be a really good forever match for you?”
The question startled Melissa so much she couldn’t even come up with a flip response. She managed a shrug, then horrified herself by having to swallow hard and blink harder.
“Oooh, Melissa!” Gretchen had stopped all pretense of making favors.
“Don’t say it.” Melissa held up her hand. “Not one damn word. We are going to talk about your wedding.”
“No, let’s talk about yours.”
“Not going to be one.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Jack is not the settle-down kind.” Her voice broke.
“Pthhpt.” Gretchen effectively dismissed that comment. “Three weeks ago you weren’t, either. If he’s right for you, he’ll become the settle-down kind. You might have to be patient, but it will happen, you watch. And if you even think of—”
“When are you picking up the cake from Angela?” Melissa asked pointedly.
“Okay, okay.” Gretchen sighed her disappointment. “End of the week. I’ll decorate it over the weekend. Bonnie’s giving me flowers for the cake then, too. I’ll get the bouquet and table decorations the day before the ceremony. I also have the disposable cameras for friends to use at the reception.”
“I’m glad you’re having Jack do the formal portraits.” She batted her eyes ridiculously. “Because it frees him up to be my date after the ceremony.”
“Well, you know, sister dear, weddings are great places to cement relationships...”
“Don’t start with me.” Melissa sent her sister a warning glare, stomach-butterflies fluttering away.
“Hey.” Gretchen reached across the table to squeeze Melissa’s arm. “You know what’s also different? It’s not like you’re trying to be my mom anymore. It’s like you’re really my sister now.”
There was no way Melissa could hold back tears after that one. “Gretchen, what are you trying to do to me?”
“Ha! Look at you.” She squeezed harder. “Leaky waterworks are the final proof. Melissa, girl, you are in love. If you blow it with this guy, I will never forgive you. And if he screws it up, give me his address, because I’ll personally—”
“Hey, you girls need help?” To Melissa’s relief, Ted walked in from the other room and kissed Gretchen as if he hadn’t seen her in three months when their separation had probably been all of an hour. Usually Melissa wanted to gag when she saw them together like that. Usually she started thinking unkind thoughts about codependency.
Now, what she felt wasn’t nausea, it was wistfulness for that kind of commitment and mutual adoration.
Gretchen was right. A month ago the idea of being coupled with the same person for the rest of her life had practically given her an allergic reaction. Jack had her envisioning a different kind of partnership, not the breathe-in-sync variety that Mom and Dad had had and that Gretchen and Ted had. That would drive Melissa nuts. She wanted a different type. A deep bond between two strong, independent individuals passionate about living life to its fullest, who challenged each other, disagreed vehemently about some things, came together as a powerhouse on others and spent as much time together naked as possible.
That kind of relationship.
Which, totally coincidentally, Melissa could envision herself having with Jack.
12
“I LOVE HOW THIS ONE came out.”
Jack nodded and nudged Melissa’s shoulder next to his on his couch. He was particularly pleased with the way the print had worked, too, the one of Melissa on the clamshell as Venus. On the “mirror” she held outward, he’d merged in a face, indistinct, androgynous, Anyman or Anywoman. Melissa’s hair blew in sexy disarray around her face, and her blue eyes shot out of her fine-boned features with particular intensity, lips curved in a sensual smile, broadcasting a welcome, urging the viewer to consider his or her own reflection as the embodiment of beauty.
This picture had been his idea, but Melissa had imbued it with such life and emotion—beyond what he would have known to demand. The way she internalized his concepts then communicated them back out to his lens...she was remarkable. The most intelligent, versatile and talented model he’d ever worked with.
Not that he was biased.
“I’m pleased with that one.” Pleased, hell, he was strutting like a rooster over it and all the other shots they’d done together. The initial discomfort, the feeling that he was stretching himself into something that didn’t quite fit yet had passed almost entirely. These images weren’t the final versions, they were the raw materials for what he’d hoped to convey: female power, pride, independence co-existing with sexuality that didn’t need to be hidden or shamed. Jack was content, an emotion he rarely felt when it came to his work, and he was confident Pierre Balzac would be, too.
He and Melissa were sharing the album and a bottle of wine after another photography session, their last. When they finished, he’d find something for them to eat in the kitchen or they’d go out to dinner. They’d come back and make love again, maybe spend the night together.
It was starting to feel natural to spend so much time together. Jack had never shared more than a night or two a week with whomever he was seeing, maybe more at the beginning when passion burned brightest. Making sure he kept plenty of time for himself and his other friends and passions kept him from ever feeling he was being swallowed up by any one woman.
Right now he was being swallowed up by this one. Half of him wanted to crawl deep into Melissa and merge them completely. The other half wanted to run screaming and not look back.
Since he was pretty sure he couldn’t split himself down the middle, Jack was left in a painful, tug-of-war stalemate that was making him irritable and anxious. Which was probably making Melissa anxious, though she was trying hard not to show it.
S
omething had to give.
“More wine?” His voice came out harshly; Melissa turned questioningly from one of the Eve photos he’d taken their second day in the studio, then smiled and kissed his cheek.
“Sure.” She held out her glass. Jack poured carefully, then more for himself. He was drinking the stuff too quickly. “It’s good, this Malbec. I like it.”
“Same.” He clinked glasses with her, holding her gaze, indulging the push-pull emotion that was starting to be familiar. Pull her close. Push her away.
She settled back against him, nestled under his arm where she fitted so perfectly. Their bodies seemed made for each other—rarely did they have to adjust sleeping positions. Was that significant? Hardly. But it was one more of what were starting to feel like signs pointing ahead in a smooth dark tunnel to forever, when he wanted to be sure there was an exit at every step.
“So what are we going to do together now that the shoots are over? It’s going to feel weird being naked around you only for sex.”
“Yeah.” He drank, then drank again. The shoots were over. Goodbye sexy model and virile photographer having a torrid affair. Hello Jack and Melissa, boyfriend and girlfriend. The former sounded so hot and exciting. The latter...he could not feel enthusiastic.
“I think we’ll be able to handle it.” She put her wine on his coffee table, then placed his beside it. His and Hers glasses. “Don’t you?”
He didn’t know. But he did know he had no problem with Melissa moving to sit across his lap, no problem putting his arms around her beautiful body, holding it close, kissing her, feeling his penis stirring just from the way she used her mouth against his.
This woman had drawn him physically from the first moment he saw her. That hadn’t changed. But Tammy’s call the night before had clearly brought to his attention the fact that everything else about his life was changing, and he didn’t want it to. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Change meant pain, risk, danger—and what was a bigger change than losing your heart to someone? Maybe having a kid, but, ha, that was so far off his radar, it wasn’t worth including.
Light Me Up Page 15
