He blinked a few times, very rapidly, and then took a step toward me. I held my breath, knowing that I would kiss him if he made a move. Or maybe I would make the move.
But then the doors opened in front of us, the moment broken. He smiled at me, shaking his head, as if to say he couldn’t believe our luck. But I just grinned and took his hand, pulling him out into the crowd.
After all, we had all night.
***
The second surprise was to be found at the Lincoln Center. “Are we seeing a show?” I asked when Bill pulled up at the curb.
“We are.”
I moved to get out of the car, and Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman. How about you help me with that?”
Then he was up and out of the car, coming around to my side to open the door. I took his hand, letting him help me out. “Thank you, sir.”
He wrapped an arm around me, doing that whole spare hand in the pocket thing that I found so sexy, and led me up to the steps. The courtyard was lit up and filled with people in formal wear, milling around and making their way inside.
“Can we stop at the fountain?” I asked hopefully.
“Who do you think I am? I never pass by a good fountain.”
I giggled, and we walked over to the shooting water. “It’s so beautiful,” I murmured, watching the way the light lit the various streams.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, right in my ear. I shivered at the sound, at the nearness of him. And then made the mistake of looking up at him. He was right next to me, only inches away, his eyes on my lips.
I knew, in that moment, that we had crossed a line of some kind. Whatever walls we had erected to keep our mutual attraction at bay were about to come tumbling down. I didn’t think there was any point in fighting it anymore. The idea of being a professional, the idea of finding satisfaction in mere friendship, seemed impossible now.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, my voice a whisper. He nodded, though he didn’t look like he wanted to move, and began to lead me to the entrance.
It wasn’t until we were inside and being handed our programs that I found out what we were going to see. “The ballet?”
He nodded, his eyes searching my face. This couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? He remembered what I had said that night when he asked me what I wanted to experience, just for me. The ballet, I had told him.
“Not just any ballet, either,” Jackson was saying. “The London Ballet, which, obviously, is far superior to anything you have here in the—”
I stood up on my tiptoes, the heels helping me gain height, and pressed my lips against his. Immediately, my body demanded that I deepen the kiss, that I wrap my arms around him, but I pulled away almost as soon as I had started. I knew that if I continued, if I deepened the kiss even slightly, we were not going to make it to our seats. And I really wanted to see the ballet.
He stared down at me, looking almost shocked, but I took his hand again and pulled him forward.
We had box seats. There was only one other couple sitting with us, much older, and they smiled politely as we took our seats. Jackson moved his chair closer to mine and took my hand. I allowed myself to lean into him a little, feeling the delicious warmth of his body seeping over to my bare arms. He smelled like the shampoo he had left me for my bath, and I breathed in deeply, trying to memorize the scent.
The lights went down, and I drew in a shaky breath. All of my senses felt heightened now. I was acutely aware of every inch of his being, of the movement of his chest, the sound of his breath. I wondered how on earth I was going to get through the performance.
But then the curtain went up, and I stopped wondering. Even with Jackson next to me, even as badly as I wanted him, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the stage. They moved with a fluidity and grace I had never witnessed before. And so much power, in their leaps and their spins. I was captivated, only barely aware of Jackson’s hand over mine.
It went like that until the moments before intermission. That was when Jackson leaned toward me and placed his lips on my neck. It was a ghost of a kiss, so quick, I could hardly tell if it was real. But then he whispered in my ear. “Please, let’s get out of here, Sofie. I’ll take you to another ballet. A hundred ballets. But if I can’t kiss you soon, I think I may go mad.”
Okay, so maybe it was a line. It certainly sounded like something from out of one of his movies. But in that moment, as I looked over at him in the darkness of the theater, I didn’t care. Because I was pretty sure I would go mad, too.
We practically ran from our very expensive box seats and down the stairs to the entrance. I felt an overwhelming desire to laugh as he took my hand and rushed past the fountain. I felt crazy. Crazy with desire and happiness and Jackson. He looked back at me, his expression a mixture of giddiness and impatience, and I quickened my step.
Once we were in the car, I wished, briefly, that we were just normal people taking a cab. Because then I wouldn’t have felt too self-conscious to kiss him. As it was, he trailed light kisses across my shoulder, and I shivered and tried desperately to keep my cool.
There were only a few fans outside when we pulled up, but I barely noticed them as we hurried into the hotel. Jackson went straight for the elevator, waving off Hector when he started to follow us. Inside, he pressed the button for ten—two floors above where we were staying—but his lips were on mine before I could ask, his body pressing me against the wall. His hands were cradling my face, running down the strands of my hair, brushing lightly across the skin of my arms. By the time we reached ten, I was trembling, my breath coming in short gasps.
He grinned down at me. “Come on.”
“Why are we on ten?” I asked, but he was already slipping a key card from his pocket, inserting it into a door that was not his own. “Jackson?”
“I moved to the suite,” he said, pushing the door open and reaching for me. “The one I normally stay in.” He pulled me into his arms, and we tumbled backward into the room. “I figured if I was going to really be myself, like you asked, I may as well do it in this room.”
I let out a peal of laughter, but he covered my mouth with his, kissing me every bit as deeply as he had in the elevator. “And if I’m going to be myself,” he whispered against my mouth, “then I suppose I have to tell you that I’m head over heels for you, Sofie Flores. I have been since I saw you walk into that church. I want you more than I think I’ve ever wanted anything.”
If there was ever any question that I let my walls down, that ended it. I reached up and spread my fingers through his silky hair, pulling his head down, kissing him until I couldn’t breathe, until I had to take his jacket off, had to unbutton his shirt, had to feel his skin against mine, or I was sure I would die. I needed him. I’d needed him for a long, long time.
He led me back to the bed, wrapping his arms around me and unzipping my dress with a slowness that I thought might make me explode. But then he was slipping the dress down, kissing my shoulders, gently pushing me back toward the bed.
I had one moment of fear. One moment of wondering if there was any way I could live up to the women he had been with. One moment when I worried the pregnancy had changed me too much. But then, he was looking down at me with something like awe in his eyes, and I stopped worrying. If Jackson said he wanted me, if he whispered that I was beautiful and perfect and everything he needed, well then who was I to doubt him.
Once Jackson took care of protection, everything moved fast, like we couldn’t get enough of each other. Like we couldn’t get close enough. There would be time enough for slow later, all night to take our time. At that moment, I just needed him. Needed him to kiss me and touch me and pull me closer and closer until I finally fell apart around him.
When he followed me, he whispered my name against my neck. Just my name, but he said it like it was precious to him.
I held him, kissing the top of his head over and over again, happier than I ever remembered being with any man.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up in the morning tangled in his arms and his sheets. He was asleep, one arm draped above his head, and I propped my head on my hand so I could look at him.
How in the hell did I get this lucky? I wondered. His hair was a mess, half covering his forehead. Dark lashes spread out over his cheeks, dark stubble on his chin. He was breathing deeply, a little snore escaping every once in a while.
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Feeling giddy, I snuggled down into his side, loving how big he was, how solid. Everything about his body was perfect. I blushed, remembering exactly how perfect that body had been the night before.
“You awake?” he mumbled. I kissed his chest in response, and he groaned. “I was so afraid it was a dream.”
“It felt like a dream,” I told him, knowing it was cheesy but not caring. My sappiness was rewarded when he pulled me up on top of him, planting a long kiss against my neck.
It was my turn to groan. “I have to go.”
“No you do not.”
I laughed. “Beth.”
He sighed, closing his eyes. “She’ll be okay for a little while, won’t she?”
“It took you a lot longer than a little while last night.”
He smirked, and my stomach swooped. God, this was fun. Lying in bed with him, teasing, laughing. I wanted to do more, wanted it almost as desperately as I had last night, but I’d been away from my daughter for far too long. I knew she had plenty of milk and was in good hands with Sam, but that didn’t change the joint ache of guilt and missing her.
I pulled myself from the bed, and Jackson groaned again. “Damn,” I said, looking around the room. The only clothes I had here was the dress. “Looks like I’m making the walk of shame.”
Jackson smirked. “I’m sure I have something.”
He climbed from the bed, rendering me speechless at the sight of his long, lean muscles. He looked even better in the light of day. He pawed through his suitcase, finally coming up with a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. They were far, far too big for me, but I made do rolling them down at the waist. When I was finished dressing, I turned and saw Jackson sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his own socks on, fully clothed in jeans and a T-shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming with you,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. When I looked like I might argue, he reached out and took my hand. “Come on, Sof. You think Sam doesn’t know what happened?”
I blushed and he chuckled, pushing my hair back from my face. “That’s adorable.”
I hit his chest. “Shut up!”
“I told him I was crazy for you,” Jackson said matter-of-factly.
“You did?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t getting very far with you being so professional. I needed some advice.”
I imagined Sam giving Jackson advice about his love life—especially when it involved me—and I couldn’t help but snort. “I would have paid good money to see that conversation.”
“It was incredibly manly and not at all weird,” he said. “Now come on and fix your hair so we can go. I’m starving.”
“One minute, he can’t stand to let me leave his bed, the next he’s starving,” I muttered, pulling the tangled mess of hair into a bun on top of my head.
“I like your hair like this,” Jackson said, coming to stand behind me, running a fingertip across my bare neck.
“It’s a mess.”
“I like it a mess.”
I turned in his arms to kiss him. I was almost afraid to leave the room, as if what we’d had was somehow fragile, unsafe out there in the real world. But Jackson took my hand, and I allowed him to lead me back to my room where my cousin and daughter waited.
To his credit, Sam didn’t laugh or make pointed glances at my outfit when we joined him in the living room area. I gleefully took Beth into my arms, kissing her face and her belly and both of her little hands. “She just ate,” Sam told me. “She could use a change, though.”
“Do you need to get dry?” I cooed at her. “Mama will help you.”
“I could do it,” Jackson offered, his voice casual. “If you want to get dressed.”
“Yeah?”
He met my gaze head on. “I mean, I should probably practice, right?”
It should have scared me, his casual mention that he planned to be around Beth in the future, that he planned to get experience in mundane things like diaper changes. But all I could feel was a giddy excitement. “Will you help him?” I asked Sam.
“Sure.”
I practically skipped into my bedroom to change. Outside, the sun was shining over New York. And Jackson Coles was in the other room. Jackson Coles who I had just totally slept with.
A sharp giggle escaped, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. I so badly wanted to call someone and share this news. But I had a feeling Lizzie, though more supportive about Jackson now, wouldn’t share in my giddiness. She had made it very clear that she didn’t think our relationship should progress past the professional. Carla or Laura would freak out, for sure, but we didn’t exactly have the kind of relationship where we talked about our sex lives.
As if on cue, my phone rang. I fished it out of the beaded purse I’d used last night to see my sister’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Carla.”
“Hey, yourself, Miss I’m-All-Over-the-Internet.”
I had been about to pull my jeans on, but I stopped with one leg out. “What?”
“There are pictures of you looking all fancy with Jackson Coles. You lucky brat. Where did you go? Some benefit or something?”
My mouth felt a little dry. Okay, at least the pictures didn’t look that intimate, or she’d be grilling me like crazy. “Yeah,” I managed, trying to sound normal. “Something like that.”
“Well, I have to tell you, little sister, if I didn’t know any better, I would totally think you were banging this guy.”
“Carla!”
“What? You haven’t seen these, Sofie. He has his arm around you, and in a couple of them, he’s looking at you like he just wants to devour you.” She giggled. “Which I guess is appropriate for Cooper from Darkness.”
Oh no. I was going to have to find these pictures. My mother was going to kill me.
There was a knock on the door. “Carla, I have to go. We’re leaving soon.”
“Okay, but I want deets when you get home. Like where did that dress come from—” I hung up before she could expound any more on the deets she was looking for.
“Sof?” Jackson called from outside. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
He opened the door, holding Beth, and my heart clenched at the sight of them. He looked so natural with her. When he saw that I was only half way into my jeans, his eyebrows went up. “Can’t say that I’m disappointed by that view.”
I pulled my jeans on the rest of the way and then reached for Beth.
“I’ll have you know I did a fantastic job. Even Sam said so.”
I nuzzled her soft hair with my cheek, not sure what to tell him about the call from my sister.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Carla just called. I guess the pictures from last night are online.”
He sat down next to me on the bed, taking Beth again so I could pull on my socks. “Does that bother you?”
I thought about it. Did it bother me? I guess it didn’t, not really. I was proud to spend the evening with someone like Jackson. I didn’t relish the inevitable conversation I’d be having with my mother, but other than that…
“No, I guess it doesn’t.”
He nodded. “Good. I’m afraid it’s just the way it goes for me. And anyone with me. Though it does get bloody annoying sometimes.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “I guess you’ll just have to get used to it.”
“Will I?”
His eyebrows knitted as he peered into my face. “Uh, won’t you?”
I so did not want to h
ave this conversation yet. It was way too early to be asking him about his expectations, wasn’t it? But now that there were media involved, and my mother was going to be hyperventilating when I got home…
“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” he asked, sitting back on the bed. He looked at Beth. “I knew your mum was going to freak out.”
“I am not!”
“Look, I’m not expecting you to realize that I’m everything you’ve ever been looking for after just one night.” He turned back to Beth. “Though I am, of course, everything she’s ever been looking for.”
“Jackson!” I was laughing. “Be serious.”
He turned his blue eyes on me, searching my face. “I am being serious. Listen, love. I wanted to show you last night what it could be like. What we could be like. I think over the past several weeks, we’ve proven what we’re like as friends, yes? Well, last night showed me, for one, how much better we could be if we were something more.”
My head was spinning with thoughts of what that something more might look like.
“So I know what I want, Sofie. I know exactly what I want. If you have to take a little longer to get there, that’s fine by me.”
“Jackson, I just think maybe it’s too fast—”
“No one is saying it has to be fast. You can take your time. Think about what you want. Think about how you want to proceed. How do you see us, Sofie? When you let yourself imagine what you really want?”
I could see us perfectly. Laughing, teasing. Playing with Beth. Discovering good food and good wine. Traveling. Everything I ever wanted. With Jackson.
He was watching my face the way he always did, and I could tell that, just like always, he could tell exactly what I was thinking about. But he merely smiled, kissed the side of my head, and stood. “Take your time, Sofie. I’m not going anywhere.”
And then he left the room, Beth still in his arms.
I stared after him for a long time. He was giving me time. Time and promises. He wanted me to be sure. Now it was up to me to figure out if I could be.
***
We left for the airport after a quick breakfast at the hotel restaurant. Hector had gone out to set up the car seat and reported that the crowd of photographers and fans outside of the building was much larger than it had been yesterday. I felt a quick flash of nerves at the thought, but Jackson caught my hand under the table and squeezed. He would be with me. So would Sam. And Bill and Hector.
Starstruck (Lovestruck Book 4) Page 22
