Chapter 8
Eight
March 14
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I don’t know.” Jack and Ringo jump out and he shuts the door with a soft thunk , reminding me I’m in luxury. In no time, Jack’s helping me out and up the stairs to his grand covered porch that appears to wrap around his entire house. The ceiling’s light blue color complements the island vibe.
“Jack… This is stunning.”
“Thanks. It’s home,” he says as he pulls the screen door open. “I can hide away here. Write some songs.”
“I love this color.”
Jack follows my eyes upward. “That’s haint-blue; it’s meant to ward off the evil spirits that might want to harm the people who live inside.” Jack laughs. “It’s also supposed to help ward off bugs. But hey, let’s get ya inside.”
He opens the heavy wooden doors into a huge, open room with matching dark wood floors. Walls of windows reveal an expansive view of the Caribbean Sea. Jack helps me over to a slipcovered white sectional, his muscular arm keeping me from losing my balance.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” he says, guiding me into a corner of the U-shaped sofa. Jack helps me turn so I’m resting against the back and my leg is stretched out on the cushions, pillows elevating my foot. “How ya feeling?” He softly kisses my forehead, and I fist a hand in his T-shirt, the fabric thin and torn from years in the sun and salt.
“I feel better when you do that.” I smooth the crumpled fabric as I let go, Jack’s tanned chest warming my palm from beneath.
“You do?” I get another kiss with that answer.
“I’m actually feeling a lot better. I’m pretty certain the doctor got out all the spines. It’s painful, but it doesn’t feel infected. I should be good to go soon.”
“You’ll feel even better once I open the doors.” Jack unlocks the latch on the sliders and pushes a button on the wall. One by one, the panels collapse upon themselves like an accordion until they vanish into a pocket into the wall. It looks like there were never any doors there to begin with.
With the doors hidden away, the breeze brings in the fresh air, heavy with the scent of salt and flowers and nutmeg. The aromatic mixture should be bottled and sold to tourists as a souvenir of their trip to St. John.
“How’s that?” Jack asks as the spicy sea breeze blows through our hair. He sits on the sofa with me. “Is it too much?”
“Oh no,” I say, brushing my breeze-blown hair out of my eyes. “This is perfect.”
“Are ya hungry?” Jack leans in close and kisses me gently. “Do ya want some eggs?” he asks softly.
“Sure.” I’ve never been kissed this sweetly.
“How do ya like them?” he asks, staying close and soft.
“However you like to make them,” I whisper, and I linger on his lips a little longer, delaying breakfast.
“Do you like jalapenos?”
“I don’t hate them.”
“Scrambled with jalapenos and a little cheese. It’s a great way to start the day. Coffee too?”
“Sure. I don’t think anyone has ever waited on me, except once when I was little and home from school sick. My mom took care of me.”
“Well, give me the opportunity. I’d love to take care of you.” Jack moves over to the kitchen island behind the sofa where he begins assembling our breakfast.
He opens and closes his six-foot-wide stainless refrigerator/freezer numerous times. “I really like cooking, and I don’t get to do it often,” he calls out to me.
Jack is busy at the stove, but he’s able to run a cup of freshly brewed coffee over to me to sip on while he finishes making breakfast. He remembered how I like it, with a little cream. Jack has a good memory, and the coffee tastes delicious.
Ringo must have slipped in through a dog door because he appears out of nowhere and joins me on the couch for his early morning nap. I stroke his fur distractedly as I think about my current circumstances. I could get used to this. Being in a relationship with someone who wants balance, who doesn’t demand I cook hot meals for him three times a day? I could definitely get used to this.
“Breakfast is served.” Jack walks over, carrying a full tray. I rouse Ringo and encourage him to the floor, then Jack sets the tray on my lap.
“Oh, yum. This looks amazing.” Intensely yellow eggs, scrambled with bright green jalapeno slices and cheese, have been plated attractively with a small bowl of tropical fruit cut up for easy eating. “You really outdid yourself. Thank you!”
“I always have jalapenos for breakfast. I feel they rev up my metabolism for my workouts. You should eat them too; they’re high in folate, and ya need that now more than ever.”
“Oh yeah?” If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up. I take a bite of the eggs. They are so good, I eat the whole plate and start in on the fruit.
“I meant it when I said ya could stay here. I live here by myself. Well, I have staff—Ramone and Gabreille. But other than them, it’s just me.”
“I’m just so unsure about everything. Last night, I was ready to book my flight back to Maine, but where do I go from there?” I sigh and put down the fork that’s loaded with a piece of pineapple. “I really have no place to go. And I don’t want to impose on you. I don’t want to impose on anyone.” I look down, trying to stay calm and not let him see how overwhelmed I am.
“What?” He lifts my chin up so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. It’s then I realize they are haint-blue, the color of protection.
Jack is a protector.
My protector.
“I would miss you,” I whisper loud enough for him to hear.
“Ooh, I like hearing ya say that.” He grins, and I roll my eyes. “I would miss ya so much if you left.” He moves closer, careful not to disturb my elevated foot. “Please don’t go anywhere. Stay and figure things out.”
“Is this how you make breakfast all the time?” I pop the fork into my mouth and smile with a mouth full of sweetness.
“Is that a yes?” Jack moves in and wraps his arms around me.
“Trial basis?”
“Absolutely! Whatever ya need.” He bends down and kisses me. “I’ll take good care of ya.”
Ringo must have had enough of us because he scampers from the room, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor as he trots out of sight.
I run my hand through Jack’s hair. Feeling brave, I add my other hand, burying my fingers in his unruly golden locks. Jack leans into my palms, and I pull him up to me. I look into his dancing haint-blue eyes and feel relief that I am in a good place to heal my body. And just maybe, my soul.
He kisses me, heating my lips with jalapeno, and scratches my face with his unshaven cheeks. Warmth floods me, rekindling the flame he first stirred to life a week ago.
And there it is, the attraction I’ve been trying to deny. Something that has been growing between us the whole time I’ve been on the island and I missed when he was gone.
Jack’s right. We could be perfect together, and if I give this a chance—no, if we give this a chance—we could be great together. I lose myself in his kisses and shiver with his touches.
My breathing changes; my exhales are short. Keeping air in my lungs is difficult. His muscular arms wrap around me, creating a framework of support and care I never want to leave.
The strength of his muscles contrasts with the gentleness of his soft kisses. I really love both of them.
Jack rises and stands above me, blocking the sun from my eyes. He stretches out his hand for me to take.
“Come with me. I want to show ya our room.” I reach up and take his hand. His grip pulls me from the couch and into his arms. “Lean on me; I don’t want ya to put any weight on your foot.”
I nod breathlessly and lean on Jack, holding onto him. I’m dizzy with arousal. “I might fall over.”
“I won’t let that happen.” Jack’s voice is low and his eyebrows flattened. The haint-blue has deepened.
“Are we alone?” I pant, weaving my fingers into his sun-bleached hair. Feeling his body against mine is setting off ripples deep in my abdomen.
“Everyone is in town.” I love the baby kisses he’s sprinkling all over my face. “They won’t be back for a while.” Jack finds my mouth with his, and his arms hold me tighter as I start to fall.
“I’ll show ya the bedroom later.” He picks me up, an arm under my knees and the other behind my back, and effortlessly carries me back to the couch. “Scoot over. I’m gonna join ya.”
I slide over so my back is against the sofa, and Jack lies down facing me.
“Comfy?” His muscular arms are around me, pulling me close to him. I love his hard body against my soft one.
“Very,” I say, snuggling against his chest. I trace his nipple around and around with my index finger, smiling when the nub becomes erect.
“Where were we?” Jack kisses my forehead, lowering his lips to my nose and then my lips, playing first with my upper lip, then the lower.
“You’re one of the strongest people I have ever met,” Jack says in between kisses.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, also the smartest and one of the most loyal people I know.”
I kiss him back, deeply. “What would you say that for?”
Jack pulls himself off my lips and his haint blues look at me. “I apologized for reading your diary notes, but they gave me extra insight into who ya are, what ya value. You love your kids, more than anything. You gave up everything to stay with them. And ya stood by your ex-husband, even though he was a fucking ass to ya. All ya wanted was your family to stay together.” Jack brushes my hair off my forehead to make way for more kisses. “You survived by being smart and keeping your head down.
“Now ya don’t need anyone to make you happy. You can make yourself happy. You don’t need anyone to make plans for ya; you just need to make them and follow through.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because I think you should know.” Jack’s lips caress mine. “I’m sure Bob never complimented you about anything.”
“Ben.”
“Huh?”
“Ben. My ex-husband’s name is Ben.”
“Alright, I’m sure Ben ”—Jack distorts Ben’s name to make him sound like a villain—“never complimented ya for anything.”
“No.” I pause for what seems like a long, awkward moment. “I can’t remember a time he has.”
“But you’re still open to new experiences and new relationships.” Jack smiles and rubs my side. “You aren’t broken, ya still like people, and ya still have a sense of humor.”
“Because I haven’t given up yet.”
“And ya had no idea who I was, like that I sang and stuff.”
“No, I still think you’re an island bum.”
“Oh, that’s what I want to be, believe me.” Jack laughs. “But ya took a chance on me without knowing everything about me, and I really, really love that.”
“I almost ran back into the villa and locked the door when I saw the Jeep.”
“But ya didn’t.”
“What was that? Like a test or something?”
“No! I just really love driving Jolene.” Jack looks serious again. “But you wanted to stay with me for me.”
“You’re funny and I like being around you.” Jack really likes my response, because he squeezes his arms tight, almost breaking me in two. When he lets up on his grip enough for me to speak again, I squeak out, “And I think you’re really hot.”
“Yup, I knew ya thought I was sexy.” I slap at him and he shields himself several times before grabbing my wrists as we laugh at our mutual attraction for each other. And then we’re kissing heavily again.
Jack’s hands lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “I love these.” He cups them in his hands, teasing my nipples with his thumbs while keeping my lips engaged with his. I feel his arousal grow hard against my thigh, and I can’t help but notice how wet I have become and how much I want to have him inside me. I guess that’s where the term “wet and willing” comes from because I am certainly both.
I bend my upper knee and slide my leg over his hip. His hand migrates down to my thigh and holds it tight so it can’t move as he feels his way around with his clothed erection.
Jack pulls away from our kiss to breathe. “Oh, Isa. I want you so badly,” putting words to his actions. But it makes me want him more.
The front door opens, and a man and a woman walk in, talking as they come right toward us.
Jack grabs the bottom of my shirt and quickly pulls it down to my waist where it belongs before he sits up. I never did put a bra on this morning.
“What are you two doing back so early?” Jack asks the intruders.
“Hello, Mr. Jack. We are dropping off the groceries so they don’t spoil,” the woman says. “We are going to go back to town after lunch and finish our errands.”
“Oh, thank ya for that.” Jack takes a deep breath. “I want ya to meet someone.” Jack smiles and looks down at me and helps me sit up. “This is Isa Cushing. She’s living here for the time being.”
“Oooh, hello!” The woman smiles and comes over. She looks at my wrapped foot. “Uh-oh! What happened? Did Jack step on you?” She gives me a big hug. “My name is Gabrielle. If you need anything, you let me know.”
“And this is Ramone, Gabrielle’s husband.” Jack says as Ramone sets a bag of groceries on the kitchen island, waves to me, and heads back outside, I assume to get more.
“I will make some lunch for everyone shortly,” Gabrielle says. I’m pretty sure she has no idea what she and Ramone interrupted. “So tell me, Miss Isa. What happened to your foot?” she demands as she opens a cabinet to put away the food.
“I stepped on a sea urchin.” I look down at my wrapped foot. I wonder if Jack is disappointed that we were interrupted?
“Oh no!” Gabrielle says. Her cheerfulness is gone and concern has taken over. “We will get you better.”
“Thank you, Gabrielle.” She’s a very sweet woman; Jack is lucky to have her on his staff. “Dr. Easton said it should heal up good as new.”
“Dr. Easton is a good doctor.” Gabrielle turns to face me. “It is so nice to have a woman living here, finally.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright. That’s enough,” Jack says. I’m guessing he doesn’t want his staff and his girlfriend ganging up on him. He bends down and whispers in my ear, “Pick up where we left off after lunch?”
I don’t say anything, just take his hand and grin.