Chapter 3 Jack
Three
Jack
“Is there anything you need from your car?” I ask.
“My purse is in the front seat—or at least, it was—and I have a suitcase in the trunk.”
I nod. “Be right back.”
I find her purse easily, and I make sure the essentials are still in it—phone, wallet, keys.
But the trunk is another story. It’s too mangled to open, trapping her suitcase inside.
After trying for a few minutes to get it open, I head back to the truck and slide in behind the wheel, handing her her purse.
“The trunk’s jammed shut. As soon as the storm clears, I’ll have your car towed and we’ll be able to get it then.”
“Oh.” She lets out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
I wrap my hands around the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as I ease my truck back onto the road. I feel unsettled, like I could come out of my skin, with how badly I want to protect Ella. Keep her safe. Comfort her. Care for her.
I’ve known her for all of ten minutes and I’m already envisioning how I could wrap my life around hers.
“Something happened tonight,” I say as neutrally as possible as we head towards my house. I sneak glances at her out of the corner of my eye, both because I need to keep my focus on the snowy road and because every time I look at her, I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack.
She twists her fingers together in her lap. “I…I had a disagreement with my family about my future.” She glances over at me. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I nod, and the knowledge that something supremely shitty happened tonight settles in my gut.
We drive in silence the rest of the way to my house, the snow pelting the windshield.
I pull smoothly into the driveway in front of my small but cozy house I’ve lived in for the past ten years, framed in reclaimed timber, the exterior done in river rock and cedar shingles.
Lights glow softly from inside, and I glance over at Ella, trying to gauge her reaction, but her expression is impossible to read.
I cut the ignition and jog around to her side of the truck, opening the door to help her down.
Without hesitating, I circle my hands around her waist, heat pulsing through me when I realize that she’s so tiny and my hands are so big that my fingertips almost touch.
Her eyes meet mine, and she blinks slowly, her breath fogging the air between us.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I want to sink my fingers into her blond waves. I want to lose myself her sapphire eyes.
I want far filthier things than that, too. Things that will never happen because I’m twice her age, and she’s running from something.
I set her carefully on the ground and force myself to take a step back. And yet, in the next moment, I take her tiny hand in mine and lead her into the house. I don’t want to let go when we’re inside, but I do.
I shut the door behind us, sealing us away from the storm.
She looks uneasy, her arms wrapped around her middle, her eyes darting everywhere as she takes in my home.
I glance around, trying to see it through her eyes.
The entryway opens onto the living room, with its high, beamed ceilings and windows that ordinarily provide a view of the nearby mountains.
There’s a fireplace in the corner, and my naked Christmas tree stands beside it.
“Can I take your coat?” I ask, cutting off the sweetheart on the tip of my tongue just in time.
“Oh. Um, sure,” she says, shrugging out of it and handing it to me.
I nearly swallow my tongue, struck dumb by the vision in front of me.
She’s wearing a stunning red gown that shimmers in the soft light coming from the living room.
It hugs her feminine curves perfectly, making her look even more delicate and beautiful.
My heart pounds in my chest as my mouth goes dry.
And my dick goes hard.
She took off in a storm wearing this. What the fuck happened?
“I’m sorry we couldn’t get your suitcase,” I finally say, my voice hoarse. I hang her coat on one of the hooks by the door. “Would you like something to change into?”
Relief flashes in her eyes again, and she nods. “Please. That would be fantastic.”
I toe off my boots and then head to my bedroom, where I grab one of my T-shirts and a pair of my sweats, then leave them in a neat pile on the guest room bed. When I return to the entryway, Ella’s still standing there, looking around.
“The guest room’s just up the stairs, the first door on the right. I left the clothes there for you. Why don’t you get more comfortable, and I’ll make you some tea?”
She nods, then blushes furiously for some unknown reason.
“Okay. Thank you, Jack,” she says, and the sound of my name in that sweet voice of hers does something to me.
She brushes past me as she heads for the stairs, gown swishing, and her sweet scent makes me have to curl my fingers into my palms so I don’t reach out for her.
She smells like berries and flowers, like the lushness of summer, and it smells so fucking good that it honestly makes me dizzy for a second.
I wait until she disappears up the stairs, and then I stalk into the house, telling myself to get a fucking grip. It doesn’t matter how beautiful she is, or how good she smells, or how much I want to protect her. It doesn’t matter how she makes me feel when she looks at me.
It. Doesn’t. Matter.
I need to keep myself busy to stop my mind from picturing Ella peeling herself out of that gown in my guest bedroom, so I fill the kettle and flip it on, then get a fire going in the fireplace.
I head back to the kitchen and focus on the minutia of making tea.
I hear her footsteps on the stairs, and I turn as she enters the kitchen.
“Are you hun…gry?” I ask, almost not finishing my question at the sight of her. She’s wearing my old Honey Ridge Fire Department t-shirt, which comes down almost to her knees. Her legs and feet are bare, and I can see the tips of her nipples through the thin cotton.
She glances down at her bare legs and then offers me a cheeky smile. “The pants were way too big. I couldn’t get them to stay up.” Then she does a little twirl in my shirt, fingers holding the edges away from her body like it’s a designer garment. “But this will do, I think. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, the words coming out more gruffly than I’d intended. “How do you take your tea?”
“Lots of milk and sugar,” she says, leaning against the doorway. “It needs to be light brown, almost beige.”
There’s something endearing about her preference, and I focus on fixing her tea.
When it’s ready, I move to hand it to her, but when she extends her hand for it, she winces and drops her arm.
I frown, setting the tea down, then gesture at one of the kitchen chairs.
“Will you let me examine you? Make sure you’re not injured? I’m a trained paramedic.”
She frowns slightly, glancing between me and the chair. “I’m okay, Jack. Just a little shaken.”
I step closer, towering over her. I don’t miss the way her breath hitches. “Please, sweetheart. I need to know that you’re okay.”
She sits down in the chair almost instantly, her cheeks pink. I pull out the chair across from her and then move it closer. When I sit down, our knees are almost touching.
“This is just a precaution,” I reassure her. “Something I probably should’ve done as soon as we got in the door.”
She nods, biting her lower lip. I want to reach out and tug it free with my thumb, but I don’t. I clench my jaw, and focus on being the trained professional that I am.
I check her pupils again, shining a small penlight into each eye. She blinks, squinting slightly, but her pupils react normally.
“Good,” I murmur. “Now, let’s check your neck and back. Tell me if you feel pain or discomfort at any point.”
I move behind her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders.
Her muscles are tense, and I wish she was really, truly mine so that I could slather my hands in oil and rub until she felt better.
I press my thumbs lightly against the base of her skull, checking for any tenderness.
She lets out a soft sigh that goes right to my cock, her shoulders dropping slightly.
“Does this hurt?” I ask, my voice rough.
“No,” she whispers. “It feels…” She trails off, and I press my thumbs against her again. She lets out a soft moan that makes heat gather in my gut. “So good. I mean…” She makes a slightly panicked sound. “Um, it doesn’t hurt.”
I continue my examination, running my hands carefully down her spine, feeling each vertebra through the thin cotton of my shirt. Her breath hitches again as I reach the small of her back, her body arching slightly into my touch. I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the way my balls are throbbing.
“Any pain here?” I ask. Never in my professional career have I been this affected by a simple exam.
“Just a little sore,” she breathes. “Very minor.”
I move back around to face her, my hands lingering on her waist as I drop to my knees in front of her.
Her eyes meet mine, wide and innocent, but there’s a spark there, something that tells me she’s not unaffected by this.
I slide my hands down to her hips, checking for any signs of injury.
Her breathing goes ragged, her chest rising and falling in quick little pants.
“Jack,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I look up at her, my hands still on her hips. “Yes, sweetheart?”
She swallows hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I…I think I’m okay.”
I nod, my thumbs circling on her hipbones, massaging gently.
“I think so, too. But I need to be sure.” I slide my hands down to her calves, and she shifts in the chair, giving me a teasing glimpse of her little pink panties.
I glance up at her, and her eyes are bright, glittering as they meet mine.
She spreads her legs slightly and shifts in her chair, making her panties pull taught against her little pussy.
I can see the outline of her lips through the thin fabric, and my cock pulses in my pants.
I clench my teeth together and focus on the task at hand, somehow managing to tear my eyes away from the little show I can’t help but think she gave me on purpose.
I check her ankles, her feet, running my hands over every inch of her. She squirms, gasping softly as I press my thumbs into the arch of her foot.
“Ticklish?” I ask, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
She nods, giggling. The sound goes straight to my heart, making it clench in my chest. I want to hear that sound again. I want to make her laugh, make her smile. Make her moan.
Make her mine.
All thoughts I should not be thinking right now.
I stand abruptly and pace a few steps away, heart pounding, dick throbbing. I clench and unclench my fists as I walk to the sink and pour myself a glass of water, then down it in one go.
Ella turns in her chair, arms draped across the back, head resting on her hands. She’s so fucking pretty.
And so fucking young.
I want to kiss her. I want to pick her up and find out what other delicious sounds I can get her to make. I want to wrap my arms around her and shelter her from whatever sent her out into the storm in the first place.
It’s insanity. I don’t know the first thing about her.
But I want to. I want to know everything. It’s like I’ve been struck by lightning. Rearranged just from looking at her.
I need to go to sleep. I’m losing it.
“Your tea,” I say, clearing my throat when my voice comes out like sandpaper. I pick up the mug and hand it to her. When our eyes meet, there’s a sparkle in hers, something bright and almost mischievous. Does she know how wound up I am over her right now?
She bites her lip as she takes the mug from me, our fingers brushing and sending electricity racing up my arm. Her eyes widen slightly, and she smiles into her mug.
Fuck me, I think she does know. And I think she likes it.
I need to get out of here before I say or do something I can’t take back. Before I lift her onto the counter and ask her for another peek at those pink panties she flashed at me.
“You should get some rest,” I say, impressing myself with how even my voice sounds. “It’s been a long day.”
She pouts slightly. “Oh. Is the…examination over?”
“Yes. You’re fine, from what I can tell. No signs of concussion or other injury. You might be a little stiff and sore, though. There’s Tylenol in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom upstairs if you need it.”
“Okay.” She stands, cradling her mug. “Thank you, Jack. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.” She brushes past me, glancing back on the stairs, her eyes sweeping over me. Her shirt—my shirt—slips down, exposing her shoulder. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night,” she says, little ass wiggling as she heads up the stairs. I clench my teeth together so hard I’m on the verge of cracking a molar. But I don’t move. Not until I hear the snick of her door shutting behind her.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper to the silent kitchen.