33. Morgan
Chapter 33
Morgan
J ack and I woke up together in my house on a Friday morning a few days before the gala.
“You should meet my family,” Jack said against my temple. We were tangled in my bed, my leg flung over his hip, his face squished between mine and the pillow, our arms wrapped around each other. I could see the edge of the tattoo on his back, and I was tracing the lines over and over with the tip of my finger, tickling his skin with my fingernail. It was chilly – we’d yet to experience the second summer that inevitably came every year – but the body heat we were sharing was still just a side benefit to the proximity. Either way, wild horses couldn’t have dragged me even an inch away from Jack until the moment I had to leave for work. I wished desperately I could call in sick again. We could make love, I could read a book, we could just never leave the house … but Jack had to leave for work soon. They were scoping a new job – the biggest one they’d ever taken on, apparently – and Jack’s dad had decided to foist all of the admin onto his unwitting son.
“We haven’t even told our friends,” I said instead.
“Mmmm,” he groaned. “Maybe we should do that, too.”
“Nooooo, not the bubble,” I said. “You know Chloe is going to be insufferable once we tell her.”
“It’s been four weeks, babe.” My heart clinched at the casual “babe” – he said it constantly, my actual name apparently lost to him, but I got butterflies every time.
“Exactly. Weeks. That’s nothing.”
“Your call,” he said, but he sounded grumpy. “But we can’t hide this whilst we’re in America.”
The Ren Faire was just a month away, and I’d been thinking every single day about how magical it would be to walk hand-in-hand with Jack through the festival.
“No, you’re right,” I said. “Plus, Chloe needs to know before the gala.” The gala, on the other hand, was now only a week away, and Chloe would definitely be there. If Jack were to be my safe harbour in the hurricane of my job, it would be pretty obvious.
“You should come to film night tonight,” he said. And though part of me felt a little weird about intruding on their years-long tradition, it actually made me really happy to think about their little threesome becoming a foursome. I smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, okay.”
Jack smiled back, and leaned in to kiss me. My alarm went off right as our lips met, and he groaned into my mouth.
“I don’t want to go,” he said, pulling back from me and covering his face with a pillow. I frowned at his sudden distance, despite the fact that we were still basically one person from the hips down, and so I burrowed under the pillow to get close to him again.
“You can’t make me go,” he said to me, his breath hot under the pillow.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. “But that means I have to go, too. It’s crunch time.”
“My kingdom for a lazy day in bed with you,” he said, pulling me close and kissing the tip of my nose. I giggled in response.
“You get those every weekend.”
“But I want it now ,” he insisted, throwing the pillow off our faces and onto the floor.
“You just want to avoid this walk-through with your dad.”
“Both can be true,” he said. “But you’re right, I really don’t want to do this.”
“Better get used to it,” I said, sitting up and running a finger down his chest. “You’re the future face of Evans Contractors!”
I meant it in a joking sort of way, but I saw his face fall in exhaustion.
“Don’t remind me.”
I hated seeing him like this. Every time he had to do anything for work other than build – every quote visit, every “finance day”, every little whiff of management – he deflated. He obviously hated it. Why wouldn’t he at least admit it to me?
“Hey, question for you,” I said, laying my head down on his arm, continuing drawing on his chest with my finger. I could feel it rising and falling with his breath.
“Answer for you,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“If you weren’t taking over the business, what would you want to do?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, because that’s what’s happening.”
“Right,” I said, “but if it weren’t.”
The laughter disappeared from his voice. “But I am,” he said. “So there’s no point in getting carried away with what-ifs.”
“But surely there is a point, if you don’t actually like it?”
Jack’s body tensed, and his chest went still, as if he were holding his breath.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, all the warmth and grogginess gone from his voice. It was almost disconcerting. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well, I mean, it’s obvious from how you react every time you have to do his job instead of yours.”
Jack stretched a bit and then wiggled out from under me, sitting up on the edge of the bed. My hand fell to the sheet as he moved away.
“I think you’re reading too much into it,” he said. “I’m perfectly happy, I promise. Plus, it’s really nice to feel like I get to help my family out.”
“Whatever you say,” I said with a sigh. Work was yet another landmine in the landscape of Jack Evans, it seemed. “But can you humour me for a moment?” I reached up and poked his arm, pawing at him until he turned to face me.
“Sure,” he said, softening again. “Go on then.” He smiled at me, but it wasn’t the deep smile he’d been wearing when we woke up together.
“If you could have any job ever, what would it be?”
His smile widened. “Okay fine, that’s easy,” he said, and I sat up, anticipating some unexpected insight into him. But then his smile tightened into a smirk. “I’d be a naked butler with exactly one customer.”
“Hmmmm,” I said, playing into his joke even though it hadn’t been what I was after. I could keep it light. “I could think of a few uses for a naked butler.” I reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to me. We kissed once, twice, three times, his tongue running gently along my bottom lip in a way that made it tingle. Then he broke away and winked at me.
“Oh, I didn’t mean you,” he said, and I rolled away from him in mock anger. I pressed myself up on my elbows and glared at him.
“Sorry, who is it that’s managed to monopolise my man?”
“Chloe, obviously,” he said, running a finger down my spine like I had run mine down his chest just moments ago. “She’s said she would pay me to clean her flat in the buff once a month.”
“Just once a month? That doesn’t sound like enough to live off.”
“It’s a filthy flat,” he said. “Takes ages.”
“That sounds painfully inefficient.” I arched my back as he walked his fingers back up towards my neck, nuzzling at my ear. “Seems you should take a ‘little and often’ approach if you ask me.”
Jack leaned in to whisper in my ear, his voice dropping into a low rumble that I could feel in my belly. “Oh, is it efficiency you value? Because I can be efficient.”
“I mean, efficiency isn’t everything,” I said, my voice breathy as he hovered over me from behind, pressing a tantalisingly gentle kiss first to the nape of my neck, and then below that, and then below that.
“No, you’re right,” he said, dropping a knee between my legs, then suddenly using it to spread me apart. I audibly gasped as the cold air hit my wetness.
Over the last four weeks, Jack had learned exactly what buttons to press to make me lose myself almost right away. I was almost cross over how easy it was for him, when I’d had to work hard for it my entire adult life.
But as Jack nibbled at my ear, and then my neck, and then my shoulder, I was the furthest from cross. If I’d thought his attention to detail only extended as far as my preferred sandwich, I’d been painfully wrong. No, deliciously wrong.
And as Jack positioned himself at my entrance, one hand on my hip and the other wrapped in my hair, and pulled me back onto him, I couldn’t remember a single reason I’d ever had to be cross in my entire life.
* * *
Less than an hour later, I was sat at my desk, looking even less put together than my already quite casual standards for work attire. My getting ready time had been … eaten into, so to speak. But I was far too busy to worry about what I looked like.
I scanned my to-do list, which was laughably long; there was actually, literally, no chance of me getting through all of it by the end of the day. And if the past week had been anything to go by, it would be twice as long by the time I went home. I’d even had to push my second interview with the software company to after the gala; there was just no way I would be able to make it happen before.
Aaron came up and set a tea down on my desk. For the person who was, in theory, running the event, he seemed significantly less stressed than me. But he always brought me caffeine, so I didn’t get too angry.
“Simone wants to see us in her office,” he said, and I audibly groaned; Simone was a bit of a micro-manager, and I spent so much time answering to her about what I was doing that it made it difficult to actually, you know, do it . But I shut my laptop and carried it with me after Aaron, not forgetting the mug of tea as I went.
Simone got straight to the point, which I loved about her. “Aaron’s parental leave is starting next week, and he’s just handed in his notice. So that means he won’t be coming back, as we discussed might happen.”
“I see,” I said, nodding along. No wonder he’d been so checked out recently; I hadn’t realised he would be gone so immediately after the event.
“He tells me you’ve been managing the gala pretty much solo,” she said, and I tried not to be shocked at actually being recognised for how hard I’d been working. “So, assuming next week goes well, and we hit our fundraising goal…”
Part of me knew what she was going to say, and I braced myself for it.
“… the promotion we talked about is yours.”
Simone talked me through the next steps she’d initiate the next week, and I tried to look appreciative, but it was all I could do to nod along without checking out. On the way back to my desk, Aaron talked my ear off about all the things I’d need to brush up on. It sounded exhausting. I thanked him again and told him I needed to get to work, and he nodded at me conspiratorially before walking away.
“What was that about?” Chloe stage-whispered.
“Ugh, nothing,” I said. I felt a little bit bad, but then again, there was a lot I hadn’t told her about at the moment. Hell, she didn’t even know I was crashing film night later.
But also, telling Chloe meant telling Jack. Not because she would mention it, though that was a genuine risk. But because he was my boyfriend. My partner, even. He deserved to know. But I was dragging my feet, because part of me knew that if I told him about that job opportunity, I also needed to tell him about the others I’d been going after. And deep down I knew how that conversation would go.
* * *
Jack texted me at about five, asking if I could be ready by six fifteen instead of six thirty. I knew Chloe wouldn’t be arriving until seven, so I figured he must have finished work sooner than expected, and I knew exactly why he wanted me early. I rushed through my tasks for the rest of the day, more than willing to make them Monday Morgan’s problem so that I could steal away to my boyfriend’s house for a quickie.
I mean, he was my boyfriend, right? We hadn’t used those words, but something about “If you want me, I’m yours” and spending every night together gave off serious boyfriend vibes. I made a mental note to clarify the terminology with him, just as soon as I’d had my second orgasm of the day.
Jack and I had to prioritise the efficiency we’d joked about earlier, but we just managed to get each other off again before Phil knocked on the door. Helpfully we were already on the sofa, so I hurried to pull my pants back on as Jack buttoned his trousers and walked to the entry.
“Why was your door locked?” Phil asked as he walked in with a bag of food in one hand and a tray of takeaway cups in the other.
When he came around the corner to see me sitting on the sofa, no doubt looking extremely guilty, he froze for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between Jack and me as he worked through the clues: two people moving apart suddenly, one with mussed hair, the other with the top of her dungarees undone, throw cushions cast onto the floor.
When it all clicked into place, he threw his hands in the air like his football team had scored, and several chips launched out of the bag; miraculously the cups stayed securely in the tray.
“Finally!” he yelled, just as the door clicked open again.
“I’m here!” came Chloe’s voice, and she rounded the corner to see Jack standing over me at the sofa, and Phil looking like he’d just scored a goal.
I watched Chloe’s face carefully – I wasn’t worried about her reaction, per se, but I was interested to see just how she’d react – and I was disappointed when, instead of smiling or squealing as she was wont to do, she frowned.
“Ah, shit,” she said, walking over to Phil. She dug through her bag, producing a five- pound note and handing it to him. “I’ve been keeping that on me since my birthday, you know. I really thought they’d hold out on telling us until the Ren Faire.”
“Nah,” Phil said, napping the bank note in front of him before pocketing it. “No way they were keeping that secret for more than a month. You guys only made my deadline by a couple of days, so thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, and I looked up to see him staring at them with his mouth agape. “You both knew about this?”
Chloe laughed. “Please, you two have been making googly eyes at each other for months. This was an inevitability.”
“I would have known even if I hadn’t been there,” Phil said, setting the food down on the coffee table.
Chloe punched him on the arm. “I’m sorry, you were there ? You didn’t tell me that!”
“It was even at your birthday,” Phil said tauntingly, and Chloe groaned.
“Nobody tells me anything,” she said.
Jack and I looked at each other disbelievingly. If there had been any part of us that had been nervous about this, it was long gone.
“Well, we’re telling you now,” Jack said.
“Fat lot of good that does,” Chloe replied, rolling her eyes. She slumped down on the sofa next to me and put her head on my shoulder, where Jack patted it. “Congrats, I guess.”
“Thanks,” I said, leaning my head on hers. “Very touching.”
“Listen,” Phil said, coming to sit on the other side of me, leaving Jack without a seat. His house had been designed for three at a time. “Since you’re here, I’ve actually got some Ren Faire stuff to show you.”
“Ooh, yes please,” I said as Phil pulled out his phone.
“Here’s the chain mail,” he said, pulling up a picture of what finally looked like a shirt. “We’ll have to spray paint it like I said, but we’re getting there.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, thankful that I wouldn’t have to lug around a fully metal shirt all day. I was sure I was more capable now than ever, with the adventure-packed summer I’d had, but I didn’t relish the idea.
“So are you two like, boyfriend-girlfriend now?” Chloe asked.
“I mean…” I started, tilting my chin back to look at Jack.
“You okay with that?” he asked. He held my gaze softly, like he was just asking me if I wanted a cup of tea.
“Yes,” I said. “I am.” He smiled gently, his eyes wrinkling in the corners like I loved, and he pressed an upside down, Spiderman-style kiss to my lips.
“This is all very sweet,” Phil said, “but if you’re going to be a part of film night, you have to take a turn on food. I can’t keep buying these stupid expensive burgers every three weeks.”
“Then don’t buy the stupid expensive burgers,” Jack said. “No one makes you go to Five Guys every time it’s your turn.”
Phil grimaced, like Jack’s reply was pure blasphemy.
Jack sat in front of me on the floor, and I leaned forward to drape my arms over his shoulders, pressing the side of my face to his. He scrolled through the app on the TV to find the film we’d picked out: some obscure sci-fi release he’d had his eye on. They’d agreed to watch It , but with me joining, horror was off the table. I’d have to make sure I didn’t crash every single film night so they could still get their spooky fix.
As the opening credits started, I finally let myself settle into the sofa and into the moment. If this was my new normal, I was more than happy with that. I only hoped it would go as well with his family the next day.
But I wasn’t left to revel in my satisfaction for long.
“So, what was that at work earlier?” Chloe asked. “With Aaron?”
My stomach dropped.
“Everything okay with the gala?” Jack asked from the other side of me. “Aaron being unhelpful again?”
Over the last few weeks, Jack had become intimately familiar with the logistics for the gala. He knew about every drawing, every spreadsheet, and every vendor conversation; venting to him had, I was pretty sure, been the only thing keeping me sane.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” I said. “I mean, well, no, he’s still hugely unhelpful. But that’s not what was happening.” I pleaded with Chloe with my gaze to change the subject, but we’d always been terrible at telepathy.
“Then what was?” Chloe asked. “He seemed excited about something, and I haven’t heard him willingly talk about anything but his unborn child in months.”
I had my back resting against Jack, but I felt him look down at me. There was no good reason not to tell him. It was weird that I hadn’t told him already, even. But something in the back of my mind knew that it was a can of worms.
“Well…” I started, grateful I only had to look at Chloe. “He’s leaving, actually. And Simone says I can have his job if we hit our goal next week.”
Chloe shrieked and clapped for the second time this evening; she almost spilled her drink down me in the process. “That’s so great!” she said. “That’s a killer promotion!”
“I know,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt, “but nothing’s official yet.”
“Still,” she said. “That’s amazing you’re being considered. I’m so jealous. And only mildly annoyed that I’ll have to keep covering part of your call list.”
I finally mustered the courage to look up at Jack, who was smiling; of course he was. Because he thought this meant more than it did.
Suddenly I was grateful we had a film to watch so I couldn’t find out why.