Chapter 40
Morgan
Morning comes, and I cannot sleep. I am up and in the kitchen, scrambling eggs and frying bacon. I slip around the guys, who fill cups of orange juice and coffee. Some can barely keep their eyes open, others are just as chipper as me.
Jack is still in bed. If he doesn’t wake up soon, I’ll get him. I wanted him to rest. He looked so peaceful.
I bite my bottom lip as I spatula eggs onto a serving platter.
It might be creepy that I stared at him sleeping.
I just love him so much. I hope he doesn’t regret last night.
I’m not proud that I threw myself at him the way I did.
He wasn’t wrong. I used my body to tempt him, and it worked.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve intentionally sinned for Jack.
I hand Alex creamer. He holds up a piece of charred bacon.
“Nice job, cook.”
“Oops. Trash it,” I say, giggling.
“Oh, I will.” Then he smirks and glances over his shoulder. “Hey, your guy’s up.”
From my peripheral, Jack steps out of the bedroom. Instantly, my heartbeat soars, excited by his sheer presence. His eyes land on me in the busy kitchen.
Quickly, I make him a plate and weave around people to bring it to him. The room quiets. Chatter ceases, forks stop stabbing, and people freeze.
Then, a few men whistle and holler.
“Better eat up after last night, lover boy!”
Oh my gosh...
They heard us.
Jack tries not to smile too smug.
But I am beet red.
I hand him the plate, and do a quick scan of the room of mischievous smiles. This is the first time in my life that everyone in a room knows I had sex.
Jack brings me close, pressing my nervous body flush with his. He kisses the top of my head and murmurs, “Don’t panic, church girl. Hell won’t open up and swallow you whole.”
I exhale a long breath. Leave it to him to sense exactly what I’m feeling.
And the world doesn’t end. I’m not ostracized. People just go back to eating and talking. My eternal damnation isn’t even a topic for breakfast conversation.
My fingers dig into his sides, afraid if I let go, something bad will happen.
“Hey,” he says.
My neck bends back, and I hold my breath, unsure what version of Jack I’m facing.
“Hi. Good morning,” I whisper back, bashful.
He smirks, then plants a sweet kiss on my lips that makes my face flush hot.
“Hope you like breakfast,” I say, but I am still uneasy.
He sits at a table, and practically drags me onto his lap. He hooks an arm around my hips, locking me firmly in place.
Doesn’t seem regretful. He wants me near. That’s promising.
I comb his hair with my fingertips as he eats quietly. It’s obvious he’s lost in thought, too.
When he finishes eating, he leans back and says, “That was good. Thanks,” but then, he rests his forehead on my arm and mumbles, “Morgan, we fucked up so bad.”
A surge of worry jolts my heart.
“What do you mean?”
Both arms pull me closer, like he can’t bear to let me go. His voice lowers, and he hesitates, like he is unsure if he should say it, but he does:
“I want more.”
“You do?” I sit straighter, astonished. “That’s great!”
“You’re engaged.”
Two words that hit hard. My stomach lurches.
Okay, he has a point. That’s a good reason to be less than overjoyed this morning. I need to find my engagement ring somewhere in that room. I need to talk to Blake. Dad. Mom.
“I’m breaking the engagement,” I blurt, my tone a mix of certainty and impulsiveness.
His brow lifts. “For an atheist.”
I cross my arms and scowl. “You are not an atheist.”
“Morgan—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” The words burst from my mouth, far more harshly than I intended. I cover my mouth and cringe. “Sorry.”
He doesn’t get mad. Instead, his eyes hold doubt, and that hurts worse. I stay on the offense.
“Just because your parents died, you lost your faith?”
Normally, Jack would probably blow up and leave, but this time, I’m the one who’s losing it. My chin trembles and tears well in my eyes. I’m angry and sad that he doesn’t believe. My hands curl into fists and my ears burn hot as I try not to cry.
“Hey, hey, Morgan. It’s okay,” he soothes. “How about we take this one day at a time?”
I sniffle back tears. “Yeah?”
He nods. “One problem at a time.”
“Yes!”
“Good.” He kisses my temple tenderly, then he grabs a bottle of sunscreen on the middle of the table. “Problem one. It’ll be sunny outside.” He dabs some on my cheeks and gently rubs it in. “There. No sunburn.”
I smile warmly and hug him, feeling better. Then, I do the same for him, slowly tracing the contours of his handsome face. I can finally touch him. Be held in his arms. Such small things that mean the world to me.
Forget the rest.
We head out and begin our day of volunteering in the coastal residential area. It’s hard work, gathering trash, flipping things over, raking and digging under the blazing sun. But I love every second because I’m with him.
Jack and I are never far from each other. We reapply each other’s sunscreen, eat lunch together, share water bottles, steal kisses, tell stories. Laugh.
By late afternoon, the entire group knows who I am, but they don’t make a big deal of it. They like to tease me, though.
One guy lobs his arm over Jack’s shoulders. “Oh yeah, I dated a Christian girl before. Hardcore, too. She was wet for Jesus.”
Jack grins at me, sly and taunting. “So is Morgan. Aren’t ya, church girl?”
“I am not!” I defend, giggling and embarrassed.
“She’s lying,” Jack says.
A couple of guys chuckle nearby. Jack points at me.
“If Jesus showed up tonight, she’d kick me out of the bedroom.”
I stamp my foot. “I would not. You guys are dumb.” I shield my face, blushing.
Jack slaps his thigh, laughing hard. “You’d say, ‘Bye Jack! Jesus is king,’ then slam the door in my face.”
I purse my lips and shake my head disapprovingly. It’s funny, but I am so not used to this kind of talk in front of men.
I lower my voice for just him to hear.
“No, I only want to be with a guy who talks like Jesus.”
He grins, wicked, and places his hands in prayer. “Good, my child, because I want to be your king in the worst ways.”
I cup his prayer hands and kiss his fingers. “I love you.”
The words give me peace to say, like I am finally living in my truth.
Jack plants playful kisses on my face, making me relax and laugh.
But he doesn’t say those magic words back. He spoke them last night. I don’t understand his reluctance. However, I know he’s difficult and guarded.
“One problem at a time,” I whisper to myself and focus on the present.
The day continues in a positive direction. Jack and I catch up, and sometimes, the things he says surprise me.
“Hold on, you haven’t slept with Blake?”
“No,” I answer softly.
He blinks several times. “Are you telling me-”
“Yes. You’re still the only guy I’ve... you know, been with.”
I expect him to smile. Maybe praise me.
He just stares, bewildered.
Twisting my fingers nervously, I ask, “Have you been sleeping with women? Since Ingrid posted that video and you went viral?”
He laughs.
Literally laughs.
“What’s so funny?” I pout.
“Oh, Morgan,” he mutters dismissively, like I am hopeless. “You know the code.”
He tosses me his phone.
I catch it and rush to a curb, making this moment my break time. For the next ten minutes, I scour his DMs. As I suspected, they’re flooded with women messaging him.
All unread.
I flinch when I realize Jack’s standing over me, staring down. I hand him his phone. I don’t know what to say. I feel too blessed for words. We weren’t even together. He thought I was sleeping with Blake. He had every reason to indulge.
He helps me to a stand and I crash into him, squeezing him as tightly as I can. My cheek presses to his hard body. We don’t say anything.
Soon, I learn something else about Jack.
His protectiveness runs deeper than a thing that happens whenever his anger boils over.
It wasn’t obvious at first, but then, little things started to add up.
First, if a guy talks to me for a while, he’ll interrupt and make an excuse to lead me away. If I get a drink from the cooler, he insists on coming with me. Even if I need to go to the bathroom, he’ll wait outside.
The unusual part is, he downplays it. Acts like it’s no big deal.
When I cut my forearm on a branch, I head to the first aid tent.
My tall shadow follows.
I give him a sweet smile. “It’s just a scrape,” I assure. “I’m getting a Band-aid.”
He shrugs, and glances away. “I’ll come with you.”
I squint at him, trying to decipher what he’s worried about.
Something seems off. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it, and knowing Jack, I should wait for the right time to ask.
It seems like the more time I spend with him, the more I break down his walls.
The best part is, I know it’s hard for him, but he must want this as much as I do. He’s trying to open up.
The last thing I learn about him is the sweetest.
He likes hugs. A lot.
Every time I end up by his side, he pulls me close and gives a quick, but tight squeeze. It never lasts long. He delivers a firm kiss on the top of my head, then lets go like it never happened.
Later he does again. And again.
As the orange sun sets, I get close to test him. Sure enough, he gives me a hug, but this time, I hang onto him. He lets me, waiting for me to end it.
Oh yeah, he likes hugs.
My phone buzzes and I check the screen.
Blake.
I slip it back into my pocket fast. I have to tell him when I get back. Tell everyone. I gaze into the distance, feeling numb. I don’t know how I’ll do this. I’m cheating. An adulteress. But the truth is, I always felt I was cheating on Jack even though I wasn’t with him.
My heart is his. It has been.
I glance up. Jack’s eyes are on me, but they veer, as if he didn’t want me to catch him staring.
Something twists in my stomach. I need him to help me through the chaos that’s sure to come. I can’t do this alone. I just pray his heart is mine, too.
Dread creeps into my chest like poison, consuming and destructive.
Because with Jack, his faith isn’t the only problem. It’s getting him to trust me.
I have one more day with him. I just pray this incredible progress with him doesn’t fall apart.