Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Jack
“So, Jack. A few months ago, we saw you at Josh Hardacre’s wedding and it’s recently been announced that he and his wife are expecting. When will we see you settle down?” Beth, my favourite reporter, on my screen asks.
I haven’t interviewed with her since the anniversary of my accident, but she has reached out a few times off the record to see how I am.
Turns out she had some serious mental health struggles following a particularly difficult birth of her third child and she couldn’t have been more understanding.
It just goes to show, you really don’t know what people are going through.
I scratch the back of my neck and plaster on my biggest press smile. “Yeah, I saw they announced that. I’m over the moon for them.” I continue to grin at my screen, this time it is more genuine. I know Josh and his wife were trying for a long time before they finally got blessed with this news.
“And the other part if that question…?” Beth prompts.
I try and be playful with my reply. The truth couldn’t be more complicated if we tried. ‘Well Beth, there’s this woman, who I think I am falling for. But she only wants to use me as a rebound to get over her cheating ex. Thanks for asking.’
I stick with attempting to avoid. “Ha, can’t get away with avoiding that question, no?”
I want the wife, the kids, the dog. I want to stress about what car seat is safest and struggle to put a pram together whilst holding a baby in one arm.
I want to get up early every Sunday morning to take my child to football practice.
I want to come home and cook dinner for my wife.
I want to make love to the same woman for the rest of my life.
For a long time, I didn’t know who that woman would be.
Only now I seem to have found her, she won’t let me in.
“Just tell me if you’re still single and on the market. Our readers will want to know that,” she asks, pushing further.
I pause for a minute, wondering what Emily would want me to say in this situation.
I don’t want to disrespect her by outright denying I am with someone.
As much as our argument sucked last week, we haven’t said we’re not together anymore.
I would be upset if she still told people she was on the market.
Even if I am just a ‘rebound’, we’re still ‘rebounding’ exclusively.
I know that if I confirm I am seeing someone the press won’t leave me alone until they find out who it is.
They will wait outside the gates to my apartment block and follow me until they know exactly who I am seeing.
I already know that would freak Emily out enough for her to end this thing for good.
I am only just clinging on to her now. A media storm would kill the whole thing in an instant.
I say the only thing I can think of to bide us time. “Well, you and your readers will have to come back for another interview to find that out!” I give my best cocky smile and add in a wink for good measure.
We both laugh but I can see the disappointment in Beth’s eyes, like she has just missed out on a huge exclusive.
We talk some more about my upcoming campaigns; all the time she is prompting about if I will be seen at this event with a date, or that red carpet with a woman on my arm.
I’m not good at avoiding questions and I really don’t like lying, there are only so many times you can say, ‘yes, maybe’ or ‘I don’t know’, before people get bored and suspicious.
I’m going to have to give these guys something soon or they will start tailing me again.
The only thing getting me through this is the thought of seeing Emily tonight.
I haven’t seen her since I offered her my heart and she freaked out last week.
I know I’ve needed to give her space to figure things out, but I also don’t like the fact that she is expecting me to leave her when she lets me in.
It has been a fine balance between crowding her this week and making sure she knows she is all I am thinking about.
I probably overstepped with the flowers I sent her, but I hadn’t spoken to her in two days, and they gave her a push to call me to say thank you, which I extended to a three hour phone call.
She sounded like her normal self on the phone, but I am desperate to see her in person to get a real feel of how she is about things.
“That’s everything I think, Jack. Thank you.” Beth smiles on the other end.
“Thanks so much!” I fake grin as I wave and close my laptop. Thank fuck that’s done.
I hop off my chair, grab my keys and make my way out the door to see my woman. Well, not quite my woman. Yet.
***
Emily
If you had told me six months ago that I’d be dating a very attractive, funny, kind man that can communicate and forgive you when you fuck up, I’d say ‘huh, that doesn’t sound like Chris’. But then again, we were engaged to be married, not dating.
I spent the last week thinking about how I feel about everything with Jack.
I have spoken to Dan quite a lot about my freak out, he listened to me for hours whilst I debriefed him on the whole discussion we had.
He was very impressed with how Jack handled things.
Hell, I’m impressed by how he handled me.
Dan helped me see that I need to stop over thinking the whole thing and let Jack feel how he wants to feel.
If it happens for me fantastic, if not, then oh well.
He did have a strange look in his eye like he knows something that I haven’t figured out yet but we’re ignoring that, along with whatever fluttering feeling I have going on in my stomach right now waiting for Jack.
Jack has done well not to crowd me this week and I have found myself starting to miss him.
I know that should tell me enough about how I feel, but I’m still not ready to admit to anything yet.
Rebound sex would have been ideal, but I fear we are past that.
Would it be the end of the world to be Jack Cartwright’s girlfriend?
No. Would admitting I wanted to be with him give him the power to shatter my heart?
Yes. My heart is happy in its little cage.
Can we not just leave it alone in there?
We are having a takeaway and movie night at my house tonight, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping that meant I could jump his bones.
Taking things slow with Jack has been a process.
I was hoping, by not having sex yet, it would help keep feelings out of things, but if anything, it’s the opposite.
It’s just shown me what I could expect if I was to have a relationship with him.
I am desperate to get that man underneath me, or on top of me, or behind me.
I’m really not fussy at this point. If he could be inside me in any position, I’ll be happy.
One thing about being in a long-term relationship was that sex was pretty much on tap.
Going from that to dating the sexiest man I’ve ever seen and not having sex with him, is literally going to kill me.
There’s a knock on the door and I check my phone for the time. On time, exact to the minute. Oh, and he’s punctual too. Fucking hell.
My heart stutters as I open the door, suddenly nervous after the last time I saw him, but his big grin and bag full of food put me at ease immediately and my nerves are gone within seconds. “Hey, gorgeous,” he says as he plants a kiss to my cheek.
We eat the food he picked up and make polite conversation about our days.
He’s had a day full of meetings and interviews, and I’ve done all my ‘adult jobs’ today, cleaning, food shop etcetera.
When we finish, he helps me wash up the plates we have used.
He washes, I dry and put away, it’s all very domesticated.
I watch his arms as he scrubs the plates, tattoos flexing on his biceps. I want to lick them.
The few times we have touched, it has been accidental.
A brush of his hand on mine when he passed me a plate.
Our arms brushing when I stood too close.
All of them have sent sparks through me, quickening my heart rate.
I’m holding my breath wishing he will touch me again, just so I can feel his heat on me.
I put the last of the cutlery away and turn to face him. He is drying his hands and leaning against the kitchen counter, his chest muscles bulge under his tight t-shirt that I’m convinced he wore just to torture me. I, once again, am mesmerised at how hot he is just standing in my kitchen.
He notices me staring and smirks, heat rushes to my cheeks and I look down, avoiding his eyes.
I feel him before I see him. The heat of him surrounds me as he steps into my space and uses a finger to lift up my chin, so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to be shy when you’re admiring me,” he teases.
“Is that what I was doing?” I match his smirk.
“Mmm, I think you like what you see.”
“I do. Very much.” I agree nodding. What’s the point in lying? He knows he’s gorgeous.
“I think you dribbled a bit there.” He grins as he uses his thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth. Fuck, I want this man. I do the only thing I can think of to show him and just as his thumb caresses my lip, I reach out with my tongue and suck it into my mouth.
His eyes widen as I circle my tongue around the pad of his thumb.
His nostrils flare and I hope it is because of the same memory I have, of the last time part of him was in my mouth.
He pulls his thumb out of my mouth but he doesn’t take it far, instead he slowly sweeps it over my bottom lip, wetting it with my own saliva.
I see the moment his control drops. His eyes flare and he dips his head. His lips clash with mine. The kiss is hot and hard. It’s all teeth and tongues and need. I can do nothing but give him everything back.
His hands are everywhere, in my hair, down my back. They stop on my hips as he grips me hard and pushes me against the counter.
I groan as his hips meet mine and I feel his hard length against my stomach.
Jack matches my groan, deep in the back of his throat as he circles his hips against me.
He moves so one of his thick legs is between mine and he grips my hips harder.
He moves me to grind against his thigh, giving me the friction I am craving.
I moan as Jack moves from my lips to kiss down my neck, finding the sensitive point behind my ear.
“Mmmm, you like that?” he asks, licking the spot he has found.
I am embarrassingly feral for this man, grinding against his thigh like a sex crazed dog in heat. The only thing making me feel comfortable doing this is the feel of his hips rocking into me, also desperate.
“Yes. Jack. More.” I’m a one syllable sentence kind of girl right now.
He growls deep in the back of his throat and works his way back to my lips, kissing me firmly, but without tongue.
“No,” I whimper as I feel him regain his control and slow down, kissing me carefully.
I hear him sigh through his nose as he pecks either side of my mouth and rests his forehead on mine.
His eyes are closed and he is breathing heavily, his chest brushing my sensitive peaked nipples with every intake.
“We need to stop,” he says, squeezing my hips again. He steps back slightly so I’m no longer riding his thigh. His forehead is still on mine.
“Why?” I whisper desperately.
“Because, if we carry on, I’m going to be inside you in minutes.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” I deadpan.
“We’re supposed to be taking it slow, building trust. We’re still getting to know each other,” he says smiling down at me.
“Your middle name is David. Your favourite colour is Red. You could live without pizza, which is frankly a red flag that I have ignored. Your parents live in Spain in a house you bought them…” I list, he cuts me off by stepping back and taking my hands.
His gaze is intense as he looks at me, “I’m not ready, okay.
” He must see the confusion on my face because he continues, “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you, and I don’t mean sex.
I want you in my life. I want this to be the start of something.
I’ve never had sex with feelings before, so this is all new territory for me.
I need to be more than a rebound to you, and you need to see you’re more than a fuck to me. So, I’m going to need a minute. Okay?”
It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been thrown over me. Fucking feelings.