Chapter 3
JACK
Abby looks at him with those green eyes of hers and it's all he can do to keep his mouth shut. There's no point in worrying her when he doesn't even know what's going on. So far this resembles the normal start to a show, but deep within him, Jack knows something else is happening. It's nothing more than a feeling, but it makes him want to protect Abby from the brunt of it. If he can figure things out quickly, he can tell her it's nothing to worry about. Jack has gone through this before, alone. There are always people who protest his work, but this time it's different. The typical hate mail that Gus is always receiving now has a personal twist on it. Instead of aiming at his art, the protesters are aiming at his heart. It's been hard enough when they've accuse him of horrible things and pointed at his paintings like they're proof. But everything has shifted this time. The fingers are pointing at him, and the art is secondary - a reason to show up and crucify Jack. After everything that's happened, Jack doesn't know how well Abby will take it. When the scandal hit a few months back, it nearly tore them apart.
Jack runs his fingers through his hair. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it's the same old crap in different packaging. Even as he thinks it, Jack knows it's not true. There's more to it than that. He just doesn't know what.
Abby leans into him, breathing in his scent. Jack lets his worries scatter. Tonight is about her. He reaches for the door and the two walk along the beach under the moonlight. The wind lifts Abby's hair, blowing it in his face.
She pulls it back. "Sorry. It's been uncontrollable this week." Uncertainty flashes across her face, like she has no idea how stunning she is.
Grabbing her shoulder before she can pull away, Jack says, "It's been perfect. I like it when it's all soft and wavy like this. It reminds me of what it's like in bed, after I've run my fingers through it." By the time Jack finishes speaking, his voice has dropped to a whisper. One of the things that surprised him was how much Abby likes it when he leans in close to her ear and whispers stuff like that. The response is instant. She glows, and a shy smile creeps across those ruby red lips. Jack pulls her to a stop and looks down at his wife. His eyes fixate on her mouth, on the perfect curve of her upper lip, the way it forms a beautiful bow, but it's the lower lip that makes his mouth water and fills him with need. It curves so perfectly that it fills his mind with all the times he's nipped it and sucked it into his mouth. A flash of heat washes over Jack as the memories rush through his mind. Too many of them are of bare skin for him not to be aroused.
Leaning in slowly, he presses his mouth to hers. The kiss is gentle. The roar of his pulse drowns out every other sound except Abby's sweet little sigh. Jack's lashes lower. He presses his forehead to hers, wanting her.
"We can go back to the room," she offers.
Jack's gaze slips sideways to the beach. He thinks about her slick body writhing beneath his as the waves crash over them. It's a fantasy he's had about Abby since high school. Some things never change, but he can't ask her for that. Not yet. Abby is so shy about things. She still doesn't understand what she does to him, not fully. It's like being offered air and then having it taken away. When Jack's not with her, there's a pressure on his chest, like he can't breathe. Jack's never felt that before. Not ever. He doesn't know what it is and had assumed it would fade after the wedding, but it hasn't. If anything, it's gotten worse. Abby is his air, his life. She always has been, he just feels it so much more intensely now, like a wire that runs through his soul, binding him to her.
Jack touches the sides of Abby's face, feeling the softness of her cheek and letting his fingers linger along the curve of her neck. Jack can feel her body responding to his touch in the way she tilts her head back and parts her lips. It reminds him of the things they did last night, of Abby's ecstasy and the way she threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. It reminds him of paint and pleasure, of passion so hot and bright that he can barely restrain it.
The moonlight reflects on her hair, forming a golden crown. Jack drinks her in, wanting to remember this moment. There's no one like Abby, there never will be, and for this moment in time - everything is perfect.
Jack has to force his voice out. She's stolen it again with that bewitching glance of hers. It's as careless as a flick of the wrist, but it sizzles under his skin every time Abby looks at him that way. "We could, but then we wouldn't get to do the things I planned for our last night here."
"Ah, so that's what all the secrecy has been about?" Abby says, smiling up at him. She points a finger and places it on his chest, just above his shirt. Something in her eyes relaxes. It makes the guilt festering in his stomach creep up his throat. She senses that something's wrong. Damn, am I so easy to read?
Jack smiles at her, running his fingers through her bright hair. "Maybe," he answers, playfully. A grin spreads across his face as he thinks about the things he has arranged for this evening. Jack has no idea how the night will go, if Abby will offer herself to him the way he hopes. Even if she can't, he's glad he did it. The look on her face alone when she sees what he's done will be worth it.
Abby looks up at him from beneath her lashes. She pushes her fingers into his chest, giving him a playful shove. "Oh, you're horrible. I had no idea you'd done anything. I didn't get anything for you. I thought - "
Before her voice squeaks any higher, Jack cuts her off, saying, "It's for both of us." Reaching for her hands, Jack pulls Abby to his chest and wraps his arms around her waist. Looking down into her eyes, he can see his past and his future colliding. It makes his stomach twist, but Jack shoves aside the thought. Abby is his now. Live in the now, Jack. Don't think about tomorrow.
Chapter 4
ABBY
Jack looks down at me like he thinks he'll never see me again. I touch his cheek, gently stroking my fingers along his jaw, "What's wrong?"
He blinks hard and what I thought I saw is gone. "Nothing. I'm just overwhelmed by you sometimes. It's hard to look back and even remember my life as it was a few months ago to compare it to the way things are now. I never thought I'd marry. I never thought I'd see you again, but here you are - my beautiful wife in my arms." Jack kisses my temple and turns me toward the restaurant.
We walk in silence. There's a lump in my throat that won't go away. Jack's been like this all week. One moment he's fine - all sexy smiles and wit - and the next that haunted look is back. I wonder if I'm the cause. I have to be, right? There's a sad smile on my face as we walk, but Jack can't see it. His strides match mine. We walk together with his arm around my shoulder. His scent fills my head along with the night breeze. I want to make him forget whatever it is that's pulling at him. I want his last night alone with me to be so wonderful that it blindsides everything else, chasing all other thoughts away until tomorrow.
Thinking of tomorrow nearly puts me into a panic. Tomorrow I face my past. Tomorrow I return to Texas, to my previous life, and pick my belongings from the ashes. Tomorrow makes me feel sick. Jack seems to sense it.
He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. "I love you, Abigail."
The choking sensation flees. Jack has the ability to chase away my nightmares, even the real ones. I smile up at him. "I love you, too."
Jack pulls open the door to the main building and we walk inside. Soft music plays and other couples walk by us hand in hand. We walk to the finest restaurant in the pavilion. Jack tells me to wait a moment while he speaks to the host. I glance around. It doesn't matter how many times we've been in here, it's still amazing. The walls are dark and covered in pale blue cracked shells and sea glass. It gives the room an ethereal feel, like we're under the ocean. It's serene and perfect.
Jack returns and extends his arm to me. I take it as he leads us past the area where we usually sit on the veranda overlooking the water. The waiter leads us to the and through a short hallway to a private room that's reserved for parties. It's cut off from the rest of the diners. Jack holds my hand and leads me to the door. When the waiter opens it, I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this.
I abruptly stop. My jaw drops open and my hand presses gently to my heart. "Jack," I breathe, as my eyes take it in.
This room has the same decor as the front. Sea glass in all shades of green and blue make the walls ripple like waves. That's where the commonality stops. There is a beautifully decorated table in the center of the room with delicate linens and two golden chairs. The centerpiece glows in the middle of the table, floating in a glass bowl, and casting pale golden light. Strips of silk are strung across the ceiling, forming long drapes that surround the table. They're tied back, making it look like a little gazebo of silk. White rose petals cover the floor. The scent fills the air.
I stare at the room, trying to take it all in. It's beautiful and sensual and stunning. It's the kind of room that you might see in a magazine, but never get a chance to sit in. It's perfect.
I feel Jack's arms slip around my waist as he asks, "Do you like it?"
I nod, speechless. The entire room seems to shimmer. I nod slowly, saying, "It's like a dream."
Jack steps around me and reaches for my hand. Taking it, he says, "Come on. The honeymoon isn't over yet." Jack kicks off his shoes after he steps inside the room. I do the same. We walk across the rose petals to the table. They feel soft and cool under my feet.
Jack pulls out my chair and waits for me to sit, before pushing the chair in. He leans down and kisses my cheek, before sitting down opposite me.
I watch Jack and can't think about anything but his lips. Jack grins at me, like he knows. My toes play with the petals beneath the table as we talk. "This is so stunning. When did you plan all this?"
Jack's eyes fall to the table, and then he glances around the room. "I planned it in my free time." He winks at me with a wicked grin on his face.
"You haven't had any free time," I say, smiling at him. "It's been all Jack and Abby, all the time."
He shrugs. "I have my secrets."
"Oh, do you?" He nods, like he has many. "Ah, then, I plan to wiggle them out of you, one by one, Jack Gray." I have a playful look on my face, but Jack construes it differently.
The side of his foot brushes against my bare ankle. With a wolfish smile on his face he says, "I look forward to it. Anything that involves you wiggling sounds good to me."
I laugh and bump my foot against his under the table. I think about how great tonight is, about how wonderful Jack is, and how much tomorrow will suck. The thought pulls the smile from my face before I can stop it.
"What is it?" Jack asks me.
He's been asking me all week, but I haven't wanted to talk about it. It just makes me sad. I feel like I'm grieving someone's death when I think about my old life, but that doesn't make any sense. I'm not dead. I found what I wanted, and he's sitting right in front of me. But it doesn't matter. The feeling keeps coming back. It clings to me like a wet blanket, chilling me when I least expect it. Like now.
My lips part as I search for the words. Jack's eyes are soft. They hold mine, waiting to hear what I've been too upset to tell him. "I keep thinking about tomorrow. This is the second time that I've dreaded going home."
"I know it's hard for you, but the last time turned out pretty good. Maybe it won't be as bad as you think." Jack reaches for my hand and gently rubs his thumb along mine.
I grin at him, knowing the memory that's playing through his mind. The day I showed up in his studio, everything changed. Fate brought us back together. I should let go of the things that hurt me, but I can't. Those things are part of me somehow, in a way that I don't really understand. "I hope you're right. And you'll be there, which will be different."
Jack smiles at me. Leaning forward, he holds my hand tightly. "I will always be there for you. I'll be there tomorrow and the day after." He smiles oddly, like he just realized something.
For the life of me, I have no idea what it could be so I ask, "What?"
"I never thought about it before, but that was part of my vow to you - to love you, to protect you, to cherish you, for as long as I live." He smiles so warmly that it makes my eyes fill with tears. "Sometimes people just go through the motions. I'm not like that and I know that you aren't like that either. I'm here for you, Abby - however you need me, in every way you want me."
I take my napkin from the table and dab at my eyes. "Jack," I breathe his name like it's life itself. His words pull every heartstring I have. He had taken every fear that bounces around in this tiny brain of mine, wrapped his arms around them, and squeezed them away. I'm smiling at him and dabbing at my eyes. Jack's blue gaze is filled with affection.
Before we have a chance to say anything more, the waiter appears with the first course. It's brought on tiny plates edged in silver. I nearly laugh when I realize what's on the first dish. It's a little white triangle dusted with powdered sugar.
"PB and J?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at him, wondering what he's done. A smile inches across my face.
"Tonight is a cornucopia of Abby Gray's favorite foods." He looks at the tiny triangles on his plate. "I told them to make it look cute. How'd they do?"
I laugh, picking up the little sandwich, "Good. Very impressive, Mr. Gray. It's very thoughtful and cute." I glance at him for a moment, holding his gaze, wondering if he remembers. "Is this because of what happened that day in the cafeteria?"
Jack's eyes gleam. "I don't know what you mean." He smiles at me and I know he remembers.
"How do you remember that?" We were seventeen. Jack rushed up behind me on the lunch line. He was chattering about some girl that had turned his head, and he grabbed the last sandwich. I said nothing and took the slop they were serving as hot lunch instead. I nodded and smiled as he bounced on the balls of his feet. When we sat down at the table, he asked me to grab him a fork. I didn't understand, until I came back to the table. He'd switched our trays. He had the slop and the perfect little sandwich was in front of my seat. He always did things like that back then, but that one stuck in my mind. That infectious smile of his and his laughter from that day still echoes in my ears.
"I was madly in love with you. How could I forget?" He gives me a crooked grin and my heart soars.
"But you were talking about some girl that you wanted to nail. You never even came up for air."
He shrugs. "I was stupid. By the way, the girl I was talking about that day was you." He laughs as my eyes widen. "I made up girls here and there to see what you'd do, trying to get a reaction." He eats his little sandwich, smiling at me.
"You were talking about a girl that you wanted to sleep with..." I'm trying to remember the words he had been saying all those years ago. At the time, I wanted to rip her eyes out, and so I was only half listening. Jack watches me, slowly piecing the memory together. I stare at him with my lips pressed together. When they finally open, my jaw just flaps - words won't come.
Jack laughs. It's a deep rich sound. "That girl was you. Beautiful breasts, dazzling eyes, razor sharp wit with lips that scream to be kissed. I rambled on about you for the entire period. Damn, I was tactless." The vibrancy in his blue eyes seems to fade. Seriously, he asks, "I wasted so much time trying to tell you without saying how I felt. I can't tell you how many times I wished that I'd kissed you that night, how much I regretted my actions." There's a hollowness in his words. It's something that can never happen. We lost ten years. We'll never get them back. His life changed during that time and so did mine. Damage was done that can't be changed.
I take his hands and say, "We found each other again. That's all that matters. Most people don't get a second chance, Jack. We got lucky." Jack's head lowers as he looks at my hand. My throat tightens. I want to wrap my arms around him and never let go. Something's going through his head. I see the remorse in his eyes. This is just the tip, the edge of whatever's haunting him. He glances up and gives me a weak smile.
Just then the second round of food comes out. This course is as cute as the first. "What is this?" It looks like chocolate squares. There are three in a little white dish with a raspberry.
"A fudgesicle." I snort a laugh and nearly knock the bowl on the floor. Jack watches me and grins. "Are you insane?"
He winks at me. "Maybe." The grin that lights up his face reaches his eyes. He's remembering that night. We were at one of the dances - I don't remember which one. My date turned out to be an ass. He had happy hands, so I told him off and sat on the bleachers by myself. Jack had happy hands with Carlie Throning, but she didn't seem to mind when his hands dipped down her back. Eventually, Jack came over. He handed me a fudge pop and said something stupid. I can still hear his voice. You're too prude, Abby. Who cares if a guy grabs your ass? You have to give it up sometime and stop being such a bitch. I took the frozen pop, shoved it down his shirt, and stormed away. We didn't speak for two weeks.
He clears his throat and looks at the bowl. "Maybe it's an apology. You had a better grasp on sex at that age. I really didn't get it. And I really wanted you." He laughs as he says the last part. "You have to admit that I did a pretty good job of not grabbing your ass right then."
I laugh loudly, and slap my hands over my mouth, glancing around. I point a finger at him, like he's in trouble for an ancient thought. "I would have killed you."
"It would have been worth it."
Smiling, I shake my head. "So what did your date think when you came back covered in chocolate?"
Jack's eyes shift to the side, like he doesn't want to tell me. "Well..."
"Oh, now you have to say it. What'd she do?"
"I told her that I did some things with a fudgesicle that earned me the respect of the football team that year and added something along the lines of I'm not a one woman kind of guy." Embarrassment floods his face.
"You told your date that you had sex with a girl using a popsicle?" He nods once, his face beet red, his eyes only meeting mine when he has to. "What did she do?"
"Abby," he says, "maybe this wasn't a good course."
"Oh, my God. You had sex with her using a popsicle! Tell me you didn't." I blink at him with an incredulous smile on my face.
He shrugs and doesn't meet my gaze. "I was fucked up. I told you that I had a past, that I did things. I didn't mean for the conversation to go this way."
"Jack Gray, you have a very twisted mind." I can't stop smiling at him. I want to rip that girl's head off, but Jack is mine now. I wonder why I haven't seen any trace of his fetishes. I lick my lips, wondering what that feels like, and I shiver. Jack has a surprised look on his face. "I like it." I wink at him and the tension flows from his shoulders.
"I thought you'd be mad," he says, glancing up at me.
"We both had lives before this. I can't yell at you about stuff that happened a decade ago. However, I can ask what other weird sexual things you've done." Jack grins and looks away. Oh my God. He's holding back. I knew it. "I will find out one day. You can tell me anything, Jack."
He taps his head, smiling, and lifts his wine glass. "There are some things in here that you don't want to know."
"I think it's more like there are some things in there that are so messed up that you don't want to share." He glances up at me. Heat flashes in Jack's eyes. Bingo.
Jack picks up a frozen square and pops it in his mouth. When he notices me staring at him, he says, "Eat your dinner, Abby." That crooked grin is there, and I know this evening is just getting started.