Chapter 7
JACK
Abby snuggles against his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt. Every inch of his body reacts to her, even after all they've just done. There's a warm feeling in the center of his chest as he cradles Abby in his arms. Days like this are too few. He kisses the top of her head and tightens his grip around his wife.
"Thank you," Jack says softly, smoothing the hair on the top of her head. The touch is gentle. Jack has so much adoration building inside of him that he isn't sure how to let her know. He wants to hold her tight and hug her hard, but that seems like it could never be enough. There's no way to say how he feels. Abby was right. She's his soul mate. She makes him feel things that no other person could even fathom. Their connection is deeper than even Jack understands.
"You don't have to thank me, Jack," Abby answers with a funny smile tugging at her lips. She tilts her head back so she can see his face.
Should I tell her? Jack's eyes flick to the door and then back to Abby. The motion makes her tense and look over his shoulder. Jack kisses her forehead and explains, "Yes, I do. This was something I wanted. I know you like to keep things private, but when I saw this room I knew, I had to have you in here. You didn't have to say yes."
She snuggles deeper into his shirt when she hears his answer. Her cheeks have a faint blush. Damn she feels good. "I want to give you what you want," Abby replies. "I feel like you're holding back from me sometimes. Like you're afraid you'll break me or something."
"Fair enough. I won't hold back, but you can't either." Shocked, Abby looks up at him. Jack says, "Tell me your fantasies, tell me what you want - "
"Jack, I don't have any fantasies." Abby seems shy about it. Her gaze falls away from his.
"Call them what you want, but I know you have sexy thoughts floating around in that head of yours. Aren't you the one who covered yourself in paint, practically dancing for me?" That night is burned into Jack's memory vividly. Abby standing before him in that lacy white panty set, and then she smeared red paint across her chest. He can still see it. It was something he never thought she'd do.
She smiles. "Yes."
"Aren't you the one who pulled me onto the canvas with you? Was the painting we made while having sex - the one that's hanging over our bed - my idea?" The corners of his mouth tug up as he says it. It's too big for the cottage, but Jack wanted to keep it for himself. It reminds him how lucky he is to have her.
Abby nods shyly, "Yes, but - "
"But nothing," he says, cutting her off. Jack takes Abby's chin in his hand and tilts her head back so he can see her eyes. They sparkle bright green. "I want to give you everything you want, everything you need. Promise me you won't hold back as you figure out the things you like, the things you want to try with me."
She nods shyly and nuzzles into his chest again. His arms wrap around her tightly. Jack can't believe how Abby can be so sexual one moment and so shy the next. It's like there's a stripper living inside of her. It's amazing how fast she's changed, and at the same time, that worries him. Jack stares blankly as he thinks about it, but his mind is still too foggy to process the thoughts. He glances down at Abby when she starts to wiggle out of his lap. "Where are you going, Mrs. Gray?" Jack pulls her back against him, making her smile.
"I should get dressed. If the waiter comes back, I'll die." She glances toward the door and tries to slip away again. Jack holds onto her tighter.
"He's not coming back." Abby looks up at him, confused. Ah, fuck. He didn't want Abby to feel uncomfortable, but when she agreed to have him here, in this room, there wasn't a chance to tell her. Jack smiles at her, playing with the curls that hang over her bare shoulders. "I told him to go and lock the doors on the way out. The room is ours for as long as we'd like to use it. No one will interrupt us."
Her jaw drops as Jack's speaking, "But, I thought - "
"I know," Jack says, his smile spreading across his face as he speaks. He can't help it. "You thought we weren't alone. You thought the waiter could come back or other people could walk into the room, and yet you did this for me without any hesitation. You trust me, Abby. I'll take care of you. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. Ever." He kisses her temple. "I was going to tell you, but then things kind of got away from me, and - "
Abby's eyes are locked with his, drinking him in like she could never get enough. Before he can finish speaking, Abby grips his shirt in her hand and pulls him down hard on her mouth. She kisses him for a moment. When she comes up for air, she's grinning. "You did that, for me?" Jack nods.
Abby continues to gaze into his eyes. He can't tell what she's thinking until she stands and repositions herself on his lap, straddling him. She leans in and kisses the spot between his shoulder and his neck. Jack sighs as his body responds to her touch. A million sparks fly through him, igniting his love for her. This time, her inhibitions lessen even more. When she knows they're alone, Abby acts how she feels with such confidence that it's impossible to control his lust. Then Abby loves him again, until they're both so spent that they can barely stand.
Chapter 8
ABBY
Twenty-four hours later, I have emotional whiplash. The plane connected through Dallas so that I can arrange to have my belongings moved to Jack's cottage. I hardly have anything. I'm twisting my hands nervously as we head from our hotel to the church. One of the council members will be there to let me in.
"I hate this part," I say. Jack places his hand over mine.
"I know, baby." His voice is soothing, but it doesn't release the fear that's strangling me.
"Jack, they nearly destroyed me. I don't know if I can do this." I stare out the window, feeling dread climbing up my throat. I thought I was a strong person, but after what happened to me down here, I don't think that anymore. I did what I thought was right, but nothing worked out that way. It made me question everything. In the very depths of my soul, I don't know what I believe anymore. There's a disconnect between my faith and my life. Nothing worked out the way it should have, except Jack. I thank God for him, and that we found each other in this mess.
Jack takes my hand and holds it tightly. "It'll only be a few minutes. The movers will arrive and we can leave." I nod. My heart is thumping inside my chest like a flat tire. I'm shaking. Jack rubs my hand and says, "You can do this, Abby. You're stronger now."
I smile nervously. I want to believe him. The car stops in the church parking lot and we get out. Jack tells the driver to wait even though we'll be a little bit. Nerves inch up my spine like icy fingers with each step I take towards the building. I'd blot out this part of my past, if I could.
We're to meet with Dick Bennit, the council member who rallied against me, in the church office - my old office. I lead Jack through the quiet church, passing the chapel, and head toward the offices. My throat tightens as my pulse races faster. I don't want to be here. I don't want to see him. I don't trust myself. I'll either break down and cry; or scream in his face. I'm not sure which would be worse.
Jack glances at me out of the corner of his eye. He looks around, at the white walls and ugly brown trim. His eyes scan the bulletin board, littered with lists and announcements. When we stop at the office, he grips my hand hard.
I nod and knock on my old door. A deep voice booms, "Come."
Dick is a man who loves power. This whole thing is probably the highlight of his day. I push open the door, but barely step over the threshold. My nerves make me look mad. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bennit."
"Abigail," he says, smiling like there is nothing sour between us. The man is in his sixties with silver hair. He towers over me, and is wearing a plastic smile, like he's pleased to see me.
Ignoring all the arguments that pool in my mind, I say coolly, "The movers will be here in a moment. Please open the parsonage." The bastard had changed the locks after I left, like the church thought I'd steal something.
Bennit's eyes shift to Jack. He stands and extends a hand to me from behind my old desk. "Manners, Abigail, dear. Introduce the man who stole you away from us. I'm Dick Bennit."
Jack reaches forward and grips his hand hard. Suddenly the air feels a lot more tense. "Jack Gray."
I hate the way he speaks to me. Everything is always shrewd manipulation with this guy. Whatever tumbles out of his mouth sounds kind, but his words are barbed. They pierce me and make me bristle.
"Let's not pretend that things are fine between us, Dick. You threw me out. I know it was you that caused all the problems and twisted the Board into thinking a year in the desert was a good idea. I'm here to get my things."
Dick usually doesn't let me push him around, but this time is different. He reaches into a drawer and dangles the keys over the desk. "Here Abby, sweetheart. I know you're upset with me, but in time, that will pass. You'll see that this was God's plan for you and we were merely the means." He's smiling at me with righteous indignation.
I smile back and take the keys. "Come on, Jack."
Jack and Dick nod at each other, but their stance says something else. It's like Dick is daring Jack to talk. I walk away quickly and fly across the lawn to the house. When I walk inside, I look around. My things are gone. I hardly left anything behind, but I did leave some stuff. I run up the stairs to the bedroom, looking for my linens and books. They're gone. I rush to the closet, the bathroom, the attic - there's nothing here. Fuming, I come back downstairs and see Dick standing next to Jack. Jack's arms are folded over his chest. He's burning a hole through the floor with his eyes. Dick has that look on his face, the smug one that he has when he knows he's inflicting damage. I catch the tail end of his words.
"...her full potential. You'll have to live with that." Dick glances up at me on the staircase. "We already boxed your things. They're in the kitchen. The movers should use the back door so they don't soil the carpets. We just had them cleaned." He gives me a poignant look and walks away.
Jack has a strange look on his face. I ask, "What did he say to you?"
Jack shakes his head, "Nothing worth repeating, Abby." He steps away from me and looks around the little house. "I can picture you here." My anger melts and I smile at him. My life would have been so different if he had been here back then. Jack points at the corner with the fireplace. "I bet you used to sit there with a book, reading in front of the firelight, even if it were insanely hot outside." He grins at me.
"You know, I did." I look around and the smile slips off my face. This is a shadow of my old life, a life that's gone. It feels like a piece of me has died and I don't know how to reconcile it. "Come on, let's see what they did with my stuff." I walk into the kitchen and sure enough, all my things are piled by the backdoor.
Jack puts his arms around me and leans in close. He kisses my cheek and says, "I don't pretend to know how heartbroken you are about this, Abby, but something good came from it. It brought you back to me." An orange moving truck pulls up. Jack releases me and goes to flag them down.
Worry pinches my stomach, making me feel sick. My life shifted when I left this place. I wish I could forget it and wipe my mind clean.
Jack arranges everything with the movers and we leave. My back is rigid as we ride in the cab. Jack seems tense, as well. Something changed when we stepped into that house - I don't know what it was, but I know it can't be turned back.
Chapter 9
JACK
After making sure Abby's things got put onto the truck, Jack felt spent. He could feel the energy being sucked out of Abby while they were there. Everything made her melancholy, like she was mourning something she couldn't have possibly fixed. Hearts made of stone don't bend, they crack when pushed too far.
Jack falls into silence, thinking. He saw how his wife's face lit up in that little house. There's an entire part of her that he doesn't know. It had been the driving force in her life, and he has no idea about any of it. Jack isn't faithless, but he isn't like her. Abby has a kindness to her that makes her vulnerable. She shares her heart in full, not holding back, knowing damn well that the people around her could crush it. She does it anyway, which makes her amazing.
The flight to New York seems to take forever. Jack holds Abby's hand as she drifts off to sleep against his shoulder. When the flight attendant comes by to offer food and drinks, Jack shakes his head. He doesn't want to wake her. Abby seems to sleep so little. Something keeps waking her at night. She thinks he doesn't notice, but he does. Once, she sat straight up and clutched her heart, gasping so loud that it sounded like a muffled scream. Jack didn't understand what could have done that to her, but he knows she's shattered - broken to some extent. He wants to take her home and let her heal. Given the time, he thinks she will. Bringing her to Texas just opened all those wounds again. Jack kisses the top of her head.
That man that caused Abby to be forced out was a piece of work. He honed in on a weak spot and attacked with a genuine smile on his face, like he enjoyed it. The things he said to Jack while Abby was upstairs were familiar. They were the same fears that have been festering in his mind. The bastard put them in words and didn't hold back. Jack's stomach nearly pitched then and there, but he refused to react. Glancing over at Abby, Jack wondered if they could defy the odds, if lovers this messed up could endure forever. He'd never stop loving her, but Jack can't help but worry about messing things up. Especially with the mess waiting at home. The thing he wanted to give her the most was nearly impossible to get - more time.