Elle approached him and stood next to him. “So you do read my e-mails,” she whispered, her gaze never leaving the priest. “You’re just too rude to answer them.”
She didn’t need a response from him, because one, she knew he was that rude and two, there was no doubt he’d read her e-mails. And thank God for that; otherwise Max and Annie wouldn’t be here getting married, and their story would have ended very differently. Just the thought of it made her sick.
“Quiet, pet,” he answered back. She couldn’t see it, but she felt his smile in his voice.
Pet. How she got that demeaning and patronizing nickname from him, she had no clue. He’d barely talked to her the entire time they’d known each other; just grunts and scowls. Then James had gotten hurt last summer and had been admitted to the hospital, scaring the living shit out of everyone, her included. When Elle had tried to leave in order to go open Rosita’s, Jack had blocked the door, snatched the car keys away from her, and not only forbade her to drive but called her pet. Worse still, when she replied that she didn’t recall giving him permission to call her pet, the asshole dared to say “I don’t recall giving you permission to talk at all, pet” with that frigging arrogant tone of his, the one that gave her those embarrassing shivers. Modern women shouldn’t get shivers at being ordered around in that tone. So politically incorrect, dammit.
And the asshole was immune to her. She got her way with everyone but him, who aggravated the living hell out of her by ignoring her. And the more he ignored her, the more she felt like pissing him off. A vicious, rather enjoyable circle.
She stood by his side, their hands brushing during the service, feeling the tension rolling off him. The darkness too. He was in a bad place. Not caring that he might rebuff her, she slid her hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. He needed that, whether he would admit it or not. He froze for a second, and to her surprise, when she tried to end the embrace, he didn’t let her, holding her hand tighter.
They didn’t exchange a word during the ceremony. Elle didn’t move a hair, afraid it would break the spell and Jack would remember he was a badass, in no need whatsoever of comfort. He was a badass, true, but whatever he was involved in was eating at him. He was tense and grim. Worn out, although he was standing stoically and would probably rather die than admit it. He needed the comfort, the human touch, even if it was just a small gesture, and damn if she wasn’t going to give it to him.
After Max and Annie were presented as husband and wife, everyone rushed to congratulate them.
Jack released his grip on her, and Elle moved to kiss the newlyweds.
When she turned around, Jack had already disappeared.
Chapter One
One and a half months later, Alden
Jack adjusted his tie, feeling uncomfortable as all fuck. The service at the chapel had been bad, but the mingling and the chitchatting at the reception was much worse. That it was a very informal one, barbecue-style, at James’s, didn’t make matters better. The other way around, actually. It made them chattier. He’d rather eat glass.
He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.
“What have I ever done to you to deserve this?” Jack muttered to James.
He hadn’t been back in the States forty-eight hours and he was already in Alden, neck-deep in babies, parties, and marital bliss. Under normal circumstances, this family fest would have been hard. In his present state, it was unbearable. He was still too raw inside. All he wanted was to be alone, drink himself unconscious, and zonk out for at least a week.
“Come on, man. You know I love you,” James said, laughing.
“Thank God. I don’t want to know what you would do to me if you hated me.”
Being back among normal people doing normal stuff was fucking hard. Not life-affirming. Just uncomfortable and pointless. Making him feel disconnected and more of an outsider. The small talk, the smiles. His stomach roiled at it all, but James was a persistent son of a bitch who had refused to see reason.
“You could have declined to be my son’s godfather.”
“And I would have if you’d told me who the godmother was,” Jack grumbled.
James chuckled. “No, you wouldn’t.”
True. Refusing wouldn’t have been an option for Jack. Whatever James would ask of him, he would do, no questions asked. And the motherfucker knew it.
“And I didn’t lie to you about the godmother,” James continued with a smirk. “You never asked. You must be losing your touch.”
True again. It was all this happy-happy, love-is-in-the-air, pink-marshmallow gooeyness around Jack that was melting his brain.
Alden and the Bowens were bad for his mental health.
“I told you I wasn’t up for this.”
“And that’s exactly why you need to be here,” James stated. “You need to be reminded of the good things in life. Get a haircut. Shave and go get laid.”
“Whatever.” Like it was that easy to unplug. He’d scrubbed himself bloody, but the stench of misery still stuck to him. It was difficult to wash away.