“I have one person to explain myself to,” Jack says calmly. “Five minutes, Annie, please.” He lands me with gray eyes full of desperation. I force myself to disregard his evident despair and tell myself I’m owed an explanation. Because I am.
“Five minutes,” I confirm, glancing at Micky and Lizzy, knowing I must be as mad as they think I am. But I need to hear what he has to say. I need closure. “I’ll be fine.”
They both leave, clearly reluctant, and once we’re alone, that energy between Jack and me—the energy that frightens me—surges forward. It’s so powerful it makes me move across the room hastily to put as much distance between us as possible and, perhaps, to make the situation look as casual as possible should anyone walk in. Just two people having a chat about business in the kitchen. “Go ahead, Jack. Explain,” I say, cutting straight to the chase.
His hesitation is obvious. “Before I explain anything, you need to know that I have never cheated on my wife. Not ever, Annie. Not until you.”
I scoff, unable to force it back. “And that makes everything okay?”
“I didn’t say it makes everything okay. I just want you to know that I don’t make a habit of cheating on my wife.” He moves forward a few steps, and I hold my hand up, silently stopping him from coming any closer as I glimpse over my shoulder into the garden. His wife is chatting with Lizzy. My friend’s keeping her occupied while her husband is in here with me. I wince, swallowing down the building guilt. “Have you thought about me?” he asks.
I snap my eyes to Jack’s. “No.” Admitting it would be stupid.
“Don’t lie to me,” he warns, totally serious. “Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it.”
“What the hell does it matter now?” I hiss. “You lied to me. Where was your ring?”
He throws his hand up, showing me his ring finger. It’s still bare. “I don’t wear one. I broke a knuckle when I worked the tools and haven’t been able to get it on since.”
“Then you should have told me!” I imagine plenty of women throw themselves at him. He should have a sign on his head or something, some kind of visible warning not to go near.
“Told you?” He almost laughs. “I already said, Annie, I couldn’t. I couldn’t even think the words. I saw nothing except you. Thought of nothing except how much I wanted you. Everything else paled. All I see are your green eyes staring up into mine. All I can feel is your skin against me. Your breath in my ear.”
“Stop!” I demand, ignoring the fact that I had a similar reaction to him. But I’m single. I’m allowed to feel like that. He shouldn’t. Not when he’s taken!
“No.” He comes over to me, and I find myself quickly checking behind me again, all skittish, before looking at him. He’s too close. It’s dangerous for more reasons than his wife possibly walking in here. “I can’t stop, Annie.”
I shake my head and move away, opening a cupboard and pulling down a bag of pretzels, anything to look busy and casual. “You’re married. It ends here,” I say firmly and evenly, not allowing his words to pierce my resolve.
“Do you want it to?” he asks, knocking me back a bit.
I don’t answer nearly as quickly as I should, distracting myself with pouring the pretzels into a bowl. “Are you suggesting an affair?”
“I’m asking you if you’re curious about us.”
“There is no ‘us,’” I whisper-hiss, performing another check of our surroundings.
“What if there should be?”
I balk, astounded. “‘Should be’?”
“I’ve played tug-of-war with my conscience all week, Annie. I’ve told myself that this isn’t the right way to get out of my marriage. I’ve tried, I’ve tried so fucking hard to stop thinking about you, and then shit happens with Stephanie and I’m back to square one, obsessing over you and how you made me feel. The smiles you pulled from me. The feelings you spiked. You are clouding everything.”
Shit happens with Stephanie? I hate myself for wondering too hard what that shit is. I can’t ask. Shouldn’t ask.
“You will stay away from me.” I pivot and leave the kitchen before Jack can come back at me with anything else that may dent my determination, slapping a smile on my face as I enter the garden.
I just need tonight to be over so I can commence with the meltdown that’s undoubtedly going to floor me. He felt it, just like I did—the connection, the overwhelming chemistry. But it was just lust, stirred up and made more potent by alcohol. And spontaneity. I have to keep telling myself that. It’s the safest way. I never thought I’d see him again, that he would remain a beautiful albeit frustrating fantasy in my head. A benchmark for all men who may come after. I doubt I’ll find that crushing attraction with anyone else. I’ve been teased, experienced something incredible, only to discover I can never have it again. That I should never have had it in the first place. Denying yourself is one thing. Being denied by something out of your control is a whole new ballgame. It just makes you want it more.
I watch as Stephanie chats with Colin, and Jack stands silent at her side, obviously distracted. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop my eyes from straying to him. Every time I catch his gaze, I quickly glance away, pushing down my thumping heart as it works its way up to my throat. I fight to keep myself in conversations, but I’m too unfocused, seeing mouths move but hearing no words being spoken. My head is full of reminders. Of things Jack said to me. Of the way he touched me and made love to me.
I discreetly glance over to him again, but this time his attention is on his wife as she speaks to him. Colin raises his hands, like in surrender, and backs away from the couple warily, making his way over to me. Stephanie looks a little mad, and though I try my hardest to lip-read her, I can’t make out what she’s saying to her husband. Her husband. Jack. Stephanie’s husband.
“It’s kicked off over there,” Colin laughs, a little tipsy as he reaches me.
“What has?” I ask, playing ignorant, keeping one eye on him and one eye on Jack.
“Jack is a diamond of a bloke, but it seems the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?” I ask, frowning as I watch Stephanie’s face get closer to Jack’s and he retreats a little, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He’s gathering patience.
“Well,” Colin starts. “I’ve only met the woman tonight, but I can see what people mean. She’s a bit…of a handful.”
Handful? I can’t rip my eyes away. Jack is clearly trying to keep whatever’s got Stephanie irked on the down low, leaning in to speak to her and placing a comforting hand on her arm. My eyes root to that hand, feeling it touching me all over again. What is wrong with her? Is she suspicious? Has she sensed the friction between Jack and me?
My eyes jump between them, trying desperately to figure out what’s going on. Jack catches my eye, and he breathes in deeply as Stephanie shrugs him off and throws her wine back on a sneer. She marches off to top up her glass, and I find myself stuck in position, wanting to move away but unable. I start to shake, fearful of the lack of control I have over my body where Jack’s concerned. And, worse, my mind.