“I was thinking of taking you somewhere, actually.” He reaches up to my face and traces the line of a cut on my cheek. “But I don’t want you pushing yourself.”
“I feel so much better.” I need to get out and try to pick up something close to normal instead of lying here with nothing to do other than relive that awful day. This isn’t healthy for Jack, either, being my nursemaid twenty-four-seven. He needs to get out, too.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says, bending over my reclined body and coming in close to my face.
“What?” I’ll do anything.
“I’ll take you out somewhere if you…” His words fade, his eyes flicking past me fleetingly.
“If I what?”
“If you agree to move in with me.”
I recoil. I don’t mean to. We haven’t spoken about this. Or anything, for that matter. Since I was discharged from hospital, all of our efforts have gone into my recovery, and we’ve both seemed content doing that. I didn’t want to go over and over the horrid events that put me in hospital and snatched away our unborn child. Jack’s been here at my apartment the whole time, and I didn’t question it. Move in with him? Where? His home has been empty, since he’s here and his wife has been locked up. And I know he never wants to step foot in the place again. My apartment is small.
“Maybe we could buy somewhere,” he goes on, sensing that I’m spinning off endless silent questions, and maybe knowing what they are. “I can’t sell my place just yet, until we know what’s happening with…” He trails off again. There’s been no mention of her name and I doubt there ever will be. Jack’s filed for divorce and has left the complicated logistics of it in the hands of his solicitor. “I want somewhere with you. Away from here. Somewhere to call ours.”
“Ours?” I ask, liking the sound of that.
“Just ours.”
“Just ours,” I parrot, struggling for what else to say. Somewhere that is just ours.
“A fresh start. Me and you.” He takes my wrist and fingers my bracelet, prompting me to look down at it. “If you want me.”
Another small piece of my shattered heart drops into place. I add my fingers to his and join him in playing with the precious charms. The dynamics of our relationship have been forced to change. Before, when we were only able to see each other in stolen moments of time, our clothes were usually ripped off within seconds, both of us ravenous with hunger for each other, our time together spent losing ourselves in our private bubble of happiness. Now, when we’re spending every second of the day with each other and I’m laid up, our time is spent…just being. Loving. Supporting. Healing each other as best we know how while being physically unable to take each other into a mind-numbing haze of pleasure that’s got us through so many months. But it’s still pleasurable. Through the grief I’ve been dealing with, being with Jack is still beyond fulfilling. And if anything, it’s only strengthened our love. He’s seen me at my weakest. I’ve seen him at his. Yet together we’re probably stronger than ever. I look up at him, letting my lips tip a little at the corner. “You were always mine, even before I knew it.”
He nods, combing his fingers through my hair. “I’m just so sorry that—”
I take his nape and pull him closer, our lips nearly touching. “I’ll be okay,” I say, cutting him off. “I have you, so I know I’ll be okay.” I’m mindful that my hurt could eat him alive if I let it. I mustn’t let it.
“I’ve put you through so much,” he whispers.
“I put myself through it,” I point out. This isn’t just his doing. I accepted the repercussions the moment I knowingly got caught up in a web of lies and deceit with a married man. I just didn’t anticipate the extent of the pain and heartache we would go through. I didn’t anticipate Stephanie.
His lip curves a little. “I didn’t exactly give you much choice, did I?”
“You mean when you relentlessly tempted me with your gorgeousness?”
He closes the space between our mouths and kisses me carefully. “I knew I was supposed to find you drunk in that bar that night.”
“I wasn’t drunk.”
“Of course you weren’t.” He smiles against my mouth. “Want some help in the shower?”
I nod against him and let him help me up from the couch, making myself keep the slight discomfort quiet so he can’t withdraw from his end of the deal.
“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” he muses as he holds my waist, walking behind me and matching my sluggish pace.
“I’m fine,” I retort, my face screwing up a little when an unexpected shot of pain bolts through my thigh. I’m still limping slightly, but I’m pretty sure that’s simply because of my lack of regular movement. My muscles and bones are just objecting any time I move because they’re used to feeling redundant.
Jack guides me into the bathroom and flicks on the shower. I hate myself for it, but I have to sit on the toilet seat while he starts collecting towels. I’m exhausted from that short, leisurely stroll from one end of my apartment to the other. He doesn’t miss my movement, raising knowing eyebrows at me that I choose to ignore, as I start to remove my T-shirt. I lose sight of him when I pull it over my head, and when I win the sight of him back, he’s removed his own T-shirt. I smile at his abs, his chest, his downright stunning torso. And I sigh.
I drop my T-shirt to the floor as Jack unfastens his jeans. Slowly. Then pushes them down his thick thighs. Slowly. He’s purposeful and means to be. Things happen between my legs that haven’t happened for a long while.
“I’ll wash you down.” His jeans hit the floor. “Up for it?”
I fly up from the toilet seat. And yelp. “Fuck!” I drop back down and grab the sink, breathing through the pain.
“Annie!” Jack’s kneeling before me in the blink of an eye, assessing my condition. “Take it easy.”
My cheeks puff out as I exhale, looking up at him. “Ouch,” I murmur pitifully.
“Okay. No outing. It’s too soon. And no joint shower.”
I growl and grab his hair, yanking him forward threateningly. “You’re coming in!” I hiss. “And then you’re taking me out.”
“Fuck, Annie!” He chuckles as he reaches up to pry my clawed fingers away. “Okay, okay.”
“Good.” I go back to breathing, cool and controlled. “Sorry for being so insistent.”
Jack laughs, a proper belly laugh. It’s like music to my ears. “I look forward to a lifetime of insistence, gorgeous.” He rises before me, offering his hand. “Ready?”
I take his hand and let him gently ease me up and strip me of my shorts, knickers, and bra before directing me patiently to the shower. “What do you expect when you brandish that body, anyway?” I ask, hearing him chuckle. “And look at me like that. And speak to me in that tone. And say those things.”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He gently turns me at the shower bench and helps me down. “And keep my clothes on,” he adds.
“You don’t have to do that,” I object. That would be a travesty.