Lucky Stars

by Kristen Ashley

  Jack was taken off-guard. He thought Jensen was there because of the accident but apparently he didn’t know. Jack also couldn’t imagine why Jensen was glaring at him with murder in his eyes as if Jack himself had shoved Belle down the stairs.

  He had no time to come to terms with either of these thoughts.

  Belle’s face had grown pale and Jack bit back a curse before suggesting to Jensen, “Perhaps you and I can have word in the living room.”

  “Yeah, we’ll have a fuckin’ word. We might have two,” Jensen ground out and his gaze swung back to his daughter as his hand curled around the side of her head, his thumb under the cut. “I mean, what the fuck?”

  “Dad –” Belle whispered, her body swaying toward her father and her hand came up to his, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “I’m okay.”

  “Girl, you’ve got a head wound,” Jensen returned.

  “I’m okay,” she repeated softly.

  But Jensen was not appeased. His hand dropped but twisted and Jack watched him catch Belle’s hand and give it a squeeze. All the while his eyes were on Jack and Jack noted he didn’t look happy.

  “Get your Dad a cup of joe, girl. Your man and I are gonna have words,” Jensen said without taking his gaze from Jack.

  “I think –” Belle started but Jack moved to Belle’s side and curved his arm around her waist, bringing her close and kissing her temple above the cut.

  Then his mouth moved to her ear and he said gently, “Belle, love, show your father the living room and then, please, make some coffee.”

  “But –”

  Jack gave her waist a squeeze. “Please.”

  Her eyes searching his, she took in a breath, wet her lips and finally nodded.

  She turned to her father and invited, “Come on, Daddy.”

  As Belle took her father to the living room, Jack went to the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and then walked into the living room where Jensen Abbot was staring out the window.

  Belle’s father’s eyes came to Jack the minute he entered the room and he watched Jack close the door.

  The door barely clicked in its frame when Jensen demanded, “Don’t make me wait, man.”

  Jack turned and crossed his arms on his chest.

  “Three and a half weeks ago, at my home, Belle fell down the stairs.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Jensen bit out then his eyes narrowed. “How?”

  “Pardon?” Jack asked.

  “My girl ain’t clumsy. How’d she fall down the fuckin’ stairs?”

  This was, Jack thought, a fucking good question.

  One he had not thought to ask as he’d been preoccupied with seeing to Belle and dealing with losing his child.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken of it,” Jack answered.

  “Well, when she gets in with the coffee, we’ll be fuckin’ speakin’ of it,” Jensen threatened and Jack walked toward him.

  The way Jack did it, Jensen rightly pulled himself up to his full height.

  “You won’t mention it,” Jack declared.

  “What the –”

  “I wasn’t there,” Jack explained away what he had the uncomfortable feeling was Jensen’s implication that Belle didn’t fall down the stairs but that Jack had some hand in her injury. “I was flying from London to Cornwall at the time. No one witnessed it. She was found unconscious at the foot of the stairs.”

  Jensen relaxed a bit and asked in a less hostile tone, “Did she trip?”

  “I don’t know but you won’t mention it,” Jack stated inflexibly.

  The hostility was back when Jensen asked, “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because she was pregnant when she fell and she’s not pregnant now.” Jack watched the blood drain from Belle’s father’s face and he softened his tone when he went on, “She’s not handling the loss of our child well, Jensen, and I need you to handle her with care.”

  Jensen’s eyes grew wide. “Your child?”

  “Our child, yes,” Jack replied.

  He looked away and pulled a hand through his hair.

  Jack thought upon meeting him that he, like Rachel, looked years younger than he must be.

  At that moment, he looked old enough to be Belle’s grandfather.

  “Bellerina,” he whispered to the floor and Jack thought even his voice sounded old when he looked at Jack and said bizarrely, “I really need to get me one of them cell phones. Rachel’s probably been frantic tryin’ to get a hold of me.”

  Knowing, from what Belle told him, that Jensen Abbot was an American nomad, no home, travelling from city to city taking on whatever “gig” (Belle’s word) he could find, as a musician (he played piano) or a dealer (he dealt blackjack) or anything else that came up, Jack reckoned that Jensen was not wrong. It was likely Rachel had been frantically trying to reach him.

  “You’re here now,” Jack replied and Jensen nodded.

  Then Jensen went still and said, “Handle her with care?”

  Jack felt his jaw grow hard but he tried to keep his voice soft when he replied, “I meant no disrespect. What I meant –”

  Jensen visibly relaxed and his grin spread right before he cut in and assured, “I know what you meant, man, and I know it wasn’t disrespect.” He clapped Jack on the shoulder stoutly and his grin widened into a smile. “Glad to see my girl’s got herself a good man. ‘Handle her with care’,” he muttered. “I like that, I should write a song about that.” Then he looked around Jack toward the door and shouted, “Girl, where’s my coffee!”

  Jack had no chance to say another word as Jensen rounded him and marched to the door.

  However he had a feeling his Sunday with Belle was no longer just his.

  And he was right.

  * * * * *

  “Jenny!” Rachel shouted as she flew through the enormous entrance hall of The Point and threw herself in Jensen’s arms.

  Belle and Jack followed Jensen inside, Gretl and Baron trotting in with them heading straight toward the kitchen and food.

  Jack watched as his mother, Lila, Yasmin and a big, strange, white-haired man wearing a kilt and a dark-haired woman wearing an effusive number of scarves and silver jewellery wandered in behind Rachel.

  Then his eyes swung to Jensen and Rachel and he saw, to his shock, they were shamelessly necking in the entrance hall.

  Shamelessly and passionately.

  And, after this went on for a while, Jack realised they were necking shamelessly, passionately and, apparently, tirelessly.

  For the first time in three and a half weeks, Jack found himself chuckling.

  When he did, Belle’s head twisted sharply to face him, her eyes narrowed and his chuckle became laughter.

  Then she looked back to her mother and cried, “Mom!”

  Rachel, slowly (very slowly), realised she had an audience and she broke from her lip lock with Jensen but she didn’t move away.

  Cuddling Jensen, her fingers playing with the collar of his jacket, her head resting on his shoulder, she looked at her daughter, a smile on her face and muttered, “Sorry honeypot.”

  “I’m not sorry,” Jensen grinned unrepentant at his daughter, his arm around Rachel. “It’s been too long, little girl.”

  Belle made a frustrated noise and Jack’s arm, already around her shoulders, curled and he pulled her into his side.

  “Oops!” Rachel all of a sudden uttered and looked up at Jensen. “Jenny, we’re not allowed to embarrass Bellerina.”

  Jensen looked down at Rachel but his eyebrows went up, “Says who?”

  “Says Jack,” Rachel replied. “He’s kind of protective of Belle and he’s forbidden it.”

  “Yeah,” Jensen was still grinning. “I got that impression right off.”

  “Really?” Rachel asked curiously, twisting so her front was plastered against Jensen’s and her arms went around his waist. “What happened?”

  “I’m sure we’d all like to know but perhaps you two can cotton onto the fact that there are other b
eings in the universe so that everyone can meet Jensen,” Lila broke in and Jack chuckled again.

  “This isn’t funny,” Belle whispered at his side and he looked down at her.

  “Poppet, you’re wrong,” Jack whispered back, a grin on his face and it didn’t leave even when he bent his head to touch his grinning lips to her pursed ones.

  Introductions were made including Jack meeting Angus and Cassandra. Then they moved, everyone settled in the morning room and Joy ran out to see to refreshments.

  “How you getting on, lass?” Angus boomed gently when they were all seated.

  His question was for Belle but strangely his eyes were on Jack.

  As were Cassandra’s.

  “I’m okay, Angus,” Belle answered, busy with pressing the hem of her skirt over her knees, her head bent and she didn’t notice Angus wasn’t looking at her.

  “You?” Angus barked at Jack and Jack inclined his head.

  Angus was studying him intently and Jack didn’t like it.

  Jack had no way of saying anything, not in company, so he held the Scotsman stare and he didn’t laugh when Jensen declared, “It’s all going to be okay now ‘cause I’m here.”

  Belle’s head came up and she smiled at her father.

  “Oh lordy,” Rachel muttered. She was cuddling so closely with Jensen in the corner of the couch opposite Jack and Belle that she was nearly in his lap. Then her eyes came to Jack and she said, “I hope this place is fortified. Jensen can be a bit wild.”

  Jack opened his mouth to speak but Jensen beat him to it.

  “That gives me an idea! Let’s have a party!”

  “Jenny, we’re not having a party,” Lila decreed.

  “Woman, we’re havin’ a party.” His gaze swung to Jack and he attempted to enlist reinforcements. “Jack, my man, you agree we could use a party, doncha?”

  “I’m not sure we’re ready for a party,” Jack replied and Jensen’s brows drew together.

  Then he informed Jack, “Dude, when things get heavy, a party’s the only way to go.”

  “Daddy,” Belle said quietly, “I’m not really in the mood for a party.”

  Jensen’s gaze went to his daughter, his brow unfurrowed, his eyes went soft and he gave in immediately, “All right, baby. No party.”

  At that moment, Jack decided he liked Jensen Abbot.

  Rachel popped out of her chair and pulled Jensen up with her then she wrapped her arms around his waist and suggested, “How about a one-on-one party, you and me, right now?”

  “Oh my goodness gracious,” Belle whispered.

  “Now you’re talkin’!” Jensen shouted.

  “Holy heck,” Belle breathed.

  “We’ll be back in an hour,” Rachel told the congregation with no embarrassment whatsoever and she led Jensen out of the room.

  “More like twelve,” Lila muttered under her breath then called after the departing pair, “See you at breakfast!”

  They heard Rachel’s giggle and Jensen’s laugh as Joy rushed back in.

  “What’d I miss?” Jack’s mother asked excitedly.

  “Well, we’re not having a party and, apparently, Jensen and Rachel are off for a twelve hour sex-a-thon,” Yasmin answered. “Other than that, you didn’t miss much.”

  “Ah,” Joy sat in the corner of the couch Jensen and Rachel just vacated and went on dreamily, “Young love.”

  “Joy, they’re both fifty-five years old,” Lila told her.

  Joy looked at Belle, winked and amended, “Ah, young-at-heart love.”

  Belle smiled at his mother and Jack realised as his chest squeezed in a mixture of pain and pleasure, he hadn’t seen her smile at all since the accident but today, with her father’s unexpected appearance, she’d smiled several times

  It was then Jack thought that perhaps he should have let Jensen have his party.

  Suddenly Angus stood up and demanded, “Bennett, a word.”

  Belle went tight at his side and Jack tipped his head back to look at the Scot.

  “Is it necessary you have your word now?” Jack asked calmly.

  “It was necessary I have it three weeks ago. But now’s going to have to do,” Angus shot back.

  Belle’s tight body got tighter and Jack felt his jaw follow suit.

  “Is something wrong?” Belle asked.

  Angus’s face softened when he looked down at Belle. “Nothing’s wrong, lass.”

  “But –”

  “Just want a word with your man,” Angus went on.

  Jack felt her body get as tight as it was that morning when it felt like it would shatter at the slightest movement before she asked, “Is it about the third ghost?”

  “Let’s not worry about ghosts for now, shall we?” Joy said hurriedly and Jack’s gaze cut to his mother.

  She knew something, something that concerned her greatly, a reaction she was trying to hide.

  Jack instantly made his decision.

  He gave Belle a squeeze and a kiss on the side of her head before he said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Belle’s eyes never left him as he stood, her expression was anxious and her cheeks had lost the healthy glow her father’s visit had returned there and were again pale.

  He leaned over her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and he pressed a kiss against her lips then whispered, “I’ll only be a minute, poppet.”

  “Okay,” she whispered back.

  His eyes sliced to Angus then he led the way to his study.

  He closed the door and saw Angus standing, legs planted wide, arms crossed on his barrel chest when Jack turned to the room.

  “You got whisky?” Angus asked.

  “It’s ten thirty,” Jack replied. “Can you wait until an appropriate hour to have a drink?”

  “It’s not for me, lad, it’s for you.”

  Jack did not think that boded well.

  “Speak fast, McPherson, I need to get back to Belle.”

  “What you need to do, Bennett, is to quit molly-coddling her. She’ll find her way.”

  Jack’s patience, not exactly in a healthy state, instantly frayed at this man he did not know in the slightest having the gall to tell him what to do.

  Therefore his voice was low and obviously angry when he replied, “I met you fifteen minutes ago and you barely know Belle. Don’t think –”

  Angus cut him off by saying, “My wife was with child when she was knocked over by a car.”

  Jack felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, hard, thus he made no reply.

  Angus continued, “My wife survived. My child did no’.”

  Jack clenched his teeth and he still made no reply.

  Angus went on, “I molly-coddled her, like you’re doing. I did it for months. I lost her those months and I feared she’d no’ come back to me. I eventually had to take a job and when I did, she had to be responsible for herself. When I got back, she was better. I took the hint and tried to be normal.” Angus strode forward, stopped two feet away and put his big hand on Jack’s shoulder. “The grieving process is the same for everyone, lad. You’re doing Belle no favours by no’ helping her move to the next stage. The time has come and gone for molly-coddling. It’s time now for normal.”

  For some reason, Jack found himself sharing, “We’re moving back to The Point today.”

  Angus smiled a crooked, highly demented smile that made Jack question his sanity even after Angus just displayed he had a grip on it. “That’s good news, lad. Good news.”

  Jack was finished and therefore asked, “Are we done?”

  Angus dropped his hand. “’Fraid no’.”

  “Finish it,” Jack demanded.

  Angus took a step back and asked, “You sure you don’t want that whisky?” When he caught Jack’s hard look he hurried on, “Cass and I been working while all this was going on.”

  Jack stared at the man before informing him, “You should know I’ve never seen Myrtle and Lewis and I don’t believe they exist. I’
m humouring Belle, my mother and Belle’s family. I have little interest in this.”

  “You might change your mind when you learn Belle is Brenna Addison Bennett reincarnated,” Angus replied.

  Yes, Jack decided, Angus McPherson was definitely mad.

  And Jack didn’t relish the idea of a madman living in his home with his family.

  Therefore, Jack’s voice was ominously quiet when he asked, “Pardon?”

  “Belle’s Brenna reincarnated. Cass hasn’t had a chance to confirm if you’re Joshua but we’re guessing you are.”

  “That’s absurd,” Jack bit out.

  “It’s the truth,” Angus shot back.

  Jack crossed his arms on his chest and he scowled at the Scot.

  “Cass felt it the minute she touched Belle,” Angus stated. “Seeing as so much was going on, you didn’t shake her hand when you met her. To confirm it, she needs to touch you.”

  “Perhaps I should be more clear,” Jack replied. “When I said I had little interest, I meant I’m not participating in this farce.”

  Angus leaned forward. “Think about it, lad. We know your story with Belle, the women have shared it. And we know you. A body can’t escape you. You’re all over the papers, all over the magazines. We know your history, most especially with women. Then, one night, you meet this girl and within hours you know you want to spend the rest of your life with her? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  Deciding he was done and it was time to get back to Belle, Jack shook his head and started toward the door saying, “This is none of your fucking business.”

  “You and Belle are connected,” Angus called after him.

  Jack stopped, hand to the doorknob and turned back, “Yes, we are. But there’s nothing odd about it.”

  Angus hadn’t moved from his spot. “No, you’re right, it isn’t odd. It’s beautiful. But when I say you’re connected, I mean in more ways than you can imagine. It’s rare and it’s exquisite when it happens and it’s happened to you. You and Belle are connected supernaturally. You belong together. You’re destined for one another. You felt it immediately and don’t stand there and tell me or yourself you didn’t.”

  Suddenly, Jack remembered the first time Belle’s eyes fell on him. He remembered it felt like a sledgehammer had hit him in the gut.