by Jordan, Skye
“I’m comin’ for you, fucker,” Jack said, menace rumbling through his voice. “I’m comin’ for you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re not skating while I’m around.”
This wasn’t the Jack she knew. She’d never seen even a hint of this angry, threatening side, and she couldn’t ignore the cloud of doubt building around her heart. How could she know which side of him was real? Had he been pretending he was a good guy when he was with her? Did he use that as a ruse to get women? It sounded as if he never stayed in one place long. Maybe playing the unpretentious, sexy architect snagged him a woman at every jobsite.
Hell, when she got right down to it, what did she really know about Jack? Alex, on the other hand, had been a steady, trusted friend for years. He’d always had her back. But she couldn’t deny his father had put Pinnacle at risk. Jack had a right to be angry.
Jesus, this was all too much to take in. She couldn’t control whatever was between Jack and Alex. She could only control what was between herself and Jack. And, man, once he knew she worked for Pinnacle, after telling her all that confidential information, he’d probably be livid. It wasn’t her fault, but Bruce’s indiscretions weren’t Alex’s fault either, and it was obvious Jack still blamed him.
After she told him who she was and what she did, he would probably feel exactly the same way about her.
But there was no way around it. She had to tell him.
17
Mondays always seemed to be nonstop days for Jack’s architectural firm, and after visiting Pinnacle’s construction site this morning, Jack had been behind from the start.
He’d moved his dad’s large computer screen into the family room and connected them to his laptop so he could hang with his dad while he got some work done.
His dad was in his favorite recliner reading the paper when Jack heard the front door open and the kids rattle in. The older two skipped through the house and settled in the living room with their toys.
“Sounds like our boys are home.” His father’s comment was so normal, it reminded him of what a difference a few weeks on medication had made. He was still marveling over Jon’s lucid comment when Jen wandered in, carrying Joshua.
“How are you two doing?” Jen eased to a seat on the sofa and settled Joshua on her knees facing forward.
“Your brother’s barely taken his eyes off that computer all afternoon,” their father said.
Jen’s brows lifted, and her gaze darted to Jack. “Is that right?”
Jack just rolled his eyes.
His dad harrumphed, folded the paper, and set it aside. Then he smiled and lifted his arms. “Come to Pop-Pop, little Joshie.”
Jack and Jen locked gazes and smiled. Their dad was returning.
Jon wiggled his fingers. “Bring me my boy, Jen.”
She stood and eased the baby into her father’s arms. She and Jack grinned like idiots while they watched Jon talk nonsense to Joshua, who basked in his grandfather’s attention, cooing and grinning.
Jen pushed to her feet and kissed her dad’s cheek. “You look great today, Dad. I’m going to order dinner. Any special requests?”
He tilted his head back to look at Jen. “Chevy’s. I’m craving their paper-thin tortilla chips.”
“You got it.” On her way out, she tugged on Jack’s sleeve, and he followed her into the kitchen. “Wow. Every day, he gets better and better.”
“He’s definitely improving,” Jack said. “I was skeptical, but the meds are really making a difference.”
Jen opened a food delivery app on her phone. “What can I get for you?”
“Nothing.” He slid his phone from his back pocket and glanced at the face. “I’m still hoping to get a yes on dinner plans of my own.”
“The waitress again?” she asked while tapping in an order.
“Bartender, and yes.” With no answer from the text he’d sent to Miranda earlier, he pocketed the phone.
Jen scrutinized him.
He held up his hands. “Don’t start.”
Jen finished her order and set her phone on the counter. “You’re not seriously going to try to make a long-distance thing work, are you?” She stepped out of her heels and slid off her blazer. “This is the prime of your life, Jack, and you’re a damn fine catch. Just don’t settle. Especially not because she’s good in bed. Frequency of sex is inversely proportional to the complexity of life. And life only gets more complicated with time.”
“I haven’t met anyone like this in a long time.” He felt a little disappointed Jen wasn’t more interested. “I really like her.”
His cell chimed with a text. He pulled the phone from his pocket and found a response from Miranda. If you’re still free, let’s meet at Al’s BBQ.
A smile split his face, and he punched the air with his fist. “Yes.”
“Just make sure you think it through,” Jen said before tapping his temple. “With this head.”
Jen wandered into the living room with the boys, and Jack returned Miranda’s text with an alternate idea. Are you open to something quieter so we can talk? Maybe Wallflower or Bourbon Street?
Her reply came immediately. Sure. Let’s do Bourbon Street. I can be there in twenty.
Jack had just dropped into the driver’s seat of his car when he received a call from Kelsey. It was almost seven, so this couldn’t be good news. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Stir-crazy. I’ve already got cabin fever.”
“I bet.”
“I’m really sorry you’ve been thrown into the fire,” Kelsey said. “Every one of my current projects are freaking migraines. How’s your dad?”
“Better. We’re cautiously optimistic.”
“That’s great news.”
“So, what’s up?” He put his car in reverse and backed out of the drive.
“The client on my Tampa project is pushing back on the design approval. I’ve spoken with him at length over the phone and Skype, sent him revised sketches, but the man just will not sign off. I hate to ask you, but I think he needs a personal visit. If he doesn’t get onboard within the next week, the project timeline will be shot to hell.”
Damn. Jack let the car drift to the curb and closed his eyes. “Okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Jack.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. Just life, right?” At least it was his life. “Shoot me all the information, and I’ll have Penny coordinate with the client.”
“I promise to make it up to you when I’m back in the office,” Kelsey said.
“Not a problem.”
“Jack, I hate to tell you this, but it’s starting to look like we’re going to need you back in the office sooner than we thought. The junior architects are flailing under the burden. Once you get your father’s company financials cleared up, maybe you can come to New York during the week and head back to your father’s on weekends.”
Jack closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple. “I understand. I’ll take care of Tampa. Let’s play it by ear after that. Take care of yourself and that baby.”
Jack disconnected with the weight of the world on his shoulders again, which was when he realized just how good he’d been feeling without it.
18
Miranda paced the waiting area of Bourbon Steak, an upscale restaurant in the heart of downtown Nashville, where the waiters wore black uniforms and white aprons. Where the tables were draped in linen and the drinks cost more than an entire meal at fifty different restaurants in town.
She’d dressed as well as her wardrobe allowed: black jeans and a thin floral-print sleeveless blouse with small ruffles at the shoulders. She only owned four pairs of shoes—work boots, cowboy boots, cross trainers, and flip-flops. Of course, the cowboy boots won out.
She leaned her shoulder against a wall, crossed her arms, and silently rehearsed what she’d tell Jack. She’d had no idea he was connected with Pinnacle. She’d been too shocked when she’d seen him at the site to behave appropriately. That everything he’d told
her in confidence would remain in confidence. Of course, then she’d have to open up even more about her life now. He’d want to know how a woman ended up as a welding foreman. Everyone did.
She rocked tension from her shoulders. After so many years of assumptions and judgments by others, she shouldn’t be concerned how this man viewed her. All they had between them was sex. Great sex, but still just sex. Part of her was looking forward to telling him everything. To getting it all out in the open. To seeing how he reacted. She also hoped it would open up a discussion about Alex, because he was Miranda’s friend and she wasn’t about to start ending friendships because it suited someone else.
She pulled out her phone, checked the time, and looked for a message from Jack just as the restaurant door opened and he walked in. He wore tan pants and a chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled to his forearms. As soon as his gaze fell on her, he smiled. Happiness sparkled in his eyes. Miranda’s heart squeezed. She extended her hand, and he took it, pulling her close.
He cupped her face, stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and offered a husky “Hi.”
She grinned and fingered the open collar of his shirt. “Hi.”
“You look amazing.” He lowered his head and kissed her. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week.”
“Your table is ready.”
The host’s voice broke them apart, but Jack kept his hand in hers as they moved through the restaurant to a spacious booth by the window. They accepted menus and placed drink orders, a local IPA for Jack and Miranda’s signature club soda and lime.
When the host was gone, they just grinned at each other. All her ideas of breaking things off fell away when she was face-to-face with him.
She reached across the table and took his hand. “How are you?”
“Great, now. You?”
“Same.”
A waiter came over with their drinks, and it took a minute for them to resettle.
“How’s your dad?” she asked, hoping to segue into her news.
“Better.” He nodded and held her hand in both of his. “A little better every day. He’s recognizing people, remembering things. He’s stronger. It’s good. Really good.”
Her heart lightened. “That’s fantastic.”
“It’s so good to see the dad I know coming back. And the attorneys have made headway in the embezzlement problem with the company. I’m hoping all the financial problems are gone by the time Dad’s ready to go back to work.”
She breathed easier—for him and herself. “That’s such good news.”
“Yeah, yeah, it is.”
Miranda choked up the nerve to dive in. “So, about work—”
“I do have some bad news though—”
They spoke at the same time.
“Bad news?” she asked. “More trouble with the company?”
“Not the one here, but the one back home.” He’d sobered, and something about his demeanor made Miranda brace herself. “Work is really piling up. They want me back in the office. At least during the week. The firm can’t manage all the work with two partners out on leave.”
It took Miranda a second to figure out what he was saying. When she did, some distant, primal part of her shut down. She felt it like a click in her chest. It was automatic and instinctive.
He’s leaving.
The mind played such sick games. Like the way it was telling her that everyone she loved eventually left. And that made her realize just how much she was hoping there would be more to it. More to them. Another layer of barriers slid into place.
She’d known this would happen, but still somehow hadn’t expected it. At least not this soon and not with so much left unsaid between them.
Miranda eased her hand from his and picked up her glass. “I guess it’s better to have too much work than not enough.”
“Right now, it’s just a quick trip to Tampa,” he was saying. “A couple of days at the most. Once that’s done, I can check in with the office to see when they need me back.”
Intellectually, she knew her emotions were irrational. It didn’t matter that what was happening now wasn’t what had happened in the past. The pain felt the same, and her brain lumped this situation in with all the others. The father figures who’d floated in and out of her life. Her mother, who’d been more of a child and ultimately a complete flake. Her siblings going off to live with new families. Her friends who’d left town for college.
They all said they’d stay in touch, but then never did. It was just something people said.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face. Jack reached for her hand and curled his fingers around hers. “Hey, it’s not that bad. Flights between JFK and here are quick and cheap. I’m going to be home a lot more to help my dad transition back into work. And you’re so busy, you probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”
She only heard half of what he was saying. Her heart struggled between keeping him in and pushing him out. And when the hell had her heart come into any of this?
“Miranda.” His serious tone drew her focus. “I know what you’re doing. I can see it in your face. Don’t pull away. I’m saying I want to keep seeing you.”
Instinct overpowered desire and dreams. She pulled her hand from his and took another drink of her water. There was no point in telling him who she was or what she did. There was no point in even entertaining the idea of continuing to see him. She was far too much of a realist to believe fantasies ever turned into reality.
“I appreciate the interest, Jack, but I think you know as well as I do that keeping this going isn’t realistic.” Now that the ax had fallen, she had an urgent need to get out of the restaurant. Away from Jack. Back to a place where her feet touched the ground. Where she could breathe. “Your family needs you. Your company needs you. Your life is somewhere else. It would be foolish to think otherwise. Let’s just appreciate what we had and move on.”
She slid toward the end of the booth, but Jack grabbed her hand again. “Whoa, Miranda, no. No, no, no. I don’t want to let this go. You’re important to me. I’m crazy about you. We can do this. The travel doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
She absolutely couldn’t invest her heart in this man. It was all too complicated. She’d let him cloud her judgment. She’d let him in. She should have known better.
“It’s not just the travel, Jack. You haven’t thought it through. You just got this news, and you’re trying to juggle all your responsibilities. Once you start trying to split yourself between your work and your family, you’ll realize adding me into the mix isn’t going to work. I’d rather part now with good memories than spend months trying to force something, only to end with bad feelings.”
She stood and gave his hand one more squeeze. “Wrong time, wrong place for both of us. Stay amazing, Jack.”
19
Jack opened the front door of his father’s house with his heart at his feet and frustration still humming through his body. His nephews’ laughter floated down from the second floor, where he knew bath and bedtime probably had Jen wanting to tear her hair out.
Now that he’d absorbed the impact of Miranda’s rejection, Jack pulled his phone from his pocket and texted her. I really want to talk more about this. I care about you. I know this is complicated, but we can do this.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and started toward the stairs to give Jen a hand with the boys. These kids had a way of lightening his heart. And he desperately needed that now.
Jack passed the family room and heard the television. He stepped into the room to turn it off and found his father right where Jack had left him, in his recliner with a newspaper open on his lap.
“You’re still up.” He wandered in and sat on the edge of the sofa. His father’s depression usually left him exhausted, and he’d been sleeping nearly twelve hours a day. The fact that he was still awake and reading was a great sign.
“I should go up and help your sister,” he said, glancing at Jack over the tops of his reading glasses. “But
just the thought exhausts me.”
Jack smiled. “I’ve got it.”
“Thank you, son.”
Jack hadn’t heard his father call him son in over a year. The warmth of it turned all his frustration into heartache. “I’m leaving for Tampa tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
His father refocused on the paper and turned the page. “You’ve got a project down there?”
Instead of explaining the complications at work, he simply answered, “Yeah. A client is holding up the approval process.”
His father didn’t seem to hear Jack’s answer. He was smiling at something in the paper.
“What are you reading?” Jack asked.
“I love seeing our employees doing good in the community.”
Jack didn’t have interest in hearing more about Pinnacle and its employees, but he realized he needed to know everything that was going on so he wasn’t blindsided by anything else.
“What’s it about?” he asked.
“One of our people working with a veterans’ charity to create low-cost housing that helps vets get off the streets and into a safe space.”
Veterans’ charity. A tingle pricked the back of Jack’s neck. “Who’s doing that?”
“A Miranda Wright.”
A swarm of bees invaded Jack’s stomach. He stood and moved behind his father’s chair to look at the article over his father’s shoulder.
“Says she’s one of our foremen—or forewoman, I guess. Her name sounds familiar, but…” His father shook his head.
Jack’s gaze landed on a photo in the article. Miranda stood beside the shell of a shipping container along with an older man with a prosthetic leg who had his arm around her shoulders. Jack was still trying to fit Miranda into Pinnacle when his father lowered the paper and his gaze went distant. “Randy. That’s it. I heard they call her Randy on the site because it helps her fit in with the men. We usually have one or two women on the crews. Guess she’s one of them.”