The Redhead Revealed

by Alice Clayton

  Of course, true to form, I’d refused to deal, letting this build to the point of full meltdown before acknowledging it. Why? A battle raged constantly between the cool, tough Grace exterior and the sad, frightened, still-sees-herself-as-the-fat-girl Grace on the inside. Jack had taken a tiny peek or two at Inside Grace, but he had yet to experience the mess that was actually in there. Come on, why deal with things expediently when they can fester and become an emotional storm of epic proportions? I never claimed to be the mature one in this relationship, that’s for sure.

  I second that.

  “Hey, Gracie, I think we should skip the movie and just stay in and have a shag, what do you say?” he deadpanned, stopping in the archway to the living room. His hands were pressed to either side of the archway, his hair raked back and crazy, his lower lip sucked in between his teeth, and his eyes blazing deep green. He smirked at me, taking my lack of speech as proof that his seduction was working.

  He sauntered closer, coming up behind me on the couch and leaning over my shoulder. “What do you say we close this thing and talk more about this while I take these pesky clothes off of you…” he started. Then he saw the pictures on the computer.

  He froze.

  “Explain this, please,” I said in a low voice. When I was mad, I was dangerously quiet.

  “Shit, Grace, I was going to tell you about this. I know how bad it looks, but really, it’s nothing,” he said.

  “Explain this now, please,” I asked again, my voice even quieter. I was beginning to shake I was so angry, but beneath the anger was a profound sadness. This is what I’d been afraid of since the beginning.

  “Grace, really, just listen. Marcia—she’s just a friend. I swear. You can even ask Holly,” he said, walking around to the front of the couch and moving the laptop away. He sat on the coffee table in front of me, watching my eyes. I think my expression told him to tread lightly.

  Holly knows?

  “Holly knows about this?” I asked, closing my eyes and feeling prickling behind my eyelids.

  “Well, yes, she does. We talked about it earlier this week when these pictures first came out. I know this looks bad, Grace, but truly, she is just a friend. And Holly actually thinks we can make this work in our favor, since the pictures are already out there,” he started to explain.

  This was just sounding worse.

  “I know you used to date her, Jack. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t. I know better. What are you doing going out with your ex-girlfriend? I know I must sound like some crazy bitch, but right now I’m feeling all kinds of crazy, so start talking,” I said, my voice finally getting a little louder.

  “Okay, yes, we used to date. But we’re just friends now. I promise you there’s nothing going on! She knows all about you. I talk about you all the time. That’s actually one of the reasons we’ve been hanging out so much lately. Her boyfriend travels a lot, and she never sees him. So we hang out sometimes. It’s harmless. I swear, Grace.”

  “Ya know, it’s not so much that you’re hanging out with her, which I can overlook. Hey, man, we have no claims on each other. You can hang out with whoever you want. But the fact that no one bothered to tell me, and that you and Holly even discussed this? I feel sick. I really feel sick,” I said, my voice getting louder still.

  Jack was quiet, looking at the floor.

  I went on, the twists and turns of my stomach somehow giving me the push I needed to keep going. “Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? I feel like an old fool. Maybe this is the kind of person you should be with—someone who fits with you better than I ever could. And I’m sorry, Jack, but a girl does not text you in the middle of the night if all she wants is friendship,” I finished, the tears beginning to creep down my face. I wiped them angrily away.

  Jack’s face had grown angry as well, but it flashed confusion when I mentioned the text. “What text? What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “She texted you in the middle of the night weeks and weeks ago, before I even left L.A. You were asleep, and I picked it up to shut it off. Yes, I read it. I shouldn’t have, but I fucking did. I would say I’m sorry, but you know what? I’m not really even sorry. I wanted to see who was texting the man asleep in my bed, with his hands all over my body, at three in the morning. And looky what we have here! The same girl you’ve been photographed with all over town. Shocking, really,” I said sarcastically, getting up from the couch and pushing past him to stand in the kitchen.

  I was still crying, but these were angry tears, pissed-off tears. All that shit I’d been pushing away for so long was coming home to roost now, and all I could do was hang on and let it come out.

  Jack was quiet, still sitting on the coffee table. He finally rose and stood in front of me, face stormy.

  “Gracie, I am going to say this once. Was I wrong not to tell you I was hanging out with my ex-girlfriend? Yes, probably. Was I wrong to not tell you sooner about the conversation I had with Holly? Yes, definitely. I’ve never done this before—had a relationship with someone who lives across the country while I’m going through the biggest thing professionally I’ve ever, or probably will ever, go through. And you know what? There will probably be more pictures of Marcia and me together. In fact, I can guarantee it. She has a movie she’s promoting, and our managers are milking this thing for all it’s worth. Even if you don’t trust me, which you clearly don’t, you know Holly would never do anything to hurt you. She was bloody well pissed when she saw these, as she should be. I really have my head up my ass sometimes, and I didn’t think about what these pictures would look like, or how they might make you feel,” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Well, I think—” I started, and he put his finger over my lips.

  “I’m not finished. You seem to think I’m going to fuck around on you. I admit that these pictures look terrible if you’re thinking about it in that way. You’re here, I’m there, and it sucks. But there has to be some trust between us. Would you agree?” he asked, removing his finger.

  I glared at him. “Yes, I agree, but—”

  “Grace, you either agree or you don’t. Yes or no?”

  “Yes, I agree, and I do trust you,” I said, a fresh wave of tears starting.

  “I trust you too. Otherwise I’d be asking you why there are a pair of men’s trainers by the front door. A less-trusting boyfriend would wonder about that…” He trailed off, arching an eyebrow at me and looking over my shoulder.

  I turned and followed his gaze, and I saw Michael’s sneakers. He’d left them here the other night, changing into boots when it started raining.

  Touché.

  Shit.

  I looked back at Jack. He seemed curious, and a little…apprehensive?

  “Grace, you’re a beautiful woman. I see how men look at you. I know there are other men who want to be with you. Whose shoes are those?” he asked.

  I grabbed a box of Kleenex and blew my nose loudly, getting control again. “Michael’s. They’re Michael’s,” I said. “He was here earlier in the week. We were working on a scene, and he changed shoes. He never took those with him, and frankly, I didn’t even notice they were here until now.”

  Jack had nothing to worry about. Michael and I were just friends. Just friends.

  Friends that used to have feelings for each other.

  But Jack doesn’t know about that.

  “Did you and Michael ever date, Gracie?” he asked.

  “Date? No,” I answered quickly. That was true. We never dated.

  “Are you sure? You two seem to have more than friendship in your past. I noticed that right away. And when I said I see how other men look at you? He looks at you that way,” Jack added, his face going dark and his eyes turning that stormy-sea green I saw at the airport when I left L.A.

  “No, we never dated. But yes, there were feelings there—years and years ago. That’s all over, though. We truly are just friends,” I assured him, breathing a little more easily now.

  “Friends. Lik
e me and Marcia are just friends.”

  “Ugh,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  “Do you see how much easier this is if we just tell each other what’s going on?” he asked, reaching out his hand to me. I hesitated for a second, then took it.

  “How the hell did you get so mature at twenty-four? Seriously, man. I’m like a basket case next to you,” I said, breaking the tension a little.

  “I’m British. We’re born more mature,” he said with the sexy half smile that always turned me to mush.

  “Feeling better now?” he asked as I blew my nose again.

  “Yes, but don’t ever let me find out something like that courtesy of TMZ again, okay? I can’t take another surprise like that,” I said fiercely, as he crushed me against his chest.

  “I promise. That was a shitty thing to do. And don’t let Michael get too comfortable over here. I don’t want to have to piss in the corners to mark my territory, but I will if I need to,” he said.

  I laughed in spite of myself. “Well, you tell that Marcia I’ll be very glad to meet her next time I’m in L.A. And make sure to tell her I said to keep her hands to herself in the meantime. I can go along with seeing pictures of you two together for publicity’s sake, but the second I see her hand on your ass, the bitch is going down.” I grabbed his collar and pulled him closer to me.

  “Fucking Nuts Girl, how could I love anyone but you? You’re insane,” he said, lowering his mouth to mine.

  I let my hand slip down to his buns and gave him a squeeze. “This sweet ass is mine, and don’t you forget it. Now come give mama some sugar,” I said, and kissed him hard.

  We never made it to the movie. We made it through another potential shitstorm, and we kept our shit intact. We were an odd couple to say the least, but for now, all was well in Jack-and-Grace Land. And we were off to the Four Seasons.

  That night we did the crossword puzzle, and I made him clean up his room. Honestly, it was messy already. We watched the Golden Girls, and then he made love to me slowly and sweetly. The rest would work itself out another day.

  Interesting. Shoving shit to the side again already, are we?

  Sigh.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning I woke to the sound of the phone ringing shrilly. Jack groaned and dove deeper under the covers, leaving me to roll across him to answer it on his side of the bed.

  “No, no, let me get it,” I muttered sarcastically as I grabbed the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?” I asked, yawning deeply.

  “Shhh, too loud, too early,” he mumbled from under the covers. I poked my toe into his thigh.

  “Good morning. This is your wake-up call,” a chipper voice said.

  “Great. I love wake-up calls,” I said and hung up. I leaned back against Jack, listening to his breathing begin to even out already. I squinted at the clock. It was seven-fifteen. I had an early rehearsal today.

  We hadn’t been rehearsing on Saturdays, but as we got closer to the preview dates, and Michael continued making daily changes to the script, he’d ramped up our schedule. Jack had an interview planned, but we were both off this afternoon. The plan was a late lunch and maybe a walk in Central Park—very touristy.

  Speaking of wake-up calls, I wondered how Jack would feel about a Sheridan Wake-Up Call? I certainly enjoyed his Hamiltonian Wake-Up Calls…

  He will love it…

  I lifted my head and saw that he really had fallen back asleep, although if I knew my guy, part of him would still be up.

  I climbed under the covers and carefully worked my way down, moving stealthily so as not to wake him. I eased my way down his legs and positioned myself right over his boxers. I smiled as I slowly lifted the elastic band and lowered it just enough to sneak my hand in. I grasped him gently and softly, easing him out. I took him into my mouth, enveloping him with my lips and tongue, and felt him harden further. He was still asleep, although I heard his breathing change, coming a little faster. I tightened my mouth and felt him grow harder still.

  He moaned slightly, and then I felt his hands move at his sides, under the covers, just inches from my head. I moved my mouth around him again, lightly trailing my fingers up and down his stomach, and I finally heard my name.

  “Grace,” he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.

  I smiled around him, then took him in deeper, feeling him hit the back of my throat. He groaned, his hands moving down to twist in my hair.

  “Mmm, Gracie,” I heard from above the covers, and I knew he was enjoying himself. I grasped the base of him with my hands, my mouth creating a beautiful friction as I moved up and down on his length, causing his hips to buck, keeping time with my movements. He moaned and groaned and held my face in his hands as I continued to pleasure him, hearing him hiss as I altered my grip or sucked harder.

  “Grace, oh, God, Grace…mmm….Graaace.” He moaned as he exploded in pure pleasure. I smiled once again, loving how I could affect him this way. I kissed him tenderly, and he sighed in appreciation. I crawled up his body and came to rest with my head on his chest, his arms tightly around me.

  “Now that’s the kind of wake-up call I just do not get enough of,” he chuckled.

  “I should hope not, love,” I giggled, kissing his chest, feeling the little hairs there tickle my nose.

  We lay like this for a few more minutes until my cell phone alarm went off. I’d anticipated a possible romp when we finally went to bed the night before, and I planned ahead with a back-up snooze alarm. I grabbed it and turned it off, then sank back onto the bed.

  “Shower?” I asked, turning to look at him. His hair was all over the place, sheets low on his torso, and it was all I could do not to drool all over the one-thousand-thread-count sheets.

  “Shower,” he agreed. He threw off the covers, stretched, and started walking to the bathroom.

  “Don’t forget the coconuts, love,” he called over his shoulder as I watched his cute little tushy cross the room.

  How could I possibly forget the coconuts? I giggled wildly into the pillow like a schoolgirl, then grabbed shower gel from my overnight bag and made my way to where a very cute and very wet Brit waited for me in the shower.

  ~ ~ ~

  In rehearsal later that morning I saw Jack come in the back of the theater. He walked down to the front, listening to me sing. I saw his face change as he saw me in my element. I also saw his eyes dart toward Michael, who was watching and taking notes from the front row, looking at me in a way that was becoming more and more familiar.

  I finished the song, my voice ringing out clear and strong to the back of the house. “Hi, Sweet Nuts!” I yelled as the other actors began to leave the stage. He smiled sheepishly and raised a hand in greeting. The others gawked. Calling a grown man Sweet Nuts tended to make people look twice.

  Leslie grinned fiendishly at me, and I raised an eyebrow at her. She’d grilled me relentlessly all morning, making me tell her every detail about how Jack and I met and how long we’d been dating. I told her everything, except of course the details I preferred to keep to myself. I did tell her we were keeping our relationship out of the public eye—not only for his sake, but for mine. I explained that our friends knew, and that was fine, and we were not hiding in a cave somewhere, but if asked in an official way, Jack was single.

  She agreed, and as the rest of the cast found out, they also agreed to keep our little secret. Most of them had never even heard of Jack, and only a few were aware of the buzz his film was generating. I knew that would change in the next few weeks, and I was glad they could get to know him now—before he was on every talk show in America.

  I jumped off the stage and started for him. “Hey.” I smiled, closing the distance between us quickly.

  “Hey yourself,” he answered, smiling back at me with that sexy grin.

  I kissed him swiftly, and Leslie swooned behind me. “Wow, wow, wow, wow…” I heard her chant.

  “Shut it, Leslie.” I laughed, kissing on my Brit again.

 
; Jack laughed through my kiss, and we finally broke apart.

  “Ahem,” I heard Michael cough and turned to look. He looked at me, then at Jack. “Jack, good to see you again. You having fun in New York?” he asked.

  “So far, so good. Of course, we’ve barely left the hotel, but we’re definitely having fun,” Jack said, his hands drifting down to linger on my ass. I rolled my eyes, knowing I was in for another round of verbal dick measurement.

  Leslie continued her wow chant behind me.

  “Good, good. Grace, remember I need you Monday,” Michael said pointedly, staring at Jack’s hand, then at me.

  “You need her Monday, do you?” Jack asked. I poked him in the side.

  “We’re working on one last round of rewrites, and I need her input,” Michael said.

  “Michael, we discussed this. With Jack here, I really don’t think I’ll have the time. Does it have to be Monday? Can’t it wait until after he leaves?” I pouted, loathing the idea of not spending as much time with Jack as I could while he was here.

  “When are you leaving, Jack?” Michael asked. “I mean, so I know when Grace is available.”

  “I’m leaving Tuesday night. As for whether Grace is available, you’ll have to ask her,” he said, his voice taking a distinctive tone.

  These two…

  “Okay. Michael, I’m available again Wednesday morning. If it’s still cool with you, I’d really like the time until then to spend with Jack. Now, I’m going to get my bag. You two are both pretty, so you play nice. Leslie, quit saying wow,” I said, spinning on my heel and walking backstage to get my stuff. Jack gave me a playful swat on the ass as I moved away, earning him a shocked look from me.

  Honestly.

  Leslie followed, and as soon as we were out of earshot, she started laughing. “Holy shit, girl. Those two are totally fighting over you!”

  “What? Oh, please. Michael’s just concentrating on the show right now, and he wants to make sure everything’s right when we open.”