by Misty Simon
And the rest was history she did not want to think about on a night as pretty as this. She had felt like a woman, a real woman, for a few minutes in Jack’s arms. It wasn’t worth losing his friendship over, but she had definitely lost her head for just a little while.
She sighed as she saw his car pull up the long driveway. Where had he been all this time? He’d dropped off Mazzy’s blanket hours ago.
Unless he had gone for a drive. It was the answer to any dilemma when they were younger. When she’d had a fight with her mom, he and Paige would pick her up and they would blare the music and drive around the back country roads until she felt better. He’d done it for himself too, taking them along in case he wanted to talk or just have someone to share the misery with.
They had meant a lot to each other back then. She didn’t want to lose him again now that she’d reconnected with him.
Before she could think better of it, she jumped up and threw on her lightweight robe. Pajama bottoms and a tank top would not be enough to cover her up after their kiss.
She flew down the stairs and into the kitchen in hopes of snagging him before he went upstairs for the night. Just as she opened the swinging door into the kitchen, he disappeared through the door to the back stairs.
“Jack,” she said quietly, not wanting to scare him.
He paused with his hand on the door and stood there for a moment. Running his free hand over the back of his neck, he blew out an audible breath. When he turned around, there was a definite edge to his voice. “What can I do for you, Chelsea?”
Gone was the easy camaraderie from the beginning of her visit. Gone, too, was the passion in his eyes from a few hours ago. She pulled her robe more tightly around her. This was not going to be easy. But then, when was anything ever easy for her?
“Do you have a moment?”
“I always have time for a guest. We here at the Barton Inn live to serve.” He turned and bowed, mocking her.
All right, then they were going to do this the hard way.
“Can we sit?” She gestured at the table in the center of the kitchen. The table where they used to do homework. She wondered if she peeked under the left edge if his name would still be carved there with Paige’s and hers. That seemed a lifetime ago.
He took a seat across from her, letting her choose first. With his hands folded in front of him, he looked all business—his face set in that fake smile, an accommodating air all but reeking from him. She wanted to scream in frustration, but that would never get her anywhere.
“Can we drop the fakeness, please?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Come on. This is me. Who do you think you’re fooling?”
“I believe you’ve exceeded your questions for the night. Now, what can I do for you?” He looked at his watch, then flicked his eyes back up to hers. “It’s late and I have a lot to do tomorrow to get ready for Saturday. Is something not right with your room? Did you not get your full complement of towels? I can certainly take care of that in a matter of moments.”
She did scream, just a little, and muffled it with her hand. “Look, I’m not going to play this game with you.”
“You seemed perfectly willing to play with me earlier.” He drummed his fingers on the table, giving away his frustration with that one telltale sign.
“That’s not fair, and you know it.” She placed her hand over his drumming fingers and stilled them, willing him to look at her, really look at her.
And then he did, his eyes softening along with his mouth. He still didn’t look happy, but he no longer looked like he had a rod for a spine, either. “That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”
She squeezed his hand and tried to sort out all the things running through her mind over the last few hours. The way she had come alive in his arms. The way he had made her feel cherished. The way he had made her forget everything for just a little while. The way she had run and why. She wasn’t ready to share all this with him, but she could at least get some things out on the table.
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” She drew in a breath for courage before plunging on. “I’m not sure what happened, what came over me. I shouldn’t have let it go so far, and yet I did.”
“Why did you?” He seemed to honestly want to know, but she didn’t have an honest answer she could give him without putting herself and her well-being into jeopardy.
“I don’t know. It all felt so good, you felt so good. It’s been a long time since I’ve even been hugged by someone of the opposite sex who isn’t related to me, and I guess I simply went with it.” She shrugged, and he squeezed her hand this time. “It was just too fast and too much all at one time. I’m sorry.”
****
“So what are you saying?” Jack asked, catching her hand when she got up to pace.
“I don’t know what I’m saying, to be honest.” Chelsea’s eyes were red-rimmed and her nose shiny, but she looked beautiful to him. “We haven’t seen each other in years, only reconnected over email in the last month, and never spoke on the phone since graduating from high school, and all of a sudden we’re about to get naked…”
Just those words sent him back into overdrive, but he ruthlessly shoved his want down. This was not the time. He was not ruled by hormones. “Okay.” If this was a minefield then he’d better watch his toes.
She swiped at her cheek with the back of her wrist. “Okay? That’s all you have to say? Don’t you think it was too fast?”
“Um, yes?”
She laughed, though it sounded watery. “I’m simply saying we went from a kiss to bed in the blink of an eye. I have too many responsibilities and things to think about to have a fling. I can’t throw that all away.”
He hadn’t been thinking “fling” when he was touching her, holding her against his body. He’d been thinking “finally.” He guessed they were in two different places. He was not going to be the one to put himself on the line, though. He’d done it once and she had thought he was joking.
“Tell me you understand,” she said. She touched the side of his face with gentle fingers. It was a hard-won battle not to turn his lips into her palm and kiss her delicate, pale skin.
“I understand.”
“Now tell me you don’t hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Chelsea.” He brushed some hair behind her ear. “Let’s just get back to the point where we were friends. We’ll forget this evening ever happened. It won’t be a big deal.” He’d steeled himself for the end. It was just coming sooner than he had thought. He’d never gotten a chance to convince her to stay. “We’ll go back to the way it was and it won’t be a big deal. It was an aberration anyway. Just curiosity, right? It’ll be fine.” And then he kissed her on her cheek and wished her a good night.
Once up in his room, he kicked a chair and then cursed as his toe throbbed. Curiosity his ass, he thought, grumbling. She had been into him, into their kiss, and it had had nothing to do with it being too long, he was sure of it.
The question now was what did he do? Did he try to convince her they were good together? That they could be so much more than email buddies? Or did he let her go one more time, knowing this would be the last time he could handle her walking away?
Without realizing it, he had held her up as the shining example of everything he wanted in a woman for so long. She was kind and good, sweet yet sexy. She’d had a heart of gold when they were younger and never let anyone feel left out. She was a caretaker, but now she had a lot more to take care of.
Would he only be adding to her burden if he pushed this? Or would he finally have a chance to show her it was okay for her to have help, too? That it was okay to share sometimes and that was the kind of thing that made every successful marriage he’d ever seen work?
Was it fair to ask her to have faith and change her whole life again in the hopes they could make it work? He knew she cared for him. But did she love him the way he had come to realize he loved her?
Thi
nking about Chelsea, he also had to think about Mazzy. Was he ready to be a dad? Was he ready to raise a child? He dropped his head into his hands. He hadn’t been thinking beyond the moment when he was kissing Chelsea, but now that he had time on his hands, too much time as he waited for the sun to rise, he did think.
Being a dad to Mazzy would be a commitment. He shook his head at the thought of Paul being able to walk away from both of them. Jack was already so attached to Mazzy he had no idea what he was going to do when she left with her mother.
Maybe having Mazzy stay at her grandmother’s house was a better idea than he had thought. He’d meant it when he told Chelsea that the little girl could have the run of the house. But he hadn’t taken into account how having her in every nook and cranny of the house would have made it that much harder to let her go when the time came. It was going to be excruciating to let Chelsea leave after the wedding, after seeing what a great team they made, after feeling her soft and supple in his arms. He could not compound that with thoughts of how much he had enjoyed high tea and having a shadow.
Blowing out a sigh, he rested his head against the cool window overlooking the back garden. Normally the sight soothed him, but tonight all he saw was Mazzy twirling around in the flower beds and Chelsea smiling that radiant smile down on her.
He cursed as he realized he loved both of them more than he had ever loved anyone before. They brought light and life into his world—and he was going to have to let them go. He didn’t want to compete with the new promotion Chelsea had waiting for her nor rip Mazzy from the life she had always known. He was not going to try to get her to change everything if she didn’t feel the same for him.
Eventually he slept, but morning, facing Chelsea as if they were no more than friends and he hadn’t felt her lips all over his chest, was not going to be easy. Knowing he loved her and her daughter but couldn’t make them choose between their old life and him might just kill him before this was all done.
****
The next night, laughter filtered up from the speakeasy, but this time Jack did not go down to catch a glimpse of Chelsea. She had made it clear that anything with him was out of the question. They’d worked together during the day, running the vacuum cleaners, dusting and washing windows, but every time he’d tried to engage her she’d find something else, somewhere else, on her clipboard’s to-do lists.
Once this wedding was over, she would return home and he probably wouldn’t see her for another five to eight years. Mazzy would grow up and probably not remember they had played endless games on the floor in the library or that she had once called him Big Man and demanded kisses from him. Perhaps it was best this way.
He had the inn to think about, along with the prospect of more events booking up once this wedding went off without a hitch. Adele was feeling much better and back to her regular duties like the pro she was. Frank was happily starting the preparations for the big meal Belinda wanted for her reception. Things had settled down with Belinda’s requests. Jack figured he would recover once he waved goodbye to all the Moore women.
Then why did he feel like going caveman and toting Chelsea off to some secluded spot where he could try to talk some sense into her? And if that didn’t work, he could always kiss her senseless.
Straightening up the library one last time, he turned down the lights, then closed the door to Chelsea’s office. That room was hardly ever used. It would be a good space for something else. He didn’t know what yet, but maybe he would turn it into a game room just to eradicate the memories of her sitting in there, doing her work with her hair twisted into a bun with a pencil sticking out the sides. He could get a couple of arcade games, maybe a big screen television and a game console or two.
He leaned back against the closed door knowing he probably wouldn’t do it. Too much nature sat outside the front door to make this a place where kids stayed inside playing video games.
Maybe a pool table then, and a couple of dartboards so he and Dex could hang out here instead of going to a bar.
Whatever he decided, it would have to wait until she was gone. He tried to ignore the emptiness gnawing in his gut.
He wandered to the top of the stairs leading to the speakeasy, drawn to the distinct sound of Chelsea’s laughter amidst the other women laughing. She had a contagious laugh. Just for a moment he could see her being a hostess here, working beside him as Mazzy grew up running around the yard out back and doing all the things he and Chelsea had done when they were younger. They could have a good life here. But he wasn’t going to beg someone to stay.
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed eleven. He heard lots of footsteps on the stairs. He didn’t want to get caught mooning at the landing like some lovesick kid wishing for one simple glimpse of the girl of his dreams.
He hid in the kitchen as all the women came out of the speakeasy and headed for the front door.
“Good night, everyone,” he heard Chelsea call out to the others. “I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning! I’m going to go pour my sister into a bed here and then call Marcus to let him know she’s spending the night after all.”
Murmurs of assent and final goodbyes were called out, and then he heard the front door close.
Chelsea might need help getting her sister up those stairs. He popped out of the kitchen just as she was trying to lug Belinda up the first of twenty-two risers. Chelsea’s sister was taller but with the same curvy build. Chelsea was never going to make it up without falling over, especially with the way Belinda was leaning on her.
“Let me take her.”
Chelsea’s head whipped around and her smile was filled with gratitude. “Oh, Jack, do you mind? I said I’d do it, but I’m afraid I bit off more than I can carry.”
“It’s not a problem at all. Good thing you already had Marcus bring over her stuff for tomorrow or you’d have a hell of a time getting her ready.” He put his shoulder under Belinda’s arm and his arm around her back. He’d drag her up the stairs, if need be. She wouldn’t feel a thing in her condition.
“I guess she got a little carried away with the drinking game we were playing.” Chelsea stroked her sister’s hair back away from her forehead and kissed her on the temple. “She’s so excited and nervous about tomorrow. I felt like that when I started having contractions with Mazzy.”
“Why don’t you grab a bucket from the linen closet in case her nervousness comes spilling out of her mouth?” He grunted as he hauled Belinda’s dead weight up the stairs. Three steps up, Chelsea caught Belinda’s other arm and they wrestled her to the top of the stairs together.
He left while Chelsea got Belinda ready for bed, but stayed outside the door in case she needed something. Belinda was a guest now, in any case, and it was his duty to make sure she was comfortable. But he drew the line at undressing guests. Unless that guest was Chelsea. That line of thought didn’t bear thinking.
He leaned against the wall, listening to the quiet sounds of Chelsea soothing her sister while getting her tucked in for the night. He made a mental note to have some hair of the dog ready in the morning, along with the concoction his mother had made him drink the first time he had a hangover. It tasted like ash but it did the job. Belinda was getting married at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. After tonight, she would need something if she was going to look perky and happy to be tying the knot.
The hall lights were dim when Chelsea stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed quietly behind her. He knew the exact moment she noticed him because her whole body went stiff.
****
“Jack,” Chelsea said with her hand on her heart. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Don’t sneak up on a person like that.” She said the words, but in truth her heart was racing from being near him again.
At her mother’s today she had taken a long look in the mirror and then gone out to have a fun lunch with her mother and her daughter. But on the drive home, her mother’s words and Jack’s words had run over and over in her mind until
they had sunk in like a mantra.
What was she waiting for? She had asked herself the question while she kissed Mazzy goodbye and was told to say hello to Big Man for her and to give him a kiss. She had asked herself again when she had caught a faint whiff of his cologne just as he rounded the corner into the dining room when she was trailing along behind him on the way to her temporary office. And she had asked it again when she was getting ready for the bachelorette party tonight, thinking about how nice it would be to get ready with Jack in the next room reading or watching television. He could tell her she looked nice or help her fasten the clasp of her necklace. All the little things she missed because she was alone.
Alone because she chose it. But she could unchoose it if she wished.
“I thought I’d wait around and see if you had everything under control,” he said, not moving a muscle of that lithe, big body. The one that had pressed up against her as she gripped the banister behind her for balance last night.
“She’s in bed and comfortable. I can’t speak for the morning, but we’ll get her in shape.”
“That’s good then. I guess you’ll be turning in for the night yourself. Big day tomorrow.”
“Yep.” What kind of inane conversation was this? But she hadn’t been ready to face him yet. She’d wanted to wait until after the wedding and see what could be salvaged after they both got what they wanted—him the wedding of the season and her a happily married sister.
“I’ll say goodnight then, and wish you sweet dreams.” He turned to walk away, taking all the air in the hallway with him. It came out as his name from Chelsea’s lips.
He turned at the top of the stairs to peer back at her. She couldn’t read his expression in the dim lighting, but she knew what she wanted and would trust she hadn’t killed his interest after she had told him no last night. She didn’t have to wait until after the wedding. She didn’t have to wait at all if she didn’t want to.
Taking slow steps, she walked toward him. She was unsteady on her feet despite the fact she had not had a single drink this evening. He waited for her at the landing with his arms crossed, leaning against the railing.