by Vivian Wood
“I don’t know,” Jack said truthfully. “What’s the point? It’s not like anything could be done if I did have the gene. I probably shouldn’t say this, as a medical professional, but I think some things are just destined. What difference would it make if I knew I had the gene for Huntington’s or not?”
“I guess that’s true,” she said as she nodded slowly. “But still, there are experimental procedures. More time to consider naturopathic or alternative therapies in conjunction with Western medicine’s best practices. If it were me—”
“But it’s not,” he said simply. He smiled at Addy to let her know he wasn’t judging.
“No. I suppose it isn’t.”
“Are you satisfied now?”
She scrunched up her face, making him chuckle.
“Let me know if it’s prying, seriously,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “Is your father the reason you got into medicine?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess it is. I mean, he was a surgeon for years, and then he was treated by so many doctors… I guess I was around hospitals for all my formative years.”
He’d always known that, but had never said it aloud before.
“That’s not uncommon,” Addy said. “I’ve heard of a lot of doctors who spent an inordinate amount of time in hospitals as children. Either because of an illness themselves, or a family member.”
“Mmm,” Jack said noncommittally. “All right. Enough about me. Tell me about what made you cry at the restaurant.”
“Oh,” she said, turning pink. “It seems silly, after… all that.”
“And yet, it’s what I want to know. We made a deal, remember?”
“Well, you put it in perspective, to say the least. But… well, you know my ex?”
“Yeah. Jeremy. He’s a piece of work.”
“Well, he came in with his new girlfriend.”
“Into your restaurant?”
“Yep. Shannon. She’s a girl I went to high school with, and she hasn’t changed a bit since. She’s still blonde, pretty, and mean.”
“Did you kick them out?” he asked. The waiter came and took their plates away, and Jack was quick to drop to twenties on the table.
“Well… I did say, ‘get the F out of my restaurant’. But only after she said some really atrocious stuff to me. And then I cried, and I ran outside. That’s when you found me.”
“Jeez. Well, did you at least embarrass her in the bargain?”
“I mean, I made a scene. Everyone in the restaurant turned and looked.”
“Good girl,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Also, what a dick! To bring his new chick to your restaurant…”
“The whole thing was ridiculous.”
“Not to change the subject, but… do you feel like ice cream? I think there’s a place just a couple doors down.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Ice cream, after a poboy sandwich? Now that is decadent.”
“I’ll have you know, I treat all my wives this well. Especially the hot ones,” he said, winking at her. She flushed. The color looked good on her, the light pink bringing out the blue in her eyes.
“All right, well since you treat all your wives this way…”
He stood up and offered her his arm, and she rose and took it. Her touch was light, but he still felt a bit charged by it, like she was made of pure energy.
As they strolled down the block, he looked down on her. She was tall enough for a woman, but at 6’2 he dwarfed her nonetheless.
He could easily imagine them in bed together, her curled up at his side, reading a book. She would fit against him nicely, his tanned complexion standing out against her flawless pale one.
Then he made the mistake of thinking about why they would be in bed together. He could just imagine her riding his cock, her head tossed back and her mouth open. God, the things he could do to that sweet mouth…
“Wait,” she said, tugging on his arm. “This is Fifty Licks.”
“Oh,” he said.
Damn, even the way she says the name of the ice cream parlor is sexy.
She pushed open the door, releasing his arm. He followed her inside, unsettled. He wasn’t sure why he was having these fantasies about her.
Not that she wasn’t beautiful. She was, truly.
She just wasn’t his type. All of his exes looked like Rosalie; they were tall, thin, and willowy. Usually blonde, with a competitive personality. The problem was, he’d had Rosalie. She was the dream, right?
But he hadn’t ended up with her. If he remembered correctly, he’d dumped Rosalie pretty spectacularly.
He looked at Addy, who was bent over at the display case, examining the flavors. She was so petite, and lacking in the long-limbed grace that all his exes had in spades. There was something about her, though.
Something unique. She turned to him, her huge smile infectious. She was enthusiastic about a flavor, beckoning to him to come try it.
He walked over as she got two samples from the girl behind the counter. She offered one of the pink spoons with a little chocolate blob of ice cream to him, and he took it.
“Omigod,” she said, her eyes fluttering shut. She took a second taste, savoring it. “This is soooo good.”
It was good, but watching her enjoy it was better.
“We’ll have two of these,” he said to the girl behind the counter. “In waffle cones.”
Addy finished the sample and eyed him with amusement. “That’s the first one we tasted!”
“I know what I like,” he said with a shrug. “It’s that simple.”
“I wish I was more like that,” she said as he paid for their ice cream. “I’m always concerned that I’m missing something really great because of something that’s only good.”
“FOMO?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Fear of missing out. That’s the name for what you just described.”
“Ah. Well, I guess that’s it.”
She led the way out of the shop, where they found a spot at one of the tables. He watched her as she licked the sides of her ice cream, careful not to let it drip. He watched her pink tongue dark out and retreat over and over again.
He shook his head at himself, and refocused on his own ice cream cone. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up fantasizing about all the other things she could do with that little mouth of hers…
And that wasn’t the point of their outing today. Hell, it wasn’t really the point of anything between them, though he was starting to wonder about that.
What was the point of their… relationship? He could shove almost anyone under his mum’s nose. Why Addy?
He looked up at her and she gave him a lopsided grin. He chuckled.
He told himself that he didn’t need a reason. He could’ve woken up next to almost anyone in Reno. It wasn’t about her.
…right?
Chapter Eight
She could tell even as she opened her eyes at dawn that Jack wasn’t in the condo. He had a presence when he was there, regardless of what room he was in, constantly moving.
Addy stretched out in the bed and pressed deeper into the new, firm mattress. They’d lived together for just five days, and had hardly seen each other in that time. Not that she could complain.
Addy had been quick to sign on for double shifts at the restaurant. She’d trained the new hires herself, and Kenzie was happy to skip out on that aspect of the job.
Jack’s hours at the hospital had quickly increased as the town accepted the medical center as more convenient than the other options—and it didn’t hurt that the new doctors in town looked like they did.
Occasionally, they’d pass each other in the hallway or bump into one another in the kitchen. Those encounters usually entailed a few polite hellos and nothing more. A few times, Addy had been rushing out the door just as Jack arrived home from an eighteen-hour shift at the hospital.
Is this really what married life is like? she wondered. If so, it didn’t seem like s
he was missing out on much.
Even stretched out, she could tell her feet ached from so many hours at the restaurant. Her right forearm was tired from carrying heavy trays.
Addy reached for the sketchbook she kept beside the bed and flipped to a blank page. With a hard charcoal pencil, she started to sketch the first thing that came to mind. A slice of cherry pie that she’d dropped in the middle of the dining room yesterday.
It had splattered like blood across her white apron and the just-scrubbed floors. Someone at the bar had given her a slow clap.
“Can’t you think about anything besides work?” she asked herself as she filled in the details.
The big pieces of chunky sugar that topped it. The way the baker had tightly folded the crust edge. She hated herself for not being able to turn off work mode, but she finished the sketch.
Complete, she snapped the book shut and pulled herself out of bed. Finally, she’d be able to fully stock the kitchen like she’d promised Jack. What better use of a day off than to trudge through household chores?
Plus, the bathroom lacked everything but a shower liner.
Might as well take care of that, too.
Addy stretched her arms overhead as she walked to the kitchen. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool air against her bare midriff as her t-shirt crept up her abdomen. Her eyes snapped open as the side door to the kitchen burst open.
“’Bout time, lazybones,” Jack said. He cradled two coffees from the good drive-thru in his hands.
“Jesus! Jack, I thought you were working today.”
“I was, I just got off. Coffee?”
“Aren’t you… aren’t you tired?”
“Tired? But it’s morning.”
“Yeah, but not for you.”
“Do you want the coffee or not?”
She bit her lip and looked at the two large white paper cups. “What kind is it?”
“Dunno. Americano, I think.”
“Black?”
“What, is my wife racist?”
“I meant… never mind. I like it with a lot of cream and Splenda. Which I’m guessing you don’t have.”
“You guessed right. But I do have sugar and skim milk.”
Addy wrinkled her nose, but took the nearly-empty carton of milk when he handed it to her.
“This expires today,” she said.
“Good thing you’re going to use it, then.” Jack shoved the white and pink bag of sugar with a spoon stuck in it toward her.
Addy added what she thought was the smallest amount possible to make the coffee bearable.
“So! Your day off, right? What’s the plan? What do you want to do?”
She looked up at Jack through her thick lashes. God, he was really raring to go.
“Well, I was going to get the groceries. And the bathroom really needs—”
“I was thinking gliding,” he interrupted.
He’d taken the lid off his own coffee and generously sucked down the steaming liquid.
“Gliding,” she repeated.
“Sure! It’s a great opportunity here, I’ve looked into it. And we’ll get a great view of Reno,” he said with a wink.
“Jack, I don’t really have time for—”
“C’mon, we’re newlyweds, aren’t we? Shouldn’t we be putting tons of pictures on Facebook or something? Polluting all our social media channels with happy photos?”
She paused. He had her, there.
What was the point of this whole sham if they weren’t going to really sell it? Who would be jealous of them if all they did was disappear into their jobs?
“Well, I guess. God, how do you have so much energy? When’s the last time you slept?”
He grinned at her but stayed silent. That look made her heart start to beat faster.
“Well?” she asked to fill the silence.
“I just slept seven straight hours in the break room at the hospital. Totally recharged my batteries.”
“You slept there? You didn’t have night rotations? Why didn’t you come home?” It felt alien to say home, but Addy didn’t know how to take it back.
“You miss me?” he asked with a wink.
“No! I just meant—”
“Addy. I know it’s weird to have me sleeping in here. I finished my rotation, it was the middle of the night, and I knew I’d probably wake you up if I came home. There was a bed right there. It’s not like the couch here is the king of comfort, you know.”
“Sorry,” she said, and lowered her eyes.
“Don’t be. So? Gliding?”
“Let me get my camera.”
Addy threw on a pair of jeans, grabbed her purse and DSLR, and shoved her sunglasses on as she swept her hair into a messy ponytail.
Jack held the door of his Jeep open for her—the passenger side was the only part of the car that had some semblance of a door, though it was just a frame.
“Oh, so is this like a real date?” she teased.
He just shrugged and jumped into his side. As they merged onto the highway, the wind and sounds of Tahoe raged against her.
Of all the cars to pick, he had to go with an open Jeep with no top or sides. But she had to admit it fit him. He looks so comfortable like this, wind in his hair, a man in control of his surroundings.
“Care for a detour?” he called to her over the wind.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe a drive by Jeremy’s father’s current construction project? He’s working on it, right?”
“Yeah, how—how do you know that?”
“Not hard to find things out in a small town,” he said, and smiled over at her.
As they approached the site, flaggers pumped their hands at Jack and gestured at him to slow down. Addy spotted Jeremy’s truck immediately, the biggest one on site.
As they crawled by, she saw Jeremy’s broad back. He wore that Metallica t-shirt she’d always hated.
Jeremy felt their eyes on him and turned slowly. The hard hat he wore cast a mean shadow across his face. Addy grinned over at Jack.
“I think it worked,” she said.
“Of course it did, love.”
Jack maneuvered the Jeep up a dirty trail she’d never noticed before. As they climbed to a high point, she saw an unfamiliar Jeep, one with actual doors, and a man with what looked like a strange, supersized paper plane on the cliff.
“What is this, Jack?” she asked nervously. “I thought we were going hang gliding.”
“I never said hang. I said gliding. Like a sailplane.”
“A plane?”
Jack grabbed a small backpack out of the backseat and jumped out. “Coming?” he asked.
She scrambled after him and caught up just as he slapped the glider professional on the back. “Is this, like, skydiving?” she asked. “Like tandem, or whatever it’s called? Are you taking us up?” she asked the man in the official jacket with the “Sail Away” logo.
“Me?” the guide asked. He looked vaguely familiar. Addy was sure they’d probably gone to school together. “I mean, I can. But Jack said—”
“I’m an experienced pilot,” Jack told her. “Done this tons of times, don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” she repeated, incredulous.
“Okay, now, since Jack is licensed and he’s piloting, I just need to go over the basic safety procedures for you, Addy.”
The guide began to tick off his prepared speech, but her heart hammered so heavily in her head she couldn’t digest anything he said. Instead, she took in the glider, aware of how flimsy it looked.
The actual plane part was tiny, and the wings and tail stretched out long and slender. It was like a pretty supermodel version of a plane.
“Got it?”
“Sorry, what?” she asked sheepishly and looked at the guide.
“Just sign the waiver, here, in all the blank boxes.”
She looked to Jack.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Trust me.”
Addy didn’t know wha
t made her do it, but she watched her hand take the pen and signed her life away. She couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to. And she wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.
“These look like paper planes gone wrong,” she said as Jack grabbed her hand and led her to the cockpit.
He laughed, but when she saw how close they had to sit together, her fear began to transition to excitement.
If he’s an experienced pilot, you’re safe. Right?
As they climbed in, she quickly reached for the seatbelt while Jack gave the guide a thumbs up. Addy pulled the camera strap over her neck.
“Ready?” Jack asked. Addy shook her head no, but Jack started the winch and almost immediately they were off the ground.
“Oh my God,” she said as she watched the ground disappear below them. “This thing goes fast.”
She gripped the edge of her seat.
Jack laughed. “Relax!”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
Still, after a couple of minutes, it was clear that he really did know what he was doing. The way he expertly guided the glider put her at ease—or as much as could be expected.
“Wow. It really is beautiful,” she said under her breath. She’d never seen her small town like this before. Slowly, Addy lifted her camera and began to take photos.
“You know, the first time I was in a glider? I was just a kid. My dad took me up. Been addicted ever since,” Jack said. “I even thought about being a pilot.”
“I thought you were,” she said, and shot him a look.
“You know what I mean. A commercial pilot.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Eh, you know how it is. Lawyer or doctor, those were the only two possible professions approved by the family. Doctor seemed a little more exciting than lawyer.”
“High standards in your family. I’m sure your wife the waitress will fit right in,” she said. Addy meant it as a joke, but knew it didn’t sound that way.
Maybe because you aren’t really joking.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jack said quickly. “I mean, those standards are just for me—”
“You know, I like this a lot more than flying in real planes,” she said, eager to change the subject.
Inside, though, she thought: what do you mean those standards are just for you?