by Tasha Black
“You don’t even have a website,” he said gently.
Several expressions flitted across her face in rapid succession. At first she looked angry, then horrified.
Then she began to laugh.
It was a deep, belly laugh and it was infectious. Jack joined her immediately, already thinking of how much he would love to hear the sound again.
“Sorry, I haven’t been super friendly,” she said after a moment. “I’m just… not really a people person.”
“I’m getting that,” he teased.
“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me,” she told him.
“I appreciate the opportunity,” he told her honestly.
She smiled, a sincere and beautiful expression that made her dark eyes crinkle up at the corners.
Jack felt something bubble up and spill over in his heart, like one of his mom’s batches of apple pie filling left on the stove too long.
The bell jingled, breaking the spell of the perfect moment, and Rachel headed back through the curtain to her next customer.
8
Rachel
Rachel spent the rest of the day with a lightness in her heart.
She told herself it was the result of the encounter with Bill and Emma. But she knew the real reason she felt good was because she had connected with Jack.
Her grandfather would have pointed out that the two events were connected, that good things came in twos. And he would tell her that kindness came back three times over.
But her grandfather was no longer on this earth. And Rachel didn’t quite have the nerve to say it to herself.
Besides, what she had done for Emma and Bill and the little one was no kindness. Rachel had wanted to see that diamond on that woman’s finger, glowing like a firefly, a symbol of the true love she could see clinging to the three of them like a summer mist from the moment they walked in her door.
Rachel had wanted it for herself as much as she wanted it for them, and that was that. A diamond had gone home to stay, a stone that might be passed down to another generation one day, beloved. She felt as if she had touched infinity.
Every ring in her store was meant for someone, even if they didn’t know it yet. Some of them left her within days of her acquiring them, others took years, but they all went home with someone eventually.
Well, almost all of them.
There was one ring, an antique, rose-cut stone, elegant and understated, that she’d had since the day the store opened. She’d tried it on a few special customers, but had never been able to find the right match for it.
Most jewelers would probably have just had the diamond recut into a more modern shape, but she knew the right person for the ring was out there somewhere. And it wasn’t like she was in a hurry to get rid of it.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of shoppers, mostly looking for Love Charms. She had sold so many by the end of the day her arms ached from carrying the heavy case up and down from behind the counter.
And though the sounds of construction were loud at times, they always grew quieter when she was speaking with someone, save for the steady back-and-forth notes of a manual saw.
Who used a manual saw in this day and age?
She thought about poking her head in to check on progress, but browsers and buyers kept coming in to distract her.
At last it was time to close the shop.
The sounds of construction on the other side of the curtain showed no sign of stopping.
She broke down her cash drawer slowly and found herself dillydallying over the nightly clean up.
She rearranged the front window.
She cleaned the glass cases until they seemed to disappear.
The rip of a manual saw came from behind the curtain once more and she couldn’t resist her curiosity.
“I’m going to head home,” she said as she stuck her head through the curtain.
What she saw made her mouth drop open.
“Oh, hey, Rachel,” Jack smiled. “This was supposed to be a surprise.”
“What is that?” she asked, though she was pretty sure she knew.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But I knew when you had serious customers you wouldn’t want me making too much of a racket. So I started this little project. It’s for your charms.”
The wooden contraption was like a combination between a bookshelf and a Christmas tree.
Jack grinned at her and gave it a push. It spun to reveal round rows of shelves all the way around.
“Wow,” she said.
“I’ve got racks to go in the shelves,” he explained. “They’ll be held down with dowels so you’ll need to use a key to remove those little boxes, but the customers will be able to see them all at once.”
“That’s amazing,” she said, spinning it once for herself.
“I’m glad you like it,” he grinned. “I’m going to stick around and try to finish it up. I was hoping you might have a charm box I could use to measure out the right fittings.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “Hang on.”
She ran back to the counter, unlocked the case and grabbed a charm box without a thought.
Jack was waiting on the other side of the curtain.
It wasn’t until she held it out to him that she saw what it was and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
The glass heart with the hammer in it gleamed and winked in the work lights.
“Wow, they really have one of these for every occasion, don’t they?” Jack mused, studiously not looking at her, for which Rachel was deeply grateful.
He held the little box to a shelf, took the pencil out from its place behind his ear, and began to measure and mark the shelf. He then grabbed a wooden dowel and held it up.
“Can I hold that for you?” Rachel asked.
“Sure, thanks,” he said.
They worked in silence for a few minutes. She held various parts of the shelving while he measured and marked.
She watched while he cut lengths of wood.
He grabbed sand paper and began to smooth down edges while she watched intently.
“You want to try?” he offered.
“Yes,” she said immediately. It looked like a satisfying task, and it reminded her of her grandfather’s carvings.
They sat on the floor across from each other to work.
The wood smelled sweet, and as she sanded the edges it warmed in her hands.
“So, what am I keeping you from?” Jack asked in a friendly way.
“Nothing,” Rachel said immediately. “What do you mean?”
“I just wondered what Rachel DelGato does with her spare time,” he said with a big grin.
“I don’t have a lot of spare time,” Rachel said. “This place is kind of my life.”
“What about your grandfather?” he asked.
He remembered her grandfather.
Twin feelings of happiness and sadness battled in her chest.
“He died a couple of years ago,” Rachel said.
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Jack replied. “He seemed really cool.”
“He was really cool,” Rachel said. “This place is a bit of a tribute to him. At least it was meant to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“He loved the old Pennsylvania fine arts,” Rachel explained. “He did some carving himself. And he crafted some rustic jewelry. Remember the old Art House that used to be in town?”
“The store with all the local water colors and pottery?” Jack asked.
“That’s the one,” Rachel nodded. “He loved that place.”
“He would have loved this place too,” Jack said. “Though he probably would have loved anything you did. You guys were close.”
“How did you know that?”
“You forget, I’m a farm boy,” Jack laughed. “I saw you guys at apple picking every year.”
“You remembered us?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “It’s not every day a hot girl comes to the
farm to pick apples with her grandfather. Besides, you were the only one who ever tipped my little brothers and sisters.”
Rachel swallowed down her reaction to ‘hot girl’ - she’d think that over later. Instead she laughed.
“Those kids worked so hard,” she said. “I can’t really have been the only one who ever tipped them.”
Jack shrugged and grinned at her.
“So what about you, what am I keeping you from?” she asked.
She found herself holding her breath as she prayed that there was no girlfriend.
“You don’t want to know,” he said shaking his head.
“Jealous girlfriend?”
“No, definitely not,” he said, smiling. “No girlfriend. I’ve been spending my evenings trying to land work. Now that I’ve got this gig I can relax for a little while.”
“And work all night?” Rachel indicated the project.
“It’s better than going home alone,” he replied. “Geez, that sounded pathetic. I just mean that I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m renting an upstairs room from someone over on Harvard. I don’t dare make a sound, so it can get kind of boring.”
Rachel thought of the gentle giant in front of her, tiptoeing around on the third floor of one of the old Victorians on Harvard Avenue and laughed out loud.
“Thanks a lot for your sympathy,” he teased.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just a funny image.”
“No,” he shook his head with a look of mischief in his eyes. “I think you’re as cold as they say.”
Rachel was surprised to feel tears prickling her eyes.
“Whoa,” Jack said at once. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was only teasing.”
“It’s fine,” she said, wiping the tears away with her arm and getting up hurriedly. “I’m just going to head home. I’ve got an early day tomorrow and…”
But she didn’t get to finish her lie. Because Jack Harkness had put his arms around her and suddenly nothing else mattered.
She turned back to him and their bodies moved instinctively, his hand cupping her cheek, hers sliding up his muscular chest.
9
Jack
Jack Harkness was in a living fantasy.
Rachel moved in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest as he cradled her cheek in his hand. She felt like heaven.
He leaned down and kissed her with a slow confidence he didn’t think he’d ever have when it came to his high school crush.
His wolf urged him on, prodding him to claim her, but he felt no urgency. Something about the moment felt… fated. There was no need for him to rush.
Rachel kissed him back tentatively at first, then with a growing passion.
He found himself pressing her up against the wall. He wanted to feel her soft curves submit to his muscles. He wanted to feel everything, to occupy her completely. When she breathed, he wanted his own chest to rise.
She made a small sound of surprise, but didn’t break their kiss.
Jack nearly groaned when he felt her press her breasts more firmly to his chest, her arms twining around his neck as if she craved even closer contact.
He kissed his way down her jaw, nuzzled her hair.
“Where do you live?” he whispered.
He wanted her so much - he was ready to take her here and now. But he couldn’t lay her down in this dusty cavern. He needed to treat her like the treasure she was.
“Upstairs,” she whispered back.
At first he didn’t understand and then his lust-addled brain put it together.
Rachel owned the building, and she lived in the apartment upstairs.
Thank god.
She led him back to the shop and behind another curtain he had never noticed. She began to climb a spiral stair and he followed, hypnotized by the sight of her hips swaying alluringly as she climbed.
He heard the click as she flipped a switch and the whole place was filled with soft light.
The apartment was not large, but the lack of interior walls made it feel spacious. Strands of fairy lights were hung around the whole place. They ran from the cozy living room, which held two walls of built-in bookcases and window seats, back to the small old-fashioned kitchen with its hanging pot rack. Though tiny, the kitchen was used regularly. Jack could smell the faded scents of baking and coffee.
In the far right corner, two little tables flanked Rachel’s bed. One held, predictably, a precarious stack of books. The other held a basket of yarn with knitting needles sticking out.
The furnishings were simple but interesting. Jack got the idea that Rachel had picked up or inherited items here and there, it didn’t feel as if she’d been to a shop to purchase matched sets.
He was surprised to be hit with a wave of sentimentality.
Then he realized what this place reminded him of. Though it was a tiny apartment in the heart of the village, it had the feel of the sprawling Harkness farmhouse.
Rachel was watching him look around. The expression on her face was wary, though he wasn’t sure why.
“This is nice,” he told her.
She relaxed immediately. “It’s not fancy, but it’s home.”
“I don’t like fancy,” he told her.
Moonlight was streaming in the windows, pouring in the skylight above.
Jack’s wolf was nosing at him, groaning for the female they both wished to claim. Jack resisted, but the moon was pulling at the wolf, dragging him inexorably to the surface.
“Would you like something to drink?” Rachel asked politely, unaware of the struggle happening inside the man before her.
He shook his head, moved toward her. Stalked toward her, or so it felt. He wasn’t sure who was in charge in his head right now, the man or the beast.
Her pouting lips parted in slight surprise.
But she was not afraid. The wolf was close enough now that his superior senses told him she wanted him.
He wrapped his hand around hers and led her to the bed.
She followed without resistance.
When they reached the nook that held her bed, he spun her toward him.
“I-I don’t do this very often,” she stammered, suddenly shy.
Fury boiled in his chest and he spoke without thinking, his voice rough, almost cruel. “How many men have you brought here?”
“None,” she said softly. “I mean, I’ve been with a man, but I’ve never brought anyone here but you.”
The wolf strutted proudly in his chest, marking his turf.
Jack slid a finger under her chin, tilted her lovely face up.
“I’m glad,” he told her, then bent to kiss her again as he unbuttoned her shirt, slid it off her shoulders.
She wiggled to help him. Her breasts bounced against his chest and he had to bite back another groan.
He slid a finger under her bra, flicking the clasp open easily.
She laughed against his mouth.
“What’s so funny,” he growled playfully, as he knelt to remove her jeans.
“You’re so slick,” she said, but her voice had gone all breathy again and her hips were trembling between his hands.
He butted his head into her navel, gripping her and praying for the strength to go slowly enough that he could bring her pleasure.
Her hands drifted down to slide through his hair, her nails grazing his scalp so lightly.
He tucked his fingers under the waist of her satin panties and slid them down, down, down.
“Jack,” she whispered.
He couldn’t answer - her scent was too intoxicating. He froze where he was, his lips pressed to her belly, his cock stiff and pulsing against her leg in helpless excitement.
“You don’t have to…” she began.
But he was going to.
Her words trailed off as he pressed her calves apart.
She complied, widening her stance.
Jack leaned close, nuzzled her curls, and then extended his tongue for a taste of paradise.
Rachel gasped, he
r fingers tightening in his hair as her thighs trembled.
Jack smiled against her opening and then pulled away to stand before her.
“Lie down,” he told her.
She blinked up at him as if she were in a daze.
He led her to the bed and motioned for her to crawl in.
She did as he showed her and he wished for better light as he watched her soft curves stretch and compress to comply.
He fell on her, cupping her cheek in his hand again, kissing her sweet lips, loving the way her hips tilted up to him, the way her bare belly felt against his jeans.
Jack wanted nothing more than to strip and bury himself in her. But they were already going too fast.
He had no idea what this was for her. Maybe she thought this was a one-night stand.
But for Jack it was love. And he would not rush it.
Rachel whimpered and sank her nails into the flesh of his back.
The wolf roared in response.
The woman beneath him was trembling with need. Everything in him demanded that he satisfy her.
He lay on his side, stroked his hand from her cheek down her chest as he kissed her.
Then he kissed his way down her jaw to her tender neck and let his mouth follow the path of his hand, to her breasts.
They were small and firm with nipples like rubies. He nuzzled them, then licked one into his mouth.
Rachel’s mouth formed an “o” and slid her hand into his hair again.
He nibbled and sucked gently, first one and then the other, back and forth until he felt her hips lifting slightly.
He kissed down her belly then gently pressed her thighs apart with his hands.
When she opened herself to him, his wolf howled inside.
He moved between her legs and began to kiss her inner thighs.
Rachel tossed and whimpered.
“Easy, baby,” he told her. “I know what you need.”
Then he was tasting her again.
The rich flavor of her was addictive and he never wanted it to end. He lapped and sucked at her tender flesh as she writhed and cried out.
His own body was frantic to claim her.