No, we won’t. And if Ash knew the full truth of what went down with Eliza, he’d realise it too. But I can’t tell him. I may have given Damien a black eye, but at least that healed. What they did to me, what Eliza and Damien did, there’s no cure for. I’m fucked up and if I needed any more evidence of that, Coco and Ash’s wedding night delivered it.
I lean out of his embrace. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘What who’s talking about?’
It’s Coco; she’s back. They’re back.
‘Nothing, love. Absolutely nothing.’ Ash pulls his wife into his side and kisses her cheek, his love for her shining in his gaze, and envy is what I feel. Envy that he can love her so easily, without fear, without restraint.
I look to Cait and she’s looking back at me, a strange glint in her eye and so much bubbles up inside, so much that I need to say.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I hear myself ask.
‘How about your finest champagne...since you’re paying.’
Her eyes spark, her sudden smile one of mischief and challenge, and my insides love it; they dance with the flash of character, of her.
The old Cait’s back, she’s really back, and I don’t want her to leave again.
Yes, I’m fucked up. Yes, we cannot be.
But I can’t live without her in my life.
CHAPTER NINE
I’M STILL MAD at Jackson and determined to get us alone together so I can have it out with him. Of course, I am. But right now I’m enjoying this.
The four of us, relaxing in one other’s company, laughing, drinking, having fun, just like old times. Ash has already given up on driving home and we are going for it. Champagne and giggles.
A ripple of laughter rises up inside me and the three of them turn to look at me as I suppress it and end on a hiccup instead.
‘Oopsie!’ I smother my mouth as another giggle-hiccup erupts and my hat slips to the side before righting itself as if by magic... No, not magic. It’s Jackson and he’s looking at me like I’m the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
No, he’s not. That’s the drink talking.
But what if he is looking at me like I’m the cutest thing he’s ever seen?
That’s a good thing, right? A really good thing?
‘Cait!’ I swing my head from Jackson’s sweet expression to focus on Coco, who’s pulling at my hand. ‘We should get going; it’s late and—’
‘No, this is too much fun. It’s been way too long since we’ve done this.’
Ash pulls Coco up against him, his smouldering look as he eyes his wife telling me exactly why they want to get going and why I should let them, but shit, this was just getting interesting. Jackson definitely looked at me like I was cute, and I want to bask in it a little.
‘Don’t be party poopers now. Jackson’s treating us. I say we drink his bar dry and then we go home.’ I giggle and lean into him as I say it, but as soon as the heat of his body reaches me I swing away again. I may be merry, but it doesn’t mean I’ve lost all sight of the danger that lies that way.
‘I’d say two bottles of his most expensive bubbly is enough.’ Ash grins. ‘Not that it’s my drink of choice, but you ladies seem to enjoy it enough.’
‘Hey, I can drink whisky with the best of them.’ As I say it, my words slur and I realise I’m in over my head. Oh, hell. I haven’t been this hammered since...since...who knows.
‘Our car’s ready and waiting, Princess,’ Ash says to Coco, who kisses him back like she could strip him bare any second. They’re so cute and I’m smiling like a soppy loon when she looks back to me.
‘You coming with us, Cait? We can drop you off on the way.’
I raise my brows. ‘You expect me to get in a car with you two like this?’ I wave a finger between them. ‘Na-ah.’
‘What?’ Coco says, but Ash just grins wider.
‘Your husband gets my message.’
‘Well, we’re not leaving without you.’
‘I have a chat I need to have.’ I give an exaggerated wink over the crucial word, reminding her of the little pep talk she gave me in the ladies’ and my intent to continue with that plan.
She frowns, probably thinking I’ve had too many bubbles to do it justice.
‘Chill, Coco, I’ll be fine. Jackson will sort me out, won’t you?’
Jackson’s response is to choke on his champagne and I cringe inwardly—how bloody suggestive!
‘What I mean is, he’ll get me a taxi.’
‘Of course.’ He nods. ‘Taxi. No probs.’
‘See, all fine. Now, go!’
‘Really?’ Coco says, looking at me while Ash nuzzles into her neck and I can’t help laughing.
‘Yes, seriously, go! Before you end up staying here and putting on a performance for the clientele. Unless that’s what you’re going for...’
‘Hell, no!’ That wakes Ash up and he’s already ushering his Mrs Claus out of the booth.
‘Call me, yeah?’ Coco says.
‘Sure.’
We watch them go, neither of us saying a word, and I cough to clear my throat, to force back the thrumming fizzle of heat that is so determined to ignite around Mr Grinch.
‘We should talk,’ he says, and I know he’s turned to look at me but he’s too close like this and I don’t trust my body not to climb him like a man mountain.
A man mountain...
I giggle again, sobering when I remember that talk is exactly what we should be doing. ‘Yes, talk, we must.’
‘Okay, Yoda, you sure you want to talk now? Maybe we should leave it for another day.’
‘Nope.’ I waggle a finger at him. ‘You’re not running away from this again.’
‘I’m not running, Caitlin.’ His eyes stare into mine, all warm and yummy and caring. ‘I mean when you’re not...’ He waves a hand at me but all I can think is that those eyes are definitely telling me I’m cute, really cute, and the warm fuzzies are getting out of hand. ‘Cait?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you...?’ He’s frowning, definitely frowning, and aw, he gets a little dimple in his cheek when he frowns. How have I not seen that before? Wait, there’s two, no...three of them! There’s even three Jacksons...
‘Are you feeling okay, Cait?’
‘The room is kind of spinny...’ Ooh, talking is not good. Not good at all, in fact. ‘I think... I think I might be sick.’
He curses, or at least I think he does, but it’s taking all my effort not to be ill.
‘You can’t get in a car like this.’
‘I’ll be...’ I swallow ‘...fine.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘How novel of you...’ I mumble. ‘Shame you didn’t think that way four months ago.’
I say it super-fast and he tenses up, his mouth a hard line as he rises, but I’m glad I said it. Even if it has made my stomach roll more and I zip my mouth tight as I let him help me out of the booth.
‘You can stay at mine tonight.’
My eyes flick to his, wide. ‘Hell, no.’
‘Hell, yes. I’m not letting you out of my sight.’ He sounds angry. Oh, dear. Angry but protective, and I like the latter...really, really like it. ‘Pippa, can you give me a hand?’
‘Pippa?’ Who’s Pippa?
Pippa appears at my side. Ah, yes, Pippa, the pretty waitress. I smile at her. She’s so lovely. Really lovely. And she has a nice smile which I think I return.
‘Hey, too much festive fun?’ She doesn’t sound angry, not like Jackson.
I walk with her as I giggle my agreement. ‘Maybe just a little.’
‘I’ve got this, boss.’
I look over my shoulder and he’s heading to the bar.
Boo. I don’t want him to go. I’m still angry. Of course I am. But it doesn’t
mean I want him to go.
* * *
This is my fault. Again.
I hated myself before, but now...
I shouldn’t have ordered the second bottle. Hell, I shouldn’t have ordered the first.
But I was selfish, wanting to spend some time together, all four of us, just like how it used to be. To have Caitlin, fun and flirty Caitlin, back, even with the unfinished business hanging between us. It was too nice, too warm, too easy.
Yes, I was selfish and stupid. And now Cait would pay the price. Again.
I stuff my hands deeper into my pockets and stare out at the city streets, still bustling despite the lateness of the hour, and try to lose myself in it. I want to empty my head and ease the heavy weight settling inside me, around me.
‘Boss?’ I spin on my heel to see Pippa walking towards me, her voice whisper-soft. ‘She’s all settled.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine, or at least she will be soon enough.’
I blow out a breath, some of the tension with it. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problemo.’ She gives me a smile that I can’t quite return. ‘Best to keep an eye on her though. She’s not been sick, but she certainly feels it.’
‘I will.’
‘Here are her things.’ She holds out the clothes I hadn’t even noticed, the dizzying green and white mix, and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I recall her in them. The smile dies a swift death as I think of her without them now.
‘What’s she—?’
‘I’ve stuck her in one of your Ts. I figured she’ll sleep better, and you wouldn’t mind.’
‘No, of course not.’ Caitlin in one of my shirts... I’m not sure which is more erotic, naked or—
And you shouldn’t be thinking about it either, not when she’s in the state she is, thanks to good old you.
‘Do you have a bowl to put on the floor next to her? I’ve laid a towel down, but...’
‘Sure, I’ll sort it; you head off.’
‘You gonna be okay?’ The way she’s now frowning at me suggests she’s not referring to the babysitting of a tipsy elf.
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine.’
‘Okay, so long as you’re sure... I can stick around if you want.’
‘No, I’m plenty capable of nursing her back to health.’
She gives a soft laugh as she walks to the door. ‘Nurse Jackson. Suits you, boss.’
‘Very funny, Pippa. Goodnight.’
She grins. ‘G’night.’
She lets herself out and I look to the master bedroom, to the door which she has left ajar, and take a breath.
On the upside, having Caitlin here gives me the chance to apologise. Not now, but in the morning. I didn’t fancy my chances when she was merry downstairs, though I fancy my chances even less with her waking up in my bed sporting a hangover from hell.
I should have let Coco take her home.
And then you’d be running from your mistakes all over again. You owe her more than that.
I find a bowl and take it into the bedroom, my feet slow as I near, careful not to make a sound. And though I know she’s in my bed, in my shirt even, nothing prepares me for the sight of her. She’s heaven and hell in one.
Pippa has left a bedside lamp on low and Cait is turned away from it, her body curled up and facing me. Her hair is swept back from her face, the auburn strands bright against the deep grey of my pillow, her tender lips parted as she breathes softly. Her make-up has been cleaned away and only traces of it exist around her eyes, making them appear darker, more tired, strained, and I blame myself for it.
Blame myself for it all.
I want to stroke her cheek, comb my fingers through her hair, tell her I’m sorry. I want to lie down next to her, offer comfort, support, whatever she may need. I could lose myself in the very idea of it. Fool myself into believing this is the norm—Cait in my bed, a life together. It would be so easy to believe in the fantasy of it. Only I won’t.
I dared to believe in a life like that once and was disabused of it, literally laughed out of it even.
I hunch down to place the bowl on top of the towel Pippa’s already laid out and allow myself a second to listen to the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
‘I’m sorry, Cait.’ I say it quietly as I stand, but it’s loud in the silence of the room and her eyelids flicker as they open.
‘Jackson?’ she murmurs.
I crouch back down. ‘Yes.’
‘Lie with me.’
I’m quiet. I want to, but it doesn’t feel right, not when there’s so much left unsaid.
‘Please.’
Her gentle plea breaks me and I climb in behind her, on top of the covers as I spoon her. She reaches for my arm and pulls it across her with all the grace of an elephant and my lips twitch against her hair.
‘Jackson?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who is she?’
I go very still. I know who she means, but I don’t want to talk about her, least of all with Cait, and least of all now.
‘Who was the blonde?’
I close my eyes and empty my head. ‘No one.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’
She turns, forcing my head to lift as she blinks up at me. Her eyes are damp, her hair sticking to her cheeks, and I tell myself it’s the booze, but I know deep down it’s not.
My chest aches as I brush away the strands. ‘She’s no one to me now.’
‘But she used to be?’
I nod. ‘A long time ago.’
‘Did you love her?’
I look away. ‘She was married to someone else.’
I say it like it’s enough. Enough to condemn me and dismiss Eliza in one.
‘But did you love her?’
‘I thought I did.’
‘Did she break your heart?’
My eyes waver over her face. I take in all that beauty, enchantment and vulnerability, all that my heart truly cares about, and I can’t find my voice.
‘So you can love...’ her eyes flicker closed ‘...you just can’t love me.’
She rolls away, her body curling into a ball, and I feel like my heart is being wrenched from my chest. I want to plead with her, make her realise it’s because I care that I can’t do this with her. I can’t let myself love her and be loved in return.
‘That’s not how it is, Cait. You deserve better.’
‘I don’t want better...’ she murmurs faintly and I know she’s drifting off. ‘I want you.’
My heart rises in my chest, choking up my throat.
I want you.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the urge to take what she’s offering and use it to suffocate the past. To rid me of the bad so I can be a better man. The kind that can treat her how she deserves.
A thousand things rage through my brain—things I should tell her, things I should confess. But I can’t.
I press my lips to her hair, breathe her in one last time and roll away.
I don’t deserve her. I’ll never deserve her. And if I tell her the truth of my past she’ll know it too. I can’t even bring myself to do that.
Proof again that I am selfish, undeserving, and she’s better off without me.
CHAPTER TEN
I WAKE, BUT I don’t want to.
I’m vaguely aware that I don’t remember getting into bed, I’m more than vaguely aware that movement sets my stomach off on a sickly roll. I try to squint but even the low light of the room stabs at my brain and sets off another roll.
I moan and close my eyes, staying very still. Something cold and soothing presses against my forehead and chills my eyes that feel like they’re on fire.
Thank you, Coco.
I relax into the pillow, letting the peaceful darkness take over.
When I wake again there’s the distant sound of music, the smell of...the smell of bacon? Someone’s cooking. But I live alone.
I remember someone taking care of me. I feel the flannel still pressed against my head, only it’s warm now.
I force one eye to open and view my surroundings side on. Okay, my brain drawls...not my bedroom, not Coco’s...not anywhere I recognise. What the—?
I push up to sitting way too fast and my head spins with it. I press my fingers to my lips and hold my breath.
Someone’s slept on the floor next to the bed. A towel and a bowl...for me? I cringe and freak out in an instant. It’s not what I see that tells me whose room this is. It’s the scent. It’s Jackson through and through. Oh, no.
I can’t be in his bed. In his room. In his place!
I try to remember what I can. How I got here. I vaguely remember Pippa. She helped me. But Jackson was with me and then he wasn’t. I don’t remember anything happening. I don’t remember getting out of... My hands clutch my chest as I look down. I’m in his shirt. No remnants of the elf costume, unless you count my thong, which is too negligible and—what the actual...?
I look around the room, at the soothing masculinity of it all, and feel like I’m dreaming, just as I did on the dance floor, against the tree, all those months ago.
But, like then, this isn’t a dream.
In fact, the hangover pounding through my skull, turning my tummy, is nightmare territory. And the fact I can’t remember what happened after the club, I can’t remember what was said. Hell, I can’t remember what happened, not properly, and it’s horrifying.
I know I’m safe though. I may hate Jackson for cutting me off, for treating me like he did, but I trust him. And now I think on it, the person I suspected was Coco during the night, tending to the pounding state that was my head, had to have been him.
The realisation messes me up inside. It makes me think of him looking after me, being the Jackson I’ve known for six years, the one I went to when I had a problem, the one who listened to my rants, my raves. The one I know I’ve fallen for in spite of all he did.
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