Meet The McIntyres - The Complete Series

by Rebecca Barber

  I think my jaw hit the floor. If it didn’t, gravity wasn’t working properly.

  I knew what it felt like to be wrapped up in Jack’s arms. How protected, how warm he made me feel. But right now the boy, no, no, there was nothing boyish about Jack. He was a man. A very masculine man. One who was right now boiling my blood and dampening my panties. The worst part was he was completely unaware of the affect he was having on me. Well, that and the fact he wasn’t trying. His hair was wet and he was rubbing it with a thick navy towel. Drops of water beaded on his tanned, naked chest, and I watched as they navigated a path through the smattering of dark hair down to the band of his of his deliciously low riding sweatpants.

  “What happened to the pasta?” he asked, dropping the towel on the floor and heading to the stove.

  “What’d you mean?”

  “Where’s the water?”

  “In the pot!” God, boys asked some stupid questions sometimes. Where did he expect the water to be?

  Jack burst into a fit of deep, belly laughter. “How much pasta did you put in?”

  “The packet.” I shrugged.

  “Oh my god!”

  “What!”

  Without even pausing to stop laughing, Jack flicked off the gas and dropped the whole pot into the sink before turning on the tap. “Maybe we’ll just start again.” He bent down, sticking his fine ass up in the air and dug around in the cupboard before coming up with a new, clean saucepan. “Right,” he said, turning towards me and putting his hands on my hips. “You’re going to sit right here while I sort out dinner.”

  “Why?” I pouted, sticking my bottom lip out as far as it would go, trying to make him feel at least a tiny bit guilty.

  “Because for one, you’re the world’s worst cook. And two, you need to tell me what happened yesterday.”

  How the fuck did he know? Which big mouth asshole had blabbed? Jack wasn’t even in town and he hadn’t been to school, so how the hell could he know? My cheeks burned as his stare never left me. Feeling overwhelmed and more than a little embarrassed, I deflected. “I’m not the worst cook!”

  “You burnt pasta!”

  “It’s your fault!”

  “How?”

  “You never said how much to cook!”

  “Right…so it’s my fault then?”

  “Yes! It is.” I was not letting him get the better of me. I folded my arms across my chest, not realising I’d basically just pushed my boobs up on display for him until his eyes narrowed as he blatantly ogled. Traitorous bastards they were too, my nipples pebbled under the scrutiny of his gaze. Feeling yet again out of my depth, I tossed the tea towel at his head, which he caught easily. “Would you put a shirt on already? What do you think this is? Magic Mike’s cooking show?”

  “You wish!” Jack taunted back, not missing a beat as he shook his ass as he crossed the kitchen and vanished around the corner.

  Feeling way too warm, I grabbed an empty glass from the drainer on the sink, filled it with water straight from the faucet, and guzzled it greedily. Standing in front of the window, I looked across the yard. Jack really did live in a beautiful house. The view across the yard was filled with flowers every colour of the rainbow. But it was beyond it that really captured me. The night was quickly approaching and the inky black backdrop was dotted with a million tiny stars. I found myself staring out, wondering if anyone actually had counted them. Sometimes I have really stupid thoughts.

  “That better, Princess?” Jack asked, sauntering back in a white shirt that pulled tightly across his chest. Now that I knew what lay beneath the soft cotton shirt, I couldn’t unsee it. Even if I wanted to, it wasn’t something I was likely to forget in a hurry. Or ever.

  “Much!” I lied quickly. I don’t think Jack bought it, but he was gentleman enough not to mention it.

  “So…start talking.”

  He added some pasta, just a small amount, before turning to face me, leaning back against the sink. Taking my time, I fumbled my way back onto the stool and sat down. “About what?”

  “Let’s start with the black eye! Whose ass am I kicking?”

  I giggled and it felt good. I had no doubt in my mind that Jack could kick anyone’s ass, but the fact he thought he needed to made my heart soar. “Don’t be silly. It was an accident. And if you knew me, you’d know shit like this happens to me all the time.”

  “Shit like two black eyes? Geez, Hols, you look like a damn panda!”

  “It was just a stray football to the face. No harm. No foul.”

  “No harm? Looks pretty painful from where I’m standing.”

  “I had a bit of a headache but I’m fine now.”

  “Liar.”

  “Am not!” I protested quickly. I hated being called a liar. I did have a headache but physically I was fine. Emotionally I was more fucked up than anyone could imagine, but Jack didn’t need specifics. He didn’t deserve to know that. I wasn’t his problem to solve.

  “Anyway,” he seemed bored by my answer. If he was letting me off the hook, I was happy with that. Grabbing the plastic container of pasta sauce from the microwave I immediately noticed my next mistake. I heard myself praying Jack didn’t notice, but it was pretty hard to miss. In my enthusiasm to get the sauce defrosted, I may have half melted the container. One end was about half the height of the other. Undoubtedly, I’d ruined the sauce as well.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Shit!”

  Jack yanked open the bin and tossed the whole thing in, container and all. If I hadn’t felt like shit before, now I really did. I hadn’t meant to ruin his dinner. Silently I slipped off the stool as I watched Jack tug violently on the ends of his hair. Obviously, he was trying to channel his frustrations into something other than screaming at me. As quiet as a mouse I tip-toed down the hall, careful not to bump into anything as I passed and slipped out the back door. I wasn’t going to fuck anything else up today. I’d wait for Gage in the car. Maybe if I sat in the back, I couldn’t break anything else.

  I made it all the way to the car. I was almost free and clear. Almost.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jack’s booming voice rang out over my shoulder. I didn’t need to turn around to know Jack was hot on my tail and he was livid. I could feel the frustration radiating off his body.

  Biting down on my lip, I tasted blood. I wished I was surprised the metallic taste was there. Chewing on the inside of my lip, biting off the soft skin there had become just another one of my nasty habits. Forcing myself, I shuffled around and came face to face with him. As soon as I had, I wish I hadn’t. Those damn puppy dog eyes dominated his face, stealing the attention from his clenched jaw.

  “I-I…was-just-going-to-wait-in-the-car,” I blurted out without taking a breath.

  Jack raised his arms above his head and laced his fingers behind his head. I felt the sigh he let out as his warm breath fluttered the wispy hairs around my face. The groan he let out was deep and guttural, and it intimidated the shit out of me.

  “You were going to wait in the car? Really Holly? You burnt dinner and you run away? What did you think I was going to do?”

  I don’t know. I really had no idea what I thought. What was I supposed to think? Standing there in the dark, my back pressed against the cold metal car door, Jack was pissed at me. It was a feeling I didn’t like. Not one little bit. It was a bit like being trapped.

  “Um.”

  “Nup. Not enough.”

  What did he want from me. Seriously? I had nothing to give him. I was beyond tired. My eyes were tired, my head pounding, and my heart racing. Today had been one of the most intense days I could remember. Even more so than the day my brothers showed up at the hospital. At least then I could close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.

  Bone weary tired, I sighed heavily as I slumped back against the door. Over my shoulder I could hear people barking directions. Something was going on, thankfully though I was far enough away that I was safe. At least from them. Looking
up at Jack, I swallowed the lump which had mysteriously formed in my throat and found myself second guessing my safety.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “What do I want from you? Come on, Holly. You’re a smart girl. What do you think?”

  Now I was afraid. No, not afraid. Petrified. I’d been in some pretty fucked up situations in the past, most of them too recently for my liking, and now I was about to end up in another. I wondered quickly if Gage could get to me if I screamed. Would he even care enough to try? Today had been hard on me, but you didn’t have to be an idiot to know it had been even harder on my brothers. Sure, they acted big and tough, and liked to pretend they were bullet proof, but it was all bullshit. Every. Single. Breath. They were marshmallows, and today…today I’d melted them. I only hoped tomorrow the big, brash, annoying brothers I knew and loved would be back.

  “J-J-Jack.” My plea came out more as a whimper. I wanted to back away but the cold metal of the truck door I was cowering against was a reminder I wasn’t going anywhere.

  He looked over my shoulder at the escalating commotion before turning his attention back to me. A shiver raced down my spine and covered my skin in goose pimples. With a smirk playing on his lips, Jack bent forward at the waist and dug his shoulder into my stomach before tossing me over his shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes. I squealed like a banshee and tried to thrash about, but with Jack’s strong arm wrapped around my thighs like a steel band, his step didn’t falter as he carried me towards the house while I batted my hands on his butt.

  “Jack…put me down!” I begged, tears filling my eyes. I willed them away. With everything I had, I prayed they’d dry up. If past experience had taught me anything, tears only made them madder. Pausing from my swatting of Jack’s back and ass, I swiped away the tears and sucked in a deep breath. I trusted him. I trusted him and this is how he repaid me. Hadn’t I been through enough? What did I do to deserve this?

  As Jack climbed the steps, he didn’t even slow carrying my weight. Fighting seemed futile. I’d misjudged him from the start. I thought he was good guy, decent even. A nice guy. Shows just how fucked up my judgement was. Give him a chance and he was just as bad as the rest. Maybe worse. Worse because he pretended to care. Even if it was all fake. Turning in the hallway, I saw the empty kitchen and I could smell the disgusting burning smell of the plastic. My fault. Everything these days was my fucking fault.

  “Please, Jack. Please don’t do this,” I whimpered. I couldn’t help it. It was a human response. The tears came again, harder this time, and I didn’t even bother trying to wipe them away. If Jack wanted to put me through this, whatever the fuck this even was, then he deserved to see the pain he was inflicting. Why should I try to protect his feelings?

  A moment later I was bouncing on his shoulder as he climbed the set of stairs. I couldn’t believe this was really happening. Not again. Not after everything else. Everything I told him. A door banged as it was kicked open and then I was flung through the air. I would have been impressed by Jack’s sheer brute strength if I wasn’t already disconnecting my mind from my body. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be here. Even if physically I had no choice, emotionally I was checking out.

  I landed with a bounce. Squeezing my eyes shut I hoped that the moment I opened them, this would all be nothing but a bad dream. One I’d wake up from any minute. I heard the click of the door as I was surrounded in a manly scent. It was an odd combination of sweat and cinnamon and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open and looked around me. My nightmares were confirmed. I was lying across the middle of a huge bed, covered in a dark navy comforter. Jack was leaning against the closed door, his arms folded over his wide chest. There was no way I was getting past him. Stealing a glance at the window, I wondered how much it would hurt to jump. Would it be worth it? I wasn’t ready to discount the idea just yet.

  It was a typical boy’s room, really. Growing up with four brothers meant nothing in here really surprised me. Dirty clothes in piles on the floor. Abandoned shoes stinking up the place. A couple of empty water bottles on the bedside table and a magazine sticking out from under the bed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what sort of magazine it was, but I had no intentions of pulling it out to take a closer look. Talk about ew!

  Steeling my resolve, which was all one hundred percent fake, I sat up and stared at Jack. If he was going to do this, if he was going to go there, then he’d have to do it knowing who he was doing it to and the damage he was causing. “What do you want from me, Jack?” I asked as bravely as I could. I hated that my voice wavered, revealing my anxiety.

  Dropping his arms, Jack stalked towards me. The bewildered look on his face threw me completely off balance. For someone who’d just manhandled me and carried me up the stairs before unceremoniously dumping me on his bed, he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me. In fact, the pained expression on his face was quite the opposite. Like I was hurting him. Just trying to decipher this was giving me a headache.

  “Nothing, Holly. I don’t want anything from you. Not one thing.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Oh.” As disappointment flooded me, I found myself even more confused. Why was I disappointed by this? Really? Didn’t that mean I was safe? Damn, I was fucked up. These days I couldn’t even tell which way was up.

  “Well, that’s not entirely true,” Jack sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed beside me. I held my breath and waited for him to touch me. My leg was right there. All he had to do was stretch out his long fingers and he’d be touching my thigh. Instead he reached for my hand and clasped it between his own sweaty palms. “I want you to tell me what happened to you.”

  Where. The. Fuck. Did. That. Come. From?

  Like seriously! Was he for fucking real? I’m sitting here having complete heart failure that yet another asshole is going to put me through hell, and he completely blindsides me with his tender words. The way my hand felt in his, warm and safe, was making me dizzy.

  “Jack…” His name on my lips was full of warning. He might think he wants to know, he might even believe he needs to, the truth was though, he was better off in the dark. Nothing he would learn would help him. And it sure as shit wouldn’t help me. “Don’t make me do this. Please.”

  Pulling me against him, Jack held me close. I was shocked at how easily he moved me around. Almost like I weighed nothing at all. That was nowhere near the truth. Between my fat ass and thunder thighs, I was no lightweight. When his hands cupped my cheeks, all the fight evaporated. I just couldn’t do it. I had to give Jack everything he wanted. He was a miracle man, this one. He possessed some strange magical power which entrapped me and made me want to spill my deepest, darkest secrets. My only fear, my greatest fear, was would he still be able to look at me once everything was out in the open?

  “You really want to know?” The way he was looking at me gave me something. I wasn’t sure if it was the confidence to expose it all or if it was simply wishful thinking. Honestly, I was too emotionally drained to give it too much attention.

  “Yeah, Holly, I really do.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jack

  Holy shit!

  I can’t believe I’d somehow convinced her to tell me what the fuck was going on. All of it. I don’t know how I did it or what I’d said, but I couldn’t turn back now. This was going to hurt like a bitch. Probably more than the time I got kicked in the balls playing football. The desire to run and not look back was more inviting than ever, but this whole thing was on me. I was the one who pushed her to open up. To trust me enough to take the leap. The least I could do was be there, arms wide open, ready to catch her if she needed me.

  Without a word she rose from my bed, a sight that normally would have had my pants tightening—I mean a hot chick all flushed and rumpled on my bed—but thankfully tonight my body was behaving. Holly found her feet and toed off her shoes. I had
no clue what she was doing, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. She was going through the motions. Instead, I leant back against the door and buried my hands in my pockets. Hopefully, if they were tucked away tight, I’d be able to control the urge to comfort her. To hold her. To wipe away the inevitable tears. Tugging at the comforter, Holly wrapped herself up like a burrito and shuffled towards the window.

  My bedroom was one of those weird ones with a bay window. In the nook Mum had insisted on years ago, was a bench seat complete with a million different shaped cushions piled on it. In the beginning I’d fought against it, reminding her that I was a guy and pretty pillows didn’t do shit for me, in the end though, it wasn’t worth the fight. Instead I sucked it up and now had a window seat full of blue cushions. At least they weren’t pink. Shuffling across the floor, Holly knocked them to the floor without even noticing. Already I hated this. It was like the Holly I’d met, the snarky, sassy Holly had disappeared right before my eyes. Replaced by this zombie version. One I was not a fan of.

  It took a few minutes, minutes that felt like an eternity, or maybe it was my own anxiety that was drawing out time, but Holly settled, hugging the blanket even tighter around her shoulders as she stared out the window into the darkness.

  “I thought it was a prank.” Her voice was soft and distant. With slow, deliberate steps I inched closer, sitting at my desk in the uncomfortable office chair.

  “At first, it was silly stuff, really. My shoes would go missing. My load of whites ended up red. My alarm clock cord kept falling out of the wall socket. Shit that could happen to anyone. Well, anyone with my particular good luck.”

  “What did you do?” I couldn’t help but ask. I had a million questions in my head bouncing about, so I was kinda thankful that it was the only one that slipped out.

  “Checked I wasn’t going insane first.” She offered a half smile. I chose to believe the smile was for me even though her gaze had not once wavered from the nothingness beyond the window. “I couldn’t remember ever owning red socks, so when I found one amongst my clothes I was surprised. Then again, using communal washing machines, it could have been left it there by accident. I bought a new alarm clock. One that had batteries rather than relying on the wall plug. I couldn’t afford to miss another class because I’d slept in. It didn’t help. The alarm still didn’t go off. My clothes started going missing again. Small things at first. Underwear. Socks. I really believed I was going crazy. It took almost a month before I ran out of panties. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t afford more. Things were—well, they were pretty shitty at home. I didn’t need to live there to know that. Connor sent me money when he could, but I couldn’t tell my brothers I was out of underwear. Mum didn’t even seem to remember I existed. And Dad—well, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him. Ever.”