Constellation

by Jennifer Locklear

  I nodded and he approached me.

  Jack held the towel out, his dark eyes insistent. “Please stay for breakfast. I’ll cook and inform my daughter we have a houseguest. You can take a shower or a bath, whichever you prefer. Take your time. Join us when you’re ready. Share a meal with us, and then we’ll go from there,” he said with a voice thick with kindness.

  Jack was a master at closing deals, and I was an easy sell. After the incredible, unexpected night we’d spent together, I was frantic at the thought of all our progress unraveling in the light of day. It wasn’t usually in me to acquiesce, but Jack Evans was not your usual man.

  “A shower and a meal would be nice,” I confessed.

  He smiled with more than a hint of shyness. “Great. I’ll let you get started.”

  I accepted the proffered towel as he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. My body tingled under the sensual touch of his lips.

  “Take your time,” he repeated in a whisper, his warm mouth against my skin.

  The words were still deliciously caressing my face as he retreated from the room.

  FOR THE second time that morning, I wandered into Jack’s bathroom in a stupor. My head spun as I tried to reconcile the aloof man I woke up to with the one who just offered me breakfast. His behavior this morning and the evening before, for that matter, was not what I was accustomed to from Jack Evans.

  Bringing myself back to reality, I glanced between the large Jacuzzi tub and the impressive walk-in shower. I was so tired and emotional that making a simple choice between the two options proved difficult. The thought of a bubble bath was tempting, but one look around the man’s bathroom told me the essential soaps would be difficult to come by. The tub would take a while to fill and much longer to enjoy. With Jack’s daughter moving about, time wasn’t on my side. So I peered into the stone tiled space and decided the chrome, square, rainfall shower head would suffice.

  After turning on the water, steam drifted through the room. I inhaled in anticipation and the all-consuming eagerness to surrender myself to the moment surprised me. I removed my shirt and panties and dropped them to the bathroom floor.

  I adored hot showers and smiled as I remembered how an irate former lover informed me that my showers were hot enough to boil a lobster. Early in my love life, I realized my preference for such showers ensured I would take them alone. That was fine with me, and this particular morning was no exception. I needed a few minutes to collect myself.

  After testing the temperature with my fingers, I stepped into the shower and immersed myself under the rhythmic pulse of water. I moaned as my skin absorbed the heat, noting but not caring how the sound approximated that of my orgasms the night before. The shower was that damn good.

  As if to entice me further, the subtle scent of Jack’s soap drifted up from the shower. With delight, I picked up the round white bar, cupping it with both hands, and held it underneath my nose. After taking a deep whiff of its honeyed fragrance, I guided it along my body, to explore as much of my skin as possible. Soon, the essence of that gorgeous man surrounded me and I was aroused once more.

  In that glorious moment of total privacy, there was one thought I could not deny. Sex with Jack had been surreal, yet magnificent. As I washed with his soap, I grew intoxicated by the combination of the vivid memory of our connected bodies and the lingering sense of his touch inside the most intimate part of my being. Although the overall effect was heady, an uncharacteristic calmness swept through me.

  I relaxed my muscles, closed my eyes and let my head droop until my chin brushed the top of my chest. Then despite my better judgment, I thought less about the sex and more about the man.

  What had taken place the night before was all so complicated, and yet it wasn’t. There was no doubt my mind would be spinning for some time. The morning before, I would’ve never guessed we’d end up as lovers by the end of the day. Now, there was no way for me to know if we would remain lovers once I left his house.

  The thought of losing whatever this was between us weighed heavy on my mind. I shook my head and sighed, pushing the debilitating consideration as far away as possible. Easier said than done. I fell into a trance, playing through several potential scenarios of what could develop once I left the sanctuary of Jack’s bedroom. My fears ran unchecked, and I hid inside the shower until the water turned cold, forcing me to give up my temporary haven.

  AS I emerged from the bathroom, a series of rapid knocks, once again, sounded on the bedroom door. Figuring that Jack had already mentioned the houseguest to his daughter, I decided to take the risk.

  “Yes?” At best, my voice was timid and I flinched at the sound of it.

  “Can I come in?” Heide asked.

  I was clad in just my towel and still dripping from the shower, but I answered in a most unexpected way.

  “Um. Sure. Hold on a sec though.”

  “Okay.”

  I patted my skin dry and pulled most of my clothes back on before turning my attention to the bed. Jack’s stubborn cat still occupied the corner as I threw the blankets over my side. It was a desperate attempt to make it appear as though the only person to have slept there was her father. Lacking the time to bother with my stockings and garter belt, I stashed them underneath a pillow.

  Satisfied with the appearance of both the bed and myself, I said, “Come in.”

  Before I finished speaking the words, the door flew wide open and stopped just short of hitting the wall. I was unprepared for the energetic blond-haired girl who crawled into the room on her hands and knees, and sported her father’s huge grin.

  “Hi,” she greeted me while performing a somersault.

  “Hello.” My tone was cautious as Jack’s cat scampered from the bed and bolted into the hallway.

  “I want to hang out here for some reason,” she announced after popping back up on her feet.

  “Ah,” was my less than clever response.

  “It’s a quiet space. I can read in here.” She was searching for a valid reason to linger in her father’s room, so I decided not to point out the fact she wasn’t carrying a book.

  “I’m hungry. Are you hungry for breakfast?” Heide stopped moving and tilted her head to the side, much like her father did earlier in the morning.

  I nodded. “I think your dad is making breakfast. At least that’s what he told me.”

  “He was, but now he’s on the phone. With Craig.”

  I paused, allowing myself to imagine Jack’s phone conversation with Creepy Craig.

  “Oh,” I muttered.

  “Yeah. He’s going to be a while.” I grinned at her quick and accurate assessment of the situation.

  “My name is Heide,” she told me.

  “That’s a great name. Much better than mine.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Kathleen.”

  “Hmm.” Heide’s response was noncommittal and I adored it. It was an avoidance tactic Jack had used on several occasions at the office.

  “What do you make for breakfast?”

  I shrugged and frowned. “I’m not good at making breakfast,” I admitted. “I just pick something up at Dutch Bros.”

  Heide scratched her head. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a coffee place.”

  “Oh.” Heide furrowed her brow in confusion. “You don’t go to Starbucks?”

  “No,” I confessed and shook my head. “I don’t like Starbucks.”

  “My dad loves Starbucks. We go there.” She looked out the door and down the hallway before making a confession of her own. “But I don’t like it either.”

  I did my best to stifle a laugh before saying, “You should ask him to take you to Dutch Bros.”

  Heide thought about this before responding, “Okay.”

  Jack’s voice interrupted our banter. “All right, Craig. Listen, I have some breakfast to cook. We can finish this discussion on Monday.”

  Heide and I glanced at one another in mutual understanding while Jack fini
shed up his phone call.

  “Have a good weekend, Craig. Bye.”

  “Never mind. My dad can get us breakfast now. Bye.” Heide bounded out as quickly as she had somersaulted in.

  As soon as Heide disappeared, my thoughts drifted to Jack’s conversation with Creepy Craig. Craig had never had the balls to call me on a Saturday morning over anything. Robert would have—

  Oh shit!

  “Damn it!” I dashed around Jack’s bed. Picking up his tablet, I was dismayed by the time on the display screen. Robert was expecting me for breakfast and I’d forgotten about him. But it was far too late. Robert would be pissed by now. He’d demand an explanation and there was no way he could know I’d spent the night with Jack. It would make things worse between us. The thought would infuriate Robert, which meant I would need to ask Jack for his silence even though he had just told me he would inform Heide’s mother of our situation.

  I remained rooted to the spot, pondering what to do next. Unsure and nervous, my stomach twisted into knots so tight that I was sure eating anything would prove impossible. I was overtaken by a compulsion to freshen my breath, and given a task by my useless and dazed brain, I turned on my heel and went in search of Listerine.

  A few minutes later, I squared my shoulders and entered the hall, more or less ready to see what else the Evans house had to offer me.

  I managed to walk all of three steps before Heide jumped out in front of me from the doorway located next to her father’s bedroom. I stopped in my tracks to avoid running into her.

  “I just read Can It Rain Cats and Dogs?” she announced with enthusiasm. “It can’t really. But it can rain fishes and frogs,” she concluded before bolting back into her room.

  WHEN I entered the kitchen, Jack was busy at the stove. He smiled and pointed to the chrome Keurig gourmet coffee maker on the counter. One glance at the machine, and I understood I was out of my element when it came to Jack’s cooking skills. Here was a shining example of how he was an actual adult while I was still trying to find my own place at the grown-ups’ table.

  “I started some coffee for us. I assume that’s what you’re drinking in those windmill cups. Starbucks okay?”

  Ugh.

  “That’s fine,” I fibbed, not wanting to insult my sexy host. “Thank you.”

  With caution, I took a seat at the breakfast bar and watched Jack assemble and prepare several ingredients by the stove: olive oil, mushrooms, onion, green pepper, ham, egg whites and rye bread.

  “I’m making omelets. Heide has a soccer game later this morning so I need to fuel her up.”

  Despite my certainty I wouldn’t be able to eat a thing, Jack’s choice of breakfast was perfect. “Sounds good.”

  “I hope Denver omelet is all right. It’s her favorite and I need her to eat.”

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  “I make a sandwich out of it to make it more appealing to Heide, but it’s healthier than it looks.” Jack winked and I all but combusted, watching the man in action.

  Each movement he made was effortless and self-assured, and as he worked with the various ingredients, his forearms held a newfound fascination for me. No one had ever made breakfast more alluring.

  My mouth salivated, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the aroma of the food or the man cooking it. “I can’t wait to try it,” I managed to utter.

  As Jack poured our coffee, a rush of discomfort invaded my heart. I was still confused about his earlier behavior in the bedroom and feeling guilty about my reaction to it. The pained look on his face when he brought me a towel was now seared in my memory. Probably forever. Several minutes later, he was preparing me fresh coffee (albeit Starbucks) and a nutritious, homemade meal. I was at a loss. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Cream? Sugar?” Jack’s continued good manners interrupted my brooding.

  “Cream is fine. No sugar,” I answered, knowing I needed to say so much more. I waited until Jack set the cup in front of me and then made eye contact.

  “I’m sorry,” I began. “I’m a bit of a mess this morning.”

  His gaze roamed over my face and hair, and he broke out into a spectacular smile, exposing his dimples. Jack’s brown eyes were as soft and warm as his voice. “I didn’t notice.”

  Jack’s comment told me one thing. He’d misunderstood me. Before I could correct him, however, he went back to cooking. I rolled my eyes in frustration, sensitive to the fact that I was wearing no cosmetics. My hair was dry but untamed, and I was also wearing yesterday’s clothing.

  Sure, Jack. Sure you didn’t notice.

  Irritated, I sat back and sipped my coffee, savoring the warmth but not the taste.

  A random laugh emitted from his daughter’s bedroom, prompting me to change the subject.

  “How does Heide like soccer?”

  His back to me, Jack kept his attention focused on his cooking. “Well enough. She has a lot of fun. She’s no all-star, but I enjoy watching her out on the field.” There was a hint of laughter in his answer.

  I smiled. “She found me and introduced herself while you were on the phone with Craig.”

  Jack glanced at me but didn’t appear concerned. “Oh? How did that go?”

  “Fine, I think. She knocked on the door, and I made sure things were decent before I let her in.”

  Jack nodded, then focused on the stove. “Good.”

  My brow furrowed at his one word response. Did Jack mean it was good that Heide and I had hit it off without a hitch? Or was it good that I had hidden evidence of my sleeping in his bed? A small part of me wanted to ask for clarification, but the larger part of me was terrified of Jack’s answer.

  “What did Craig want?”

  Jack shrugged, but with his back to me I couldn’t read his expression. “The usual.”

  “How did he manage to get your number?” I was legitimately curious.

  “A few have asked for it. He was one of them. Little did I know what trouble I was asking for there.”

  That was an understatement. “You’re nice. I don’t give out my number.”

  Jack turned. “Not even to Robert?”

  At the mention of Robert’s name, my mood sunk even lower.

  “He’s the exception to the rule,” I mumbled, taking another sip and looking away from the sensual chef at work.

  After a few moments of silence, Jack prepared a plate and set it down in front of me.

  I glimpsed up at him in surprise. “Don’t you want Heide to eat first?”

  He shook his head. “The game isn’t for a couple of hours yet. These days, enjoying breakfast with other adults is a rarity.”

  Jack retreated from the breakfast bar and opened the silverware drawer.

  “Are you sure?” I asked as he offered me a knife and fork.

  He gestured to my plate with a nod. “It will give us a few minutes of quiet time.”

  As Jack prepared his own food, I sliced my sandwich into smaller sections and took my first bite. “Oh. Wow,” I uttered, my mouth still full. “This is delicious.”

  Jack sat down next to me, satisfied and unsurprised by my reaction. His confidence in the kitchen was evident. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

  I wiped my lips with a napkin before speaking again. “You need to teach me how to cook.”

  What did I just say?

  I paused, sheepish. “Sorry. That was presumptuous of me.”

  “Not at all,” he answered, primed to take his first bite. “You don’t cook?”

  “Not much,” I said with embarrassment. “It’s just me. I’m too lazy to cook for just me.”

  “Didn’t you ever cook for Robert?”

  My hand dropped down in reflex, and my unused fork clattered against my plate. My face tightened as my anxiety crept up another notch.

  Jack paused before mumbling. “Sorry. I was just trying to make small talk.”

  I inhaled and sat up straight, my posture rigid. The tone of my voice was chilled as I responded. “Do you
really want to talk about me and Robert?”

  “Sorry,” he repeated, his expression softening along with his voice. Perhaps he was apologizing for more than just the mention of Robert, but as touchy as the moment was, I decided not to pursue that theory.

  We finished our meal in relative silence, each of us unable to find a way past our most recent exchange. A perfect demonstration of how little we knew each other. As soon as Jack finished his breakfast, he returned to the stove to prepare his daughter’s meal.

  He was the one to break the ice and did so with a surprising declaration. “I was going to ask if you’d like to come to Heide’s game, but I don’t know if that’s something you’d want to do.”

  I was awestruck. Minutes earlier, I’d planned my escape, certain I needed to avoid an argument. Instead, he was treating me so nice. My defenses lowered once again. “That’s sweet of you to ask, but I suspect that my showing up to a little league game in yesterday’s work clothes would send the rumor mill into overdrive. No need to ruin your unblemished reputation in this burg. Besides, knowing my luck I’d run into one of Robert’s friends and neither of us wants that.”

  Jack turned and studied me. I held his gaze, communicating that my remarks were serious.

  “Maybe another time, then.”

  As far as Jack was concerned, he hoped we would have another morning date. I wasn’t sure what to think about the possibility, but appreciated the sentiment.

  “Maybe,” I replied.

  Jack moved back to the breakfast bar and me. He paused across from me, placed his hands on the countertop and leaned forward. I noticed how his chest muscles hardened against the fabric of his shirt, and I couldn’t look away as he addressed the elephant in the room.

  “Was everything all right this morning?”

  I should have brought my eyes up to his, but I was too fascinated by his chest. “What do you mean?”

  “It seemed like you were upset. Or in a hurry. Or both.”

  I shook my head, perhaps with too much adamancy. “Things are fine.”

  I looked up and noticed his expression tighten. He didn’t believe me, but after my appalling behavior throughout the morning, the last thing I wanted to do was complain about rudeness. More than anything, I yearned for the comfort of his arms around me, but knew the time for that had come and gone.