by Amanda Dick
“If you’re worried about tomorrow, don’t be.”
The exquisite tenderness in Jack’s expression made her heart sing. He leaned forward and took her ankles in his hands. She watched him run his hands up her calves, trying to mentally substitute the image for the sensation that went along with it. He moved in closer, his hands sliding over her knees and up the outside of her thighs, finally taking her by the waist and pulling her off the step and down into the pool with him.
Breathless, she draped her arms around his neck. The warm water washed over them as he moved them in lazy circles. She was almost afraid to breathe in case she broke whatever spell had been cast over them, the pool fading into the background.
Then his lips were on hers, waking her from the trance. Closing her eyes, she let herself go. His warm, wet lips pressed gently against hers, his tongue easing them apart to gain access to her mouth. Chlorine tickled her taste buds as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her even closer. Time stopped as her body began to respond.
Slowly, he pulled away and she opened her eyes reluctantly, not wanting to let go of the moment. He smiled at her, the kind of smile that said he wanted her – all of her. She was captivated by it.
“Can you feel that? Can you feel how much I’ve missed you?” he whispered huskily, nuzzling her neck.
Alarm bells began to ring, loud and clear. She couldn’t feel anything but his chest pressed tight to hers, his arms wrapped around her.
She shook her head. His smile disappeared and he began to run his fingertips over her back, sending shivers through her.
“Then let me tell you,” he said, barely missing a beat. “I’ve missed being this close to you, holding you like this. You’re so beautiful.” He leaned in to kiss her again, softly this time, and mercifully brief as she struggled to keep a thought in her head. “I love how silky your skin feels when it’s wet.”
He ran his hands over her shoulders and she literally felt herself melting beneath his touch. She was afraid to move in case it should make him stop. He smiled again and she tried to smile back but the alarm bells in her head began ringing once more. She tried to wish them away but they stubbornly remained. She could feel the fantasy draining away, disappearing down the plug hole, leaving her with a reality that petrified her.
Jack began to move backwards and the water swished around them until they were at the side of the pool and she was reaching blindly for the edge.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, still holding her.
Panic overwhelmed her, robbing her of the words. All she could do was stare at him pitifully.
“What is it?” he soothed, worry settling into the creases around his eyes. “Did I come on too strong? I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She reached deep down inside and reminded herself that she was stronger than this.
“There hasn’t been anyone since the accident.” God, she hated how pathetic that sounded. “I don’t know how to… or if I can even… I don’t want it to be weird, for either of us. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
His expression softened and he moved closer, cupping her cheek with his hand. “You could never disappoint me. When the time comes, we’ll work it out. I promise.”
He pulled her closer. Letting go of the edge, she gave herself over to him.
It was a quiet Saturday morning and the sun was already beating down as the cleanup at Tom’s house began. Everyone had insisted on helping out, even though Jack was sure he could handle it himself. Apparently, that wasn’t an option.
They piled into two cars and headed over there, determined to put the place back into some kind of order after Jimmy’s visit. Jack had mostly avoided the house since he’d got out of the hospital, a couple of quick visits reminding him far too vividly of that night. But, as much as he had appreciated Callum’s hospitality, he wanted his own space again.
A part of him also realised he was avoiding the house for another reason, too. It was time to start getting used to the ghosts, not hiding from them. It was all part of the grieving process.
He and Callum righted the furniture, while Ally, Maggie and Jane helped clear up the contents of the spilled drawers and the broken glass and debris in the living room and hallway. After a couple of hours, the house was livable again, and he was starting to feel as if things were finally coming together.
The only thing missing was his father. He knew that would take a lot longer than a couple of hours to come to terms with.
“Hey – look at what I found,” Ally smiled, holding up an album cover.
She sat in an armchair by his father’s 1960s radiogram, holding a bunch of albums on her lap.
The smile came slowly, bringing memories of good times with it. The cover was of the 1974 album Hollies by The Hollies. It was one of his favourites and she knew it.
Ally’s smile grew into a grin. “Shall I put it on?”
Before he could answer, Callum piped up from the other side of the room. “Absolutely – love that shit.”
The mood in the house seemed to lighten, like the house itself had been holding its breath until now, waiting.
They began reminiscing together as the tracks on side one played on. As the haunting opening guitar of The Air That I Breathe began, Jack walked over to Ally, holding out his hand.
“Dance with me?”
He was aware of three other pairs of eyes in the room, all watching.
She nodded without hesitation, smiling up at him. He stepped in to help and she draped her arms around his neck. A thrill of excitement buzzed through him as the music filled the room. From the look on her face, she felt it too. He carefully took hold of the braces he could feel beneath her jeans to pull her legs up and rest her feet on top of his. The combination of the physical toll on his still-healing body and the thrill of the moment sent a rush of adrenaline through his system.
“You okay?” he whispered.
She smiled, words completely unnecessary.
He began to move slowly from side to side, his hands cupping her backside to keep her close. Although she couldn’t feel his hands, one glance told him that she knew exactly where they were and she liked it. He smiled, his gaze wandering.
Callum sat on one of the dining room chairs, his forearms resting on his knees, watching solemnly. Maggie and Jane leaned against the wall near the kitchen, Jane’s arm around Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie wiped her eyes quickly, smiling back at him.
Ally buried her head in his shoulder and he pulled her closer. Things had changed so much these past few weeks. He felt like he had been strapped to the front of a rollercoaster, head-first. So many changes, so many fears faced, so much he had learnt – about himself and about her. What he needed and what he wanted, and the difference between the two. The single biggest regret he harboured now was that his father wasn’t here to see them all together like this. He wanted to share everything with him, from the largest things to the smallest. His heart physically hurt thinking about it, and he knew it was something he was going struggle with for a while yet.
For now though, he was just happy to be dancing, with Ally in his arms.
CHAPTER 27
“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”
- Ingrid Bergman
It wasn’t pain that woke Ally. Rather, it was a brainwave. She would have a barbeque that evening, for Jack. It was long overdue, and she thought Tom would have approved of a mini-celebration, now that Jack had recovered from his injuries and was settled into his new job.
Too early to make phone calls to invite everyone over later, she had ended up in her studio, staring at the blank canvas she had placed there a few days before. She stared at it for a long time, the events of the past few weeks playing on her mind. Finally, she picked up a brush and began to paint.
Slowly at first, almost shyly, she waited for the ideas to stop swirling around in her head and solidify into something she could use. Then she began to wo
rk in earnest. The more she painted, the more the ideas came, until by the time she eventually put down the brush a couple of hours later, the wisps of an idea had blossomed into a fully-fledged plan. Satisfied with her efforts, she smiled at the canvas, forcing herself to take a break in order to gain some perspective. She already looked forward to coming back later to work on it.
She showered, changed and made the phone calls over coffee, filling everyone in on the plan. Maggie and Jane arrived mid-afternoon and by the time Callum and Jack arrived, the majority of the food was already prepared. She directed Callum to clean the grill, bribing him with a beer, and Maggie and Jane set about preparing the table outdoors for the barbeque.
Jack came up behind her while she was at the kitchen sink and swept her hair aside, kissing her neck.
“You smell good,” he murmured.
She smiled, shying away from him as she struggled to concentrate. “It’s not me, it’s the food.”
His fingers lightly traced the line of her neck down to her shoulders, sending sparks of electricity shooting through her.
“Nope,” he whispered, nuzzling her again. “Definitely you.”
She wriggled away from him again, holding onto the counter to stop herself from toppling sideways.
“I can’t concentrate if you’re going to keep doing that,” she scolded, only half joking.
He backed away, hands in the air, smiling. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”
He moved next to her instead, putting his bottle of beer down on the counter and turning to lean against it, facing her. Watching him curiously, wondering what had come over him suddenly, he indicated the tiny heart pendant she wore and smiled.
“I’ve missed it,” she said.
He reached up to run his fingertips over the heart at the hollow of her neck, his touch feather-light against her skin. She shivered with anticipation as his eyes rose to meet hers. As he leaned closer, she held her breath until his lips were on hers. Everything else faded – the room, the house, the world – all of it, gone. Nothing mattered anymore.
“For Christ’s sake, will you two get a room?” Callum groused, stomping into the kitchen and throwing a filthy rag into the sink. Ignoring her blushing silence, he continued. “Grill’s clean. Where’s the meat?”
She cleared her throat, willing her cheeks to return to their natural colour as she indicated the fridge with a nod of her head. “In there.”
“Need a hand?” Jack offered, picking up his beer from the counter again and throwing her a crooked smile.
“Yeah, that’d be good. We’ll take it in turns. First, I’ll flip the meat, sup on my beer and talk bullshit, then we’ll swap. Sound like a plan?”
“Works for me.”
Jack followed Callum out the door into the backyard. Ally smiled, watching them through the window. They seemed closer, these past few weeks. Callum was more tolerant, Jack had begun sharing snippets of his recent past. It was a show of trust, from both of them, and she could see the bond of friendship between them growing stronger because of it.
Something they all seemed to realise was that things had changed forever, between all of them. Things could never go back to being like they were, but there was still common ground, and a new normal could be found. Different didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. It was a slow process, and she didn’t expect miracles, but she could see that the bridges weren’t all burnt beyond repair – hers and Jack’s included.
They sat around drinking and eating for most of the afternoon, the vibe relaxed. They moved from outdoors to indoors once the temperature dropped, sitting around in the living room, reminiscing.
Eventually, the number of yawns outweighed the number of stories. By mid-evening, Maggie started talking about heading home, and Jane and Callum agreed to catch a lift with her, leaving Jack to help Ally clean up. It was a pleasant way to spend the evening, and she was looking forward to spending some time alone with Jack. He seemed especially attentive tonight, and she was relishing it.
She put on some music while Jack took a bathroom break. Standing there, waiting for the music to fill the room, she smiled to herself as the warm glow of the evening washed over her. She was tired, but there was also a fair measure of anticipation fuelling her too. She wished every day could be like this one.
“Do you need another drink while I’m up?” Jack called out from the kitchen.
She had been nursing a warm beer for the past couple of hours. “Sure, why not.”
Jack came through to the living room with two bottles, putting them on the coffee table behind her.
“Hey, remember this?” she smiled, half-turning towards him.
He listened for a second, then grinned, rocking out to Lynard Skynard’s Sweet Home Alabama. She giggled in spite of herself, light-headed suddenly. To see him happy like this, in her living room, with her, was all that mattered. Everything else seemed to fade into insignificance.
He nodded at the couch and helped her sit, before sinking down beside her. Any residual awkwardness she felt when he did things like that had disappeared. He snagged the beer bottles off the coffee table in front of them and handed hers over.
“Hey, I just poked my head into your studio,” he said. “Is that a new painting on the easel? The paint still looks wet.”
“Yeah it is, I started it this morning. I just woke up and suddenly I knew what I wanted to do. It’s for the exhibition.”
“Really? That’s pretty cool,” he said carefully. “Are you happy with this one?”
“Yeah, I think I am. It feels right this time.”
“Glad to hear it,” he smiled, raising his bottle. “To you, then. And to the exhibition.”
She returned the smile, clinking her bottle against his.
“I know it’s gonna be amazing,” he said, taking a sip.
She blushed, cradling her beer in her lap. Jack sank back into the cushions beside her, his shoulder touching hers. She glanced over at him, as he stared up at the ceiling with a contented sigh.
“Happy?” she couldn’t help asking, guessing the answer.
He turned to her, smiling lazily. “More than you’ll ever know. I haven’t enjoyed myself like this for a long time.”
“Me neither.”
His smile faded as his gaze wandered slowly over her lips, her flushed cheeks, the lock of hair that had fallen forward over her eyes. She was comfortable under the scrutiny for the first time in a long time. She lapped it up, watching him watching her.
She let her mind wander, her gaze following suit. The soft fullness of his lips, the tiny freckles that dotted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, only visible this close, the gentle creases in the corners of his eyes. Slowly, he leaned towards her, eyeing her lips and yet pausing ever so briefly to gaze into her eyes, delving deeply, asking the silent question that she felt herself answering just as silently. She may have even nodded, she couldn’t be sure, but a slow, delightful smile played on his lips as he leant in.
He kissed her softly at first, and she closed her eyes. She lost herself in the moment, drawing him deeper and making her forget where she was and how she came to be here. Suddenly, none of that seemed to matter anymore.
His hand curled around her neck and he pulled her closer. The kiss intensified and she reached for him, locking onto his forearm to seal the bond. He relieved her of her beer bottle, reluctantly withdrawing to slide it onto the coffee table next to his, the glass bottles clinking against each other. With both hands now free, he leaned closer, cupping her face tenderly, gently probing inside her mouth with his tongue. A slow shiver ran through her as she responded, giving herself over to the sensation of his hands on her. His body was so close to hers she could feel his heart beating, his breath warm and sweet. Time seemed immaterial as her mind emptied.
Then she was floating – literally.
Her eyes shot open. She was in his arms and he was carrying her through to the bedroom.
“Jack,” she whispered breathlessly, doubt creeping
in as she watched him negotiate the living room doorway.
“Don’t worry,” he said huskily. “Just trust me.”
Struggling desperately to ignore the insecurities that were clawing up through her stomach, she nestled into the side of his neck. His cologne was woody and fresh, and she tried to concentrate on how good he smelt rather than what might happen next.
Jack pushed open the bedroom door with his foot and her heart began to pound harder. He carefully set her down on the edge of the bed. Reluctantly letting him go, she grabbed handfuls of the bedcovers. Anxiety coiled inside her, tightening the muscles across her shoulders and back, her mouth clamped shut as she stared at the floor. Her breathing became heavy and laboured. She wanted to do this, but the admission alone terrified her. As if reading her thoughts, he sat down next to her and reached for her hand, his body radiating warmth.
“We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to,” he said gently, his eyes locking onto hers. “We can wait.”
She willed her heartbeat to slow down. “I don’t want to wait.” If she waited, she might never do this. “But this is all new to me. I don’t know what to do.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s all new to me, too. Don’t worry, we’ll work it out. Let’s just take our time, okay? We’ll find a way through this.”
“Your ribs,” she mumbled feebly.
“They’re fine. Don’t worry.”
He leaned over to capture her lips with his once more, reminding her that he wasn’t about to give up easily. She closed her eyes and tried to forget everything else, concentrating on his lips on hers as his fingertips stroked her cheek. Her skin felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touched suddenly coming to life as he drew her in deeper. Anxiety disappeared in a heated rush, and the last four years faded into the background.
He eased her back onto the bed, caressing her ribcage, sending shivers of pleasure through her. Pulling away long enough to lift his t-shirt off over his head, their eyes locked. She unbuttoned her shirt as he slid his arm beneath her back, lifting her as she shrugged it off and pushed it aside. Hungry for him, she grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him down on her, losing herself in another long, deep kiss.