Beach Wedding (Eversea Book Three) (The Butler Cove Series 5)

by Natasha Boyd

  “I ... it’s the movie,” I said to them and made a split second decision to ask for their help. I took a wobbly breath. “Jack playing his father has really messed with his head. Maybe ... maybe, Devon, you could talk to him. He thinks he’s evil. Like he’s got his father in him. And ...” I trailed off as I debated whether to share more.

  Devon was frowning and running a hand through his hair. “Shit. I had a feeling that was what was going on. He’s been getting really pissed off at me every time the director adds another line to the list of ones he wants redone. And Jack’s already gone in for five or six. The guy’s being a pedantic ass.”

  “Why do they need it redone?” I asked with a hiccupped breath. “I thought the movie was done filming.”

  “Well, sometimes you get the perfect shot, but the delivery of the line doesn’t work for the director, or there’s some kind of noise that can’t be scrubbed. So they make a running list, and then Jack will go back to a sound studio and deliver the lines again to be dubbed over. It happens with almost every movie. Jack usually has to watch himself as he does it.”

  Ugh. I hated that for him. First he had to write the thing, then had to be his father, and now he had to watch himself as his father and redeliver the lines he wrote. No wonder he was struggling so hard to move on from it. He couldn’t. It had finally seeped under his skin.

  “That doesn’t explain why you’re crying though,” Monica pointed out gently.

  I swallowed. “I just hate that he’s going through this. I feel so helpless to help him. And he said he doesn’t think we should get married now because—”

  “What?” Monica squeaked.

  “Let her finish, babe,” Devon said, touching Monica’s arm.

  “Since he came back, we’ve had this weird distance that started off so slight I don’t even know how it got this big. Stupidly, all I was worried about was why he wasn’t asking me to marry him, that he was maybe distancing himself on purpose. I didn’t pick up at all that he was struggling so hard with stuff with his father. I feel terrible. I don’t know what to do.”

  The sound of footsteps came from the deck stairs, and then Jack pulled open the door and came inside, breathing heavily and sweaty from his run. “Hey,” he called.

  The three of us were quiet. I turned my face away quickly before Jack could see it. Monica hopped up off the stool next to me. “I need to get back to chopping,” she said.

  Devon, not one to sweep things under the rug, crossed his hands over his chest, tucking them under his arm pits. “Come join us,” he told Jack.

  “I need a shower.”

  “Come join us first.” Whatever his expression said, it must have worked because Jack came into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the shelf before walking to the fridge to fill it. I watched through my fingers with my head bowed. His gray t-shirt was damp and clung to all the ridges of muscle across his shoulders. My chest tightened.

  “So what’s going on?” Jack asked as he came around the island and pulled out a seat next to me. Then he pried one of my hands away from my face. I immediately used the other hand to cover my eyes. I sensed the change in him as soon as he realized I’d been crying. Instantly, I found myself plucked off the stool and onto his lap, pressed against his sweaty body. “Keri Ann?” he whispered into my hair. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, inhaling sea and salt from his damp skin. “I tried not to cry in front of them. I couldn’t help it.”

  “I partly take responsibility for this,” Devon said. “We should talk about it. I wondered if it was going too far asking you to come back in and make your father sound more evil. You couldn’t close the door on it. I should have protected you more, told them to just use what they had.”

  I felt Jack freeze as he realized I’d shared his secret with Devon and Monica.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Jack let out a long breath. His heart was still pounding hard from his run.

  I mashed my lips together, waiting to see if Jack would talk or leave.

  He stared at me for endless moments, then seemed to come to a decision. He took a breath. “You’re right. It’s ... It’s just this movie really messed with my head, you know?” he said to Devon and Monica. “And now we’re in post-production and the last time I went in ...” He paused, glancing back at me again, and I felt terrible for making him talk about this so openly. But then I assured myself I had to do whatever I could to get Jack through this for us. And for our child.

  He inhaled. “So there I am in the studio booth. I’m having to watch myself playing my father, and well, it was hard enough acting it out the first time, you know?” He cleared his throat. “And I don’t want to feel it all again. I don’t want to draw on anything else inside me. I can’t. I really, really can’t.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Okay, it’s done,” said Devon. “No more. Besides I’ve seen what they have and it’s incredible. They don’t need anything else redone.”

  “I’ve seen some of the dailies,” said Monica. “It’s incredible, Jack. You did an amazing job. You don’t need to do more.”

  I squeezed Jack’s chest in comfort and then tilted my face up. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

  Jack pulled back and looked down at me. “Having you here is what makes it all bearable. You hear me?”

  I nodded.

  “Besides, it was my choice to write it. I just didn’t think through the filming of it or the reality of people knowing.”

  “On the subject of people knowing,” I said to Devon, relieved Jack was finally talking and that Devon very clearly had Jack’s back. “What about when people know about who Jack is? That he’s the ‘Missing Earl’ in real life?”

  Jack shifted beneath me. “I still haven’t decided if I should let it out that it’s about me and my father. That I’m playing my own father.” He sighed heavily.

  Devon pinched the bridge of his nose. I could tell it was a conversation he and Jack must have had before from his body language. “Look, Jack, I’m leaving it to you, but you know I want you to own it. The publicist the studio hired for the movie is really pushing me for it.” He let out a breath. “The thing of it is, I trust her that she knows what she’s doing, but I also think if I said no, she or someone else on the production side would do it anyway to ensure the visibility for the movie.”

  “So basically it’s going to come out no matter what?” I asked.

  “Pretty much,” Jack admitted and screwed his eyes shut tight for a moment. “And it’s messing me up. Like it will suddenly be real. Even though I know it’s already real. He was my father. It doesn’t get more real than that.”

  “It’s going to be fine, you know?” Monica assured him. “The people we should be most worried about as collateral damage are your mom and Jeff, but she’s been so comfortable with you doing this movie. Encouraging even. I think letting the world know you are the ‘Missing Earl,’ will only ensure the success of it. Then it will have all been worthwhile. Otherwise all this pain would have been for nothing.”

  I smiled at Monica, grateful for her input.

  Jack turned my face and lowered his mouth to mine for a brief kiss. “But I’m also worried about you with all the publicity,” he said.

  I shifted on his lap. “Jack, I’ve had years to get used to the cameras and press. If I’m not fine with it by now, there’s no hope.” I laughed. “Seriously, it can’t be worse than when all that Audrey stuff blew up. And I made it. You made it. We made it. That part is going to be fine.”

  It was the other parts, like him believing he was capable of cruelty and violence that we still had to work on. But hopefully, we were on the way to him realizing he wasn’t.

  “Hey,” Jack said to me as he picked me up off his lap and set me on my feet. “Can we go upstairs? I want to talk to you. I’ve got some things I need to say.”

  “Go on then,” said Monica. “Dinner will be ready in fort
y minutes.”

  Jack took my hand and we headed upstairs.

  As soon as we stepped into the room, Jack closed the door.

  I worried my lip between my teeth. “I’m so sorry I told them—”

  He took my face in his hands, his mouth coming down on mine. Soft, but needful.

  I held onto his wrists.

  “God, Keri Ann. Baby,” he uttered between kisses. “I’m so sorry I made you cry.” He spoke against my mouth, then down my neck and into my hair as he gathered me close. “I’m sorry. I’m sweaty and gross but I ...” he trailed off, hissing out a breath.

  “You need me right now.”

  “Yes. God, yes.” He kissed me again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. We stumbled backward, my back hitting the bedroom door. “I need you.” He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders. “I love you,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”

  I knew we actually needed to talk and we would, but sometimes this was the way Jack communicated best. If this was the way he needed to connect with me, then for now, like last night, we’d do it his way.

  His t-shirt was wet and cool under my hands, but the heat of his skin was seeping through.

  He pressed his lower body between my legs, making me squirm. “I need to make love to you, so bad.”

  Eleven

  His movements were frantic. His lips took, and his hands kneaded. Under my palms, his body trembled.

  Jack needed me. Needed to make love to me.

  Pulling back from the door, he walked the few steps to the bed, setting me down. I unsnapped my jeans, and he yanked them down my legs before ripping off his own shirt to reveal his sweat-covered chest. I’d never get bored of the sight of him.

  He paused at the end of the bed, staring at me. His hair was wet and dark with sweat. “Sweater off,” he murmured.

  As much as Jack enjoyed undressing me, he enjoyed me stripping out of my clothes for him even more. I sat up on my knees, resting on my heels and pulled my sweater over my head. Followed by my t-shirt. Then I was in my bra and panties. I reached behind me.

  “Wait,” he rasped. His shorts were tented, and he ran a hand over himself, his eyes dark, his tongue wetting his lips. My insides pinched hard with arousal. “Just the cups.”

  I was lightheaded and breathless as I ran my hands up my belly and pulled down one cup, then the other, my breasts spilling over the top.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful.” He reached out a hand, a single finger, running it down the skin of my chest and flicking over my nipple.

  My shallow breath stuttered, and I squeezed my thighs together as the deep ache I always experienced when we were together like this became almost unbearable.

  I grabbed his hand and pressed it back against my chest, running his palm over the curve of my tender and sensitive breast. “Jack,” I whispered.

  Even though we’d been together for years now, I adored that our sex life never stayed the same. One of the things I’d learned about Jack was his lovemaking was tied to all his shifting moods and emotions, and no two experiences were ever the same. Alike sometimes, yes. But never routine. He was demanding and giving in equal measure. And I’d learned to be too.

  “Just let me look at you a moment.” He let go of me.

  I nodded. A charge crackled between us, making it almost unbearable to me that we weren’t touching.

  “I’ll never get tired of looking at you. Never.”

  “I know that feeling,” I said, letting my eyes run down his body. “But I’ll never get tired of your soul either, Jack. You’re so beautiful to me. You’re so ... good.”

  His eyes darkened on mine, knowing what I was doing, trying to ease his fears.

  It was a gamble to keep bringing them up, but I saw in his look how desperately he wanted to believe me.

  I nodded. “It’s true.”

  He closed his eyes, and I pulled him down on top of me.

  “But the need I have for you is sometimes so very bad,” he groaned into my neck. His lower body pressed against me. “I need you so bad right now.”

  “Wicked, maybe. Wickedly good, but never bad.” I gasped as his mouth sucked hard on my collar bone and trailed up my neck to my ear. His hair was cool and damp, his skin was musky with sweat. I think I had a fetish for Jack like this. Sweaty, salty, wired and tense with exertion, desperate for release. Desperate to lose himself in me.

  His mouth met mine—open, seeking. “I need you. You’re my calm, you’re the good to my bad,” he rasped against my lips.

  “You’re not bad,” I argued on a moan.

  “Shhh. I don’t think I can wait to be inside you.”

  I pressed up against him and slid my hands down his muscled back, pushing down his shorts. “So don’t.”

  Within moments we were naked and he entered me swiftly.

  I gasped, aroused beyond coherence.

  His eyes glittered as he looked down at me and quickly covered my mouth with his. He slipped an arm around my arched back and without further warning, pulled me up so I sat astride him.

  “Ahh,” I cried out, breathless. I had no leverage. I clutched his dark disheveled hair as he held me, moving me firmly, deliberately, with determined wildness, to his own rhythm.

  Our tongues danced together.

  The angle Jack held me, my pubic bone grinding against his on each downward thrust brought me right to the edge in a hurtling rush. My body shuddered and strained, I wrenched my mouth from his, taking precious air before I hit the edge and buried my face against the hot skin of his neck. Crying out wordlessly against the corded muscles in his neck, my body spasmed, bucking against him.

  “Shit, baby. Keri Ann.” Jack groaned between hard won breaths, then his arms tightened, pulling me so hard down upon him as he climaxed I felt another coming for me.

  I was totally caught off guard by it.

  “Oh my God,” I cried out and squeezed my body around him as I shuddered into another release.

  Jack held me, both of us gasping for breath. His hands ran up my back and into my hair as he tilted my head back to look at him under heavy eye lids.

  “I’m limp,” I whispered. “Finished. How did you do that?”

  He chuckled, then rested his forehead against mine. “No idea. We have some kind of insane chemistry.” He kissed my nose, then both eyelids. “I love you. And I’m sorry I made you cry.”

  “I love you, too,” I mumbled. “Are you okay?”

  “Better now.” He sighed and held me close again, our breathing still labored. “Let’s go get cleaned up. I’ll run the tub for you.”

  We lay back in the large bathtub that was situated in the middle of the guest bathroom. I’d always loved this room. I was nestled between Jack’s thighs. He’d taken a shower, and then seeing me in the tub relaxing, had decided to get in and join me.

  “We don’t have long before dinner’s ready,” I said as I felt him relax behind me. “Much as I’d like to stay like this forever, ’til we prune.”

  “I know.” His hand scooped water and poured it down my chest, warming my skin. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night,” he said into my hair. “And all the stuff I said before that about my father. The whole thing grew so big in my mind. I should have talked to you about it sooner. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand.”

  I reached up to caress his neck and jaw bone. “I wish you had. And I’m glad you finally said something even though you gave me a heart attack.”

  “Why a heart attack?”

  I sat up and looked at him over my shoulder.

  He cupped some more water and dribbled it down my spine.

  “I thought you were going to break up with me,” I said in a small voice.

  “Jesus.” Jack sat up abruptly, sloshing water out the bath. His arms wrapped around me. “Fuck.”

  I grabbed onto his strong forearms. “I’d felt so distant from you,” I tried to explain. “Part of me was expecting you to break up with me.”
/>
  Jack’s eyes squeezed tight as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying. Or didn’t want to hear it.

  “I knew you were going to say you didn’t want to marry me,” I went on thinly. “Even before you said it. I’d thought that was why you’d become so distant. And when you said it, I thought it meant you were rethinking us.”

  “Oh my God.” Jack breathed out the words through a grimace. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine not being with you. I need you. I can’t ... I know it sounds pathetic but I can’t be without you.”

  “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I was feeling insecure, I guess. You’ve told me that a million times.”

  “But I guess my actions recently ... I got ... damn it, I guess I got spooked. I let my mind take me to God knows where.”

  “A dark place.”

  He inhaled through his nose. “Yeah. A seriously dark place.”

  “When I met you, you were in a dark place. Different. But the same. Sometimes, I feel like deep down you don’t feel like you’re worth loving.” I cupped his cheek. “And I’ve never met anyone more worth loving.”

  I stared into his deep green eyes, willing him to believe me.

  “And sometimes,” he said echoing my statement, “I can’t believe how damn lucky I am to know you.”

  My stomach chose that moment to let out a long rumble, breaking the mutual admiration session.

  “Excuse me,” I moaned, embarrassed. “I’m soooo hungry.”

  “Guess your appetite is bored of hearing all this mushy shit.” Jack laughed. “Come on. Let’s go eat. Then you need to find out if Cooper is ever coming to town so I can plan your damn birthday. I mean, before the actual day is upon us.”

  “It wouldn’t be the end of the world to have a birthday party on my actual birthday.” I rolled by eyes with a grin as I toweled off, then made sure to sop up the water that had sloshed to the floor.

  “But then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Jack mock whined.

  I straightened and stared at him.

  “Right,” he said, shaking his head.

  Rolling my eyes, I chuckled and darted out the bathroom. I felt buoyant. Jack and I had made progress at least. He may not have fully exorcised his father, but I thought he might be starting to believe in himself again. I checked my phone and saw a couple of texts.