by Vivien Vale
Jack
Little beads of sweat roll down the middle of my back. If I were alone in bed, I’d take the covers off.
But I’m not and I don’t want to expose her delicate body to the cool of the cabin. The fire is dying down and I don’t want to get out of bed to re-stoke it. At least my body heat will keep her warm.
Equally, I don’t want to get out of bed and take a cold shower to cool myself down. It would break the spell Avery has cast over me. Those eyes of hers, I swear if they were green I’d believe she’s a witch.
But then again, maybe there are witches with blue eyes?
Part of cannot help but wonder if she’s really real. The entire experience feels so fucking surreal.
Maybe this is an altogether different kind of night terror I’m having. It’s filled with pleasure and love and happiness only to go up in smoke just before I wake up to being all alone. Just a different kind of torture.
I blink a couple of times, but Avery does not disappear.
It definitely wasn’t a dream or nightmare, she’s real. And she’s really here in bed with me.
As I lie here, one arm wrapped around her curves, I think I’ll never take a shower ever again.
Each and every one of my pores is covered in her, and yet I still want more of her. She’s well and truly got into and under my skin. And I don’t think I’ll ever let her go.
“Love…awesome…best ever…”
Her lips are moving, but the words are barely audible, she’s speaking so softly. Those ocean eyes of hers are closed.
Mine on the other hand are drinking in every part of her I can see. I’m getting intoxicated by staring at this woman and I can’t get fucking enough of her.
I use my free hand to run it through my own hair. A sigh escapes my lips. It’s not a sad, depressed, I-wish-my-life-were-over kind of sigh. On the contrary, it’s at the very opposite end of the scale. It’s the kind of I’m glad to be fucking alive sigh.
Her Rapunzel-like hair tickles my chest and I twirl some of it around my fingers. The long strands, soft and shiny like silk.
I find myself thinking about life. The things that brought me here. And the things that brought this woman to me.
Life.
Strange, beautiful, sad and intense, that’s what life is.
A cocktail of fucking emotions and experiences. Life’s a rollercoaster, there’s no other way to describe it. I’ve read something about it once. Something about, ‘You need to check your pulse if you’re not stressed, elated, frustrated, happy or angry, because you’re probably dead.’
I know all about the myriad of emotions life throws at people. I’ve had my fucking share of highs and lows. The lows have been extremely fucking low. And now this.
One minute I’m fighting for my fucking life, the next I meet the most exquisite angel in the form of a woman. If I were spiritual anymore, I’d believe she’s been sent from heaven. Who knows, this experience might turn me from fucking cold-hearted skeptic to a believer.
But what would be waiting around the corner? A rich father who comes looking for his daughter? Avery’s own desire to return to the life she’s used to? I’ve been alive long enough to know there’s always a catch. Besides, I need to face fucking reality, she’s not a mountain woman kind of girl, my Avery.
I shake my head at myself.
More reality for you, Jack, she’s not yours. Just because she fucked you doesn’t mean you fucking own her.
And even I don’t like to think the thought through to its conclusion. It hurts already to think about her not being here in the fucking future.
“Jack…my Jack…hero…love you…” Avery continues to mumble, and I can’t work out if she’s speaking in her dreams or if she’s half-awake.
Wait.
Love.
Four letters.
Those fucking four letters can do so much fucking damage. Even hearing her suggest she loves me in her no doubt dream-like state, is tearing at my fucking heartstrings.
Like a fucking puppy dog, I hang on every fucking word she’s muttering at me. If I’m not fucking careful, I’ll start drooling shortly.
And of course, it hits me like a speeding train. I guess I’m getting rusty in here because I wasn’t able to dodge it. I, Jack Lawson, mountain man, former oh-so-special leader of a top-secret anti-terror fighting unit, am not immune to the hopes and dreams attached to those four letters.
I sigh again.
Life really is a fucking roller coaster. So. Is mine about to tumble down a steep cliff with no breaks, swerving all over the track before crashing at the very bottom? Or will it be kind to me and take me on a fucking joy ride?
“I mean it,” Avery whispers and interrupts my thoughts.
Fucking navel gazing isn’t good for anyone, especially me.
My eyes find hers and I can see right into her soul. Her delicious red lips are curled upward a tiny bit. She’s trying to assure me.
Her innocence is palpable. How could anyone want to hurt this precious fucking thing? All I can think of is wanting to protect and look after her. She’s too fucking precious to let back out into the real world, among those who sent her crashing down the mountainous road at breakneck speed.
I kiss the tip of her nose.
“Shhh,” I say and nuzzle my face into her neck. “You should get some rest.”
Her hands reach up toward my face. I feel her fingers follow my cheekbones and drop to my chin. There she traces along my bottom lip. It’s as if she’s trying to put a spell on me. I keep perfectly still, resisting the urge to kiss the tips of her fingers.
I’m like fucking putty in her hands. For a fragile tiny being, she’s got a lot of power. I bet she’s totally unaware of how powerful she really is.
Mental note to self, don’t let her know.
“No one…” she starts and her eyelids flutter. She’s struggling, fighting against the wave of tiredness about to transport her into the land of dream. I want to cover her face with kisses—to kiss those eyes, cheeks and nose—but at the same time I don’t want to disturb her, so I don’t. “…has ever treated me like you…you’re the best…gentle giant.”
Her words hit their mark. My insides are melting. In appreciation, I just want to hold her tighter.
Her body goes heavy and her breathing steadies to a regular rhythm. I’m pretty sure she’s fallen asleep. I can see her lips move a little but if she’s saying anything, I can’t hear her actual words.
My mind starts to wander.
Who would have thought I’d find this diamond on the side of the road? Well actually, who’d have thought I’d get to rescue this diamond from a near fatal car crash and then take her back to my fucking cabin? And then the snow storm set in, which meant she had to stay here, of all places.
I stroke her soft long hair with my free hand. She nuzzles into me.
It’s a wonder how her body seems to fit perfectly into mine. It’s like she’s the missing puzzle piece to complete me.
Fuck Jack, what the fuck are you doing?
I shake my head. The movement triggers her head to roll to the right. She moans.
Well that was fucking stupid. I knew I was nothing more than a big fucking elephant. Soon Avery will realize what a fucking oaf I was, and she’d run a mile.
Then she’s be lost forever.
No one but yourself to blame, Jack.
My own eyes are getting heavy. I fight sleep because I don’t wanna have another fucking nightmare. I never learned how to properly deal with these. Can’t flush it out of my system, and can’t do anything about it either, aside from enduring it. Nobody can help me out of this.
The shrink I saw after I got rescued out of the last fucking gone-oh-so-horribly-fucking-wrong-operation, suggested weekly therapy sessions. At five hundred a pop, he could go to fucking hell. Oh sure, the government was going to pay, but I’d rather they give those poor fucking families left behind of the men I lost as much fucking money as possible.
Of course, money wasn’t going to replace those lives, but it would make it easier for the families who lost their sole breadwinner.
I don’t need much, and I certainly don’t need to lie on a leather lounge pouring my fucking heart out. My cabin in the wilderness is enough to keep me going.
None of the shitty things people think they need ever had any appeal for me anyway, even before I turned into a fucking recluse.
I mean, what the fuck do you need all those electronic gadgets for anyway? Take a look at the world and take your face out of the screen, I say.
The world is such an amazing fucking place. People should spend more time living in it than reading about it online.
Avery pushes her back into me a little further, and I’m brought back in the moment.
Where her naked skin touches mine, fire ignites within me. I lean over her to kiss her gently on the neck.
Even in the dim light, I can see her bruises.
She’s been through a lot. She’s damaged the way I’m damaged.
I can feel my own eyes flutter. At some point in time I know they shut all together and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter 24
Avery
I’m in that delicious place just before I wake up. I call it the in-between world.
Not quite in dreamland anymore, but reality is still shrouded in a kind of cloud.
I make the most of it and let my body melt into Jack’s.
Slowly, images of the previous night enter my mind. And, of course, it occurs to me, I’m no longer a virgin.
The thought has my cheeks turning hot and red. Thinking about my indiscretion has me think about my mother.
Mother would be furious. She’d say something about me having spoiled the family name with my behavior.
I try and push Mommy out of my head. No point ruining a perfectly good start to the day.
Slowly, I roll away from my mountain man so I can actually look at him. Moving has pain shooting through me and I bite my teeth together so I don’t cry out in pain. Jack looks like he’s still deep asleep.
My eyes feast on the muscles of his chest and broad shoulders. Then I even let myself look lower—not too low because a blanket covers that part of Jack.
I sigh and smile.
I’m no longer a virgin. I feel like getting up and shouting it from the rooftop. The entire notion is silly, I know, but I can’t help it.
I’ve grown up a little in the last few hours. Jack taking my virginity has matured me and freed me a little from the ties my parents still had over me.
My entire life I’ve never done anything my parents haven’t wanted me to do, until last night.
Even if Adam still wanted me before, he won’t want me now.
Gently, I sit up in bed. Again, I can feel pain all over.
I can also feel pain between my legs. It’s a different kind of pain than the one I sustained during the crash.
It’s the type of pain that feels like, honestly, kind of good.
It’s the type of pain that confirms I’ve smudged the family honor.
What a laugh.
I really have been a naive little girl all my life, swallowing everything I’ve been told without question.
What do I do now, though?
Clothes first, I decide, and scoot to the edge of the bed. I scan the room and spy one of Jack’s flannel shirts.
Good. I pull it on over my head, enveloping myself in Jack’s scent.
Now it’s time to get breakfast organized.
So far, Jack has done everything for me, including rescuing me twice. I decide it’s about time I do something for him.
I have to admit when I enter his kitchen, I question the wisdom of my decision. It’s his domain after all. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.
Can I do the wrong thing in a kitchen?
Knowing myself for as long as I have, probably.
Slowly, I open cupboard doors and pull drawers out. Before I start any kind of cooking, I need to get my bearings. Figure out where everything is kept.
I decide to try bacon and eggs. My gaze lingers on the coffee pot and I decide I’ll also attempt making coffee too.
I heat up the oil in the heavy black cast iron frying pan and gently add three slices of bacon. The fat hisses and spits at me and I watch the meat curl up a little from the heat.
Eggs.
What’s the easiest and fastest way to prepare eggs?
I rummage through my brain for any information left over from the cooking classes I had to attend, as well as TV cooking shows and time-lapse recipe videos on the internet.
Mommy didn’t cook herself. I’m not sure that Mommy actually even eats anymore. If she does, I sure don’t know about it.
In fact, I don’t even think she knows how to make a cup of tea or boil water. I think she might survive on vitamin water and her own sense of superiority.
And when she does eat, Daddy has enough money to make sure Mommy can hire people to do those boring chores for her.
Mrs. Higgins, the cooking teacher at my private high school, once taught me something called scrambled eggs.
I’m pretty sure at the hotel I stayed at the night before the wedding I ordered bacon and eggs, with the eggs scrambled.
What do I need again to scramble eggs?
A bowl, a whisk and a little salt.
Before I get to the eggs, I decide to check the bacon again. As I turn it over, I realize I got to it just in time. The edges are a little black already.
With the bacon now sizzling on the other side, I break an egg open. Unfortunately, instead of neatly opening it into two halves, I must use too much force because egg and shell both drop into the bowl.
Aw, beans.
Obviously, this breaking an egg thing is a little harder than it looks.
Gingerly, I pick out the eggshell. Fingers crossed those tiny pieces won’t be noticeable when I’ve added more egg and scrambled it.
With the second egg, I exercise more caution, and this time it only gets a crack. I push my index finger into the tiny gap and manage to only lose some of the eggshell into the mixture.
I wipe my brow and try to slow my breathing. My shoulders are tense and I’m beginning to understand why mother never cooked.
By the time I add the fourth egg, I’ve improved a little. I’m a long way from an expert, but I’ve got eggs in the bowl and most of the shell in the trash can.
Now for a little salt and pepper before I whisk it all together.
The smell of burning has me think about the bacon again.
Oh no. There are just too many things to think about.
I lift the pan with the meat off the flame. But to keep it warm, I decide to leave it in the pan at the back of the stove.
The flame seems awfully big. I play with the knob and realize I can turn it down.
Instead of oil, I add butter to the pot and pour my egg mixture in when it dissolves.
It hardens faster than I anticipate. I stir the mixture quickly.
I glance toward the stairs but don’t see Jack coming down yet.
On one hand, this is good news. I’d hate for him to see how useless I am in the kitchen; on the other, what will I do with the food when it’s ready and he’s not here?
Jack.
Jack the mountain man with many talents. He has so many talents.
Thinking about him makes me feel inferior and silly. Although so far, Jack’s treated me with the utmost respect, courtesy, and reverence.
Of course, he hasn’t seen my cooking skills yet.
It was nothing yesterday for him to whip up the most amazing homemade pancakes in the world, maybe even the universe. He also told me he built this cabin himself, and I assume he’s got plenty of other talents I haven’t seen yet.
He’s so unlike Adam.
I shiver just thinking about Adam.
Adam, who would never ever dream of entering a kitchen, let alone attempt to cook something. Adam, who has made billions and likes to boa
st about all his achievements to anyone who’s worth boasting to.
And then, there’s my own Daddy.
Jack is also nothing like my Daddy.
Maybe the fact Jack’s the total opposite of the two men who so far have tried to control my life makes him more attractive to me.
I slept well last night, better than I have in a long time.
Jack. Jack the mountain man.
I like him. I like him a lot. I wonder what he thinks of me.
I know Adam has no feelings for me whatsoever. All Adam is interested in is owning things and the connection to my father that I represent. I would have made an obedient little trophy wife for him, the type that gets wheeled out for special gatherings to be admired and oohed and ahhed over. Then I would have been returned to my mansion somewhere so he could go on with his business without interference from me.
On the side, he would no doubt keep other women, just as pretty but not as well-connected as me.
And I didn’t love him, so I wouldn’t have even cared.
I decide I’ve thought enough about Adam and his low life plans.
Daddy.
I still need to process Daddy. You can’t just overnight break up with a parent.
Although, it would be nice.
I’ll need to find a special place for Daddy in my head and in my heart. Since learning that he’s a wheeling, dealing piece of shit the night I ran away, he can’t occupy the same place in my affections ever again.
A noise has me spinning around. My heart rate goes through the roof and I half expect to find Adam and Daddy to standing behind me.
When I catch sight of the tall, slightly unkempt figure, I relax and smile.
“I made breakfast,” I announce as if I’ve won the lottery, and point to my creation.
“Boof!” Buck says from behind me, his paws on the counter as he stares at what I’ve made.
“For you too, Buck. Down, boy,” I order him, and to my surprise, Buck happily obeys.
Chapter 25
Jack
I wake up slowly.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.
You don’t realize it until it’s your reality. Stirring from sleep all groggy and relaxed? That’s a luxury.