Chapter 7

If Isabella wasn’t still disgruntled about Jack’s earlier behavior, she might admit that she was having fun.

But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing his tactics worked. Instead, she smiled to herself and turned back to the wall she had been painting. The soft gray was soothing. It calmed her nerves as she moved the paint roller over the wall until it was mostly covered except for the small gaps where she would have to use a paintbrush.

Jack had been right. She needed a break. And for some reason, painting his office comforted her. It could have been the paint color. It could have been the repetitive motion of the roller. It could have been the monotony of the task. Or it simply could have been Jack and the safety of his presence.

Wait, safety? How is Jack safe? If anything, his confidence and he-man personality was dangerous, not safe. She dipped the paintbrush in the paint as she thought. She felt safe with him, protected, like nothing could harm her when he was around. She froze for a minute. For the first time, she was safe with a man. Isabella turned around and watched Jack while he painted.

She turned back around and pulled the paintbrush out of the paint to fill in the gaps along the corners and edges of the wall. She shook her head. No matter how she felt with Jack, she couldn’t bring him into this. She wouldn’t. Jasper had died because she had dated him, because David couldn’t let her go.              Somehow, she hadn’t realized Jack had slipped through the cracks and wormed his way into her life. She thought for a minute. It wasn’t that she hadn’t realized so much as she let him.

“We’re almost done, Izzy,” said Jack as he stood above her, hands on his hips.

She looked up from her kneeling position on the floor. “We made fast work of this, didn’t we?”

“And you even took a break from work,” he said with a grin. “And I bet The Bean is still standing.”

“Ha ha. You’re so funny,” she shot back with a small smile as she stood up with the paintbrush still in her hand. “I’ve never left in the middle of the day before. I’m sure the town will be shocked to hear it. Some might even think I’m dying.”

“Shall I post something in the newspaper? Is there a town crier? I can go to the bell tower and shout if that would do the trick,” he joked.

“Listen up, smartass. Some people have a work ethic, you know. And I’ve barely taken any time off since I opened it two years ago. I’m not used to taking breaks.”

She moved her eyes downward to her finger that poked him in the chest and realized it wasn’t her finger at all, but the paintbrush. Still covered in gray paint. On his white shirt. But she decided that she wasn’t going to be horrified about it. Instead, she drew an X on his chest while he stood there, too shocked to do anything. But she didn’t stop with just an X. She drew more lines, some long, some short, until she had created a snowflake on his shirt.

“Oh dear, you’ve got some paint on you,” she said sweetly, all innocent and charming.

“Have I now? I wonder how that got there,” he murmured with a glint in his eyes, one that made her step back.

She backed away, paintbrush held up in front of her just in case he tried anything.

“It seems to me, kitten, that you want to play,” he said, low and deep, as he stalked towards her retreating form, one step at a time.

“Play? No, no I don’t think so. We have to finish painting,” she said, her pulse racing at the tone in his voice and the implication behind his words.

“We’re taking a break,” he said as he took another step towards her, slowly chasing her around his large desk.

“You seem to take an awful lot of breaks. Is that why lawyers charge so much?” she questioned in an attempt to distract him.

He laughed, deep in his chest, and took another step. She bumped her hip against the corner of his desk and lost some of her momentum. That small misstep allowed him to close the distance, quick as a lion and just as fierce.

Jack wrapped one arm around her waist, an iron band that didn’t let her move no matter how much she wriggled against him in an attempt to escape. He swiped his free hand over his own paintbrush and dragged it down her nose spreading the paint in a straight line.

She giggled and then quieted when he didn’t do anything. He only held her there, tight against his chest, his desk behind her. Jack looked down into hazel eyes and felt desire well up inside of him. But it wasn’t just lust, although there was plenty of that. He wanted to be with her, in every way, and protect her. He wanted to sit quietly with her in the evenings. He wanted to eat breakfast with her and wake up beside her every morning. He wanted to kiss her hello and goodbye. And yes, he wanted her in his bed. He wanted to ravage her and make her scream his name as she fell apart beneath him.

Something had happened to her that caused her to shy away in a lot of situations. And yet, he had seen her strength and determination, the love with which she made coffee for strangers and friends alike. He wanted to know more about her. She was beautiful to him, but even more, he saw her spirit and her love. And some part of him wanted to know her better, wanted to unearth those things that made her smile and laugh. He had never seen someone embrace a career as lovingly and wholeheartedly as she did. It was a beautiful sight indeed.

Marc’s words about Isabella’s past hurts came back to him and Jack bent his head down slowly, giving her plenty of time to push him away if she didn’t want this. He didn’t want to push her, so he held himself in check just enough to make sure she would be okay with intimacy. She hadn’t minded at the wedding, but he knew her better now. Knew her little nervous habits, her telltale signals of discomfort, her scared expressions and fear in her eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, he bent his head closer and closer, watching for any sign that she didn’t want this. None came. He brushed his lips against hers once, twice, three times before he closed his lips over hers. Isabella felt his tongue run along the seam of her closed lips and she answered his question by opening her lips to let him in. She tentatively reached out her own tongue and brushed it against his, smiling faintly at his low growl in response to that small movement.

His arm tightened around her waist and his other hand trace up her left leg and pulled it up to his hip, a movement that forced their centers closer together. She gasped at the sensation this new position provided; he bit at her lower lip in response.

Isabella’s head spun. No man had ever made her feel this way. David had only ever taken what he wanted, but had never given her much in return. Jasper had been sweet and kind, but never very passionate. But Jack was everything. He was passionate, sweet and generous. But he also knew what he wanted and would take it, take her. Isabella realized through her lustful haze that she was fine with that. More than fine, she wanted that, wanted him. She wanted to let go and let him take her, fill her up, stroke her fire and ignite her passion. For so long she hadn’t allowed anyone close to her, afraid of the consequences. But right now, nothing mattered except the feel of Jack against her. That was all she wanted, all she desired, all she needed.

She leaned back slightly, an invitation for him to lay her back against the desk. He groaned, low in his throat, at the offering she gave him. He didn’t refuse. His hand reached behind her to gain purchase against the desk as he laid her down. There was a rush of something wet against her back before the metallic clang of a can hitting wood.

Jack pulled away and cursed. He had knocked over a small paint can, spilling paint everywhere. His eyes blazed as he looked down at her, splayed out beneath him on his desk. Paint decorated the front of her shirt from his chest pressing against her and he was sure her back was soaked in paint, too.

She came back to her senses when he pulled away. She couldn’t believe she had done that and almost done more. Here. In his office. In the middle of town. Embarrassment crept up into her cheeks, flushing her pale skin. He watched the color spread over her cheeks and knew the moment was lost. He wanted her, but he could see her past begin to haunt her eyes again as she struggled between her inner demons and outer desires. At least now she knew his intentions. It wasn’t some wedding fluke this time. And she could no longer deny that there was something between them.

He stepped back and helped her stand before grabbing a towel and trying to wipe as much of the paint off her back as he could. He turned her around and wiped the towel over her nose, but it was no use. The paint had already smeared across to her cheek and wiping it only made it worse.

“I don’t think you can blame this on the emotions of a wedding,” he said, his voice husky.

She looked up at him, the haze of passion still clouding her eyes a bit. No, she couldn’t deny what was between them.

“I’m not going anywhere, Isabella. And I’m not giving up on you. A spilled can of paint won’t stop me.”

She nodded. Isabella didn’t want him to stop. She wanted someone to pull her out of her own fears and make her embrace living again. Her actions had surprised them both, but her next words surprised them even more.

“Come over for dinner Sunday night,” she whispered.

Jack pulled back from her slightly to look into her eyes. He nodded.

Isabella took a step away from him and then another until she reached where she had placed her purse and light jacket. She hesitated for a moment before deciding she would deal with the embarrassment rather than a ruined jacket, and didn’t put her jacket on. The cool spring air wasn’t so cold that she couldn’t manage the walk to The Bean without it. At the door, she turned and said, “I’ll see you in a bit,” before she whirled out the door and out of his sight.

She rushed down the street, her cheeks still flushed and paint covering her front and back. She couldn’t believe she had done any of that. Not after her resolution that she wouldn’t get involved with him. It was stress, she tried to convince herself. That was why she was acting odd. The threatening note had made her more stressed than usual and she was out of sorts because of that.

Isabella snorted. That wasn’t it. She had kissed Jack because she wanted to. She had let things continue, and would have let them continue even more, because she wanted to. She wanted that natural human connection that she had denied herself for so long. But she was sure that once wouldn’t be enough, that her heart wouldn’t be satisfied with just one time with Jack. Because she was a forever kind of girl, one who dreamed about the future and the same happiness her sister had found.

Her heart was going to get her into trouble, she was sure of it. And there was no way of preventing that. But maybe she could take a chance just one more time. And this time, she would do her best to not let her fear take over her, to not let David have that power over her anymore. She would live life to the fullest starting now, with Jack. And with any luck, her happiness would last this time. This time, she wouldn’t let David take that from her.