But the magician, alas, solved the riddle

 

As it happened, once Jack and I were finally alone in his camper, he wasn’t rough with me at all. In fact, he was surprisingly tender. He poured hot wax on my skin, titillated me with hot matches and metal toys. He traced his hands over every inch of me and brought me to the cusp of euphoria before plunging me into the pleasurable depths of several mind-blowing orgasms.

The following morning we woke early, and after we ate breakfast, Jack went to find Marina to try to organise the meeting in the tent for Jay. I still had no idea what he was planning, but he had a reassuring sort of confidence that made me believe whatever he was going to try would work. It was a relief to think that in just a few hours we might have our culprit, and things around the circus could be safe once and for all.

I was on my way to the gazebo when I saw Bea wandering between the campers, wheeling along a battered old buggy with a baby doll inside. She looked tired, her hair was dirty, and it seemed like she hadn’t changed her clothes in a while. She hadn’t struck me as the best cared-for child, but I’d never seen her look this bad.

I was just about to approach and ask her how she was when her dad came marching out of their camper van, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and dragged her inside. It startled me, because Aiden had always struck me as a kind, though slightly laissez faire parent. He must have sensed me watching him, because our eyes met and his were hard.

“She’s been misbehaving,” he ground out in explanation, then went inside the camper, slamming the door shut behind him. I didn’t feel right after witnessing that, but I knew it must be hard being a single dad, so I couldn’t exactly judge. Still, he needed to take better care of Bea, at least make sure she was washed and had clean clothes. It made my heart hurt to think of her in her current state.

In an effort to lighten my mood, I went and had lunch with Lola and Luan in the gazebo. The two of them seemed to be slowly moving towards coupledom, which was nice to see. The entire circus was rife with talk of the meeting that was to take place after lunch, and once Lola, Luan, and I had finished eating, we all walked together to the Spiegeltent.

Inside people sat in various locations around the audience, chatting in earnest and speculating as to what was going on. I noticed King sitting in a corner on the floor, passed out and looking as dishevelled as always. It upset me a little. Somewhere deep down I thought maybe the painting would make him better somehow. Perhaps he was right after all, perhaps he was too far gone.

When I spotted Jack in the front row next to Matilda, my heart did a little leap. I got excited just at the sight of him and made my way towards the front.

“Hey,” he greeted me, low and husky. I smiled at him, then gave Matilda a little wave, but before I could take the seat next to him, he pulled me down to sit on his lap. The action gave me tingles, and his gaze fixed on my bare collarbone, where there were some small red marks from the wax he’d dripped on me last night. His attention scorched far more than the wax, and I found myself trembling a little at the memory.

Then his thumb brushed over the markings, causing me to let out a tiny gasp. His chest rumbled with a muted growl, and I could tell Matilda was watching us, but she didn’t say anything. I leaned up and had just enough time to lay a peck on Jack’s lips before a hush fell over the gathering. Footsteps echoed around the tent as Jay stepped out onto the stage, all eyes focusing on him.

“Greetings,” he said, scanning the space and flashing a big smile. He looked excited and full of energy. Electric. I wondered if this was what he was like during his performances and imagined watching him do a show would be quite the thrill ride. “Before I begin, could I ask you all to come and sit at the front in a circle? There should be enough room in the first two rows for everyone.”

Slowly, those gathered began to come forward, and, just like Jay had requested, it seemed like everyone in the entire circus was present. I saw Marina carrying Pierre. I saw Winnie hand in hand with her husband Antonio. I saw Julie and her sisters. Even Pedro was present. All except for the kids. After a minute or two, we were seated. I remained on Jack’s lap, staring at Jay as he continually moved his attention from one person to the next as though taking his time to study everyone individually. Then I saw him nodding as he began to count heads.

“Okay,” he said, and glanced at Marina. “If my math skills are correct, we’ve got forty-six people, am I right?”

“That’s correct,” Marina answered.

“Great.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, let’s get down to business. My name is Jay Fields, and I’m a stage illusionist. I’m proficient in a number of arts, one of which includes cold reading and mentalism. Solving mysteries is something of a hobby of mine. Just think of me as a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, or better yet, consider me your deus ex machina, here to solve the unsolvable. At the very least, I’ll endeavour to put a criminal behind bars. As you’ve all probably heard by now, there have been two separate incidents of violence and attempted rape against women in this circus in the past several weeks, as well as a murder two years ago. All evidence seems to suggest the crimes were carried out by the same person. The evidence also suggests that that person is in the room with us today.”

Quiet elapsed, and a tension filled the space. Jack’s arms tightened around me, and I wondered if he was thinking what I was thinking. That I could have fallen victim to this sicko if I had been in our room that night instead of Lola. Jay paused for a moment to let everyone absorb the information, and there were a couple of grumblings amongst the gathering. I heard Pedro swear and ask how Jay, an outsider, thought he could come in and begin pointing fingers at people. His argument made me wonder, and not for the first time, if he was the man we were looking for. His behaviour in the past certainly indicated a slight deviancy, but did that mean he had the ability to rape and kill? I wasn’t quite sure. In the end Marina stood, her voice booming loud around the tent.

“Now, you all need to listen up and listen good. I agreed to have Mr Fields here today, and so long as you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about. So please, can you all shut up complaining and let the man get on with his job?”

Her reprimanding tone worked to hush the grumblings, and Jay sent her a look of gratitude before giving her a dashing little bow. “Thank you, Marina.” She dipped her head to accept his thanks, and then Jay began to pace.

“Now, I’m going to go around the room and ask each one of you a set of three questions. These questions will consist of the following: What is your name? Where were you born? And what is the name of the street you grew up on? Of these three questions, I want you to give me two correct answers and one lie. You can lie on any one of the questions you wish, but do not, under any circumstances, tell me which one. Everybody got it?”

Once Jay’s instructions were understood by all, he walked to the far right of the room and fired off his three questions. The first person to be asked was the stuntman, Raphael.

“What is your name?” said Jay.

“Raphael Suarez.”

“Where were you born?”

“Brazil.”

“What is the name of the street you grew up on?”

“Rua Santa Teresa.”

I noticed that after each question was answered, Jay took a moment to stare at his interviewee. When he was done with Raphael, he moved on to the man sitting next to him. It was a long and tedious process, truth be told. Jack and I were sitting on the opposite end from where Jay had started, so it took about a half hour for him to reach us. He smiled at me warmly and asked me the questions. I decided to lie on the second one. I knew from my accent that my lie was probably obvious, but hey, just because I sounded Irish didn’t mean I was born in Ireland.

“What’s your name?”

“Lille Baker.”

“Where were you born?”

“Argentina.”

Jay give me a little grin before asking the final question. “And what is the name of the street you grew up on?”

“Fitzgerald Street.”

“Thank you, darlin.” The way he spoke to me gave me a warm feeling in my tummy, like he held an affection for me already, and he barely knew me. He only knew that I was in love with his brother, and that seemed to be good enough for him. He moved on to Jack next, and soon he was done asking everyone the same three questions. I had no idea what he was up to, but the glint in his eye told me he had a plan.

“Have I gotten everyone?” Jay asked, and there were a number of yeses from the gathering before a noise sounded from the back of the room. I twisted in Jack’s lap to see King had knocked over a chair while trying to stand up. “Ah, not everyone, I see,” said Jay as he hopped off the stage and strode towards King, who glowered at him and rubbed his temples like he was suffering from a headache.

“Hey, there,” said Jay, eyeing King closely. Jack and I shared a look. We both knew that King was a wildcard, and there was a good chance he’d say something rude or insulting.

“What do you want?” King griped, and tried to move past him, but Jay did a suave little sidestep.

“I want to ask you some questions. Will you play ball?”

“Piss off.”

Jay chuckled and took another step closer to King. I watched him as he tilted his head, taking a moment to study Marina’s brother, and he seemed intrigued. “I bet you could tell me some stories,” Jay observed almost absently.

“I need a smoke,” King grumbled, and moved to walk by Jay again. He was clearly growing impatient.

“I’ll tell you what. You come sit up the front, let me ask you some questions, and I’ll buy all the cigs and booze you could wish for.”

King eyed him suspiciously, then finally nodded his agreement. “You better not be lying.”

“Cross my heart,” said Jay, swiping his finger over the left side of his chest in an “X” shape before gesturing for King to go sit up at the front. King stumbled by him and took the seat on the other side of Matilda, who looked at him sadly when she saw how uncared for he was. Jay came to stand before him.

“I’m going to ask you three questions. I want you to answer two correctly and lie on one of them. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, two true, one false. I’m a drunk not an idiot.”

“No, I imagine you’re far from it,” said Jay, his brows drawing together in what looked like concern. “So, the first question, what’s your name?”

King coughed his pained cough and answered, “King. Oliver King.”

“Where were you born?”

“London.”

“And what is the name of the street you grew up on?”

King seemed pained as he considered his final answer. “Molesworth Street.” I wasn’t quite sure why, but I felt like his third answer was the lie.

“Thank you, sir,” said Jay before turning to address the gathering again. “Okay, so this is where things start to speed up. Now I’m going to ask you all one question. I don’t want you to lie here — I want you to tell the truth. The answer will be a simple yes or no. Once you’ve answered, I’ll either tell you to move to the back of the tent or to stay where you are. I repeat, I do not want you to lie to me.”

He began to the right again with Raphael, shooting off his question. “Did you attack Julie Young last night?”

Raphael seemed appalled by the very idea and answered immediately. “No.”

“Thank you,” said Jay. “You can go to the back of the tent.”

Raphael rose and walked down the aisle before sitting in the very back row, folding his arms as he lowered himself into a seat. Jay moved on to the next person and then the next, asking everybody the same question in rapid-fire succession. Sometimes, if he wasn’t happy with the answer, he asked twice. He even asked Julie herself. She furrowed her brow at him.

“How on earth can I attack myself?” she complained.

“Just answer the question, darlin.”

“No, I didn’t fucking attack myself,” she deadpanned.

“Okay, good,” said Jay, raising a hand. “Stay where you are for now.”

In the end, both Jack and I were at the back of the tent with almost everyone else. He ran his hands soothingly up and down my arms, which worked to rid some of my restlessness. I wished Jay would speed things up and discover the culprit already. The only people left at the front were Julie, Pedro, King, Luan, Aiden, and Antonio. Jay asked all of them to stand in a circle around him. He paced a moment as they watched, and then began asking them all the same question again, though this time it was phrased slightly differently.

“Are you the attacker?” he asked Julie.

“No.”

“Are you the attacker?” This time, Pedro.

“No.”

“Are you the attacker?” Now it was Luan’s turn.

“No.”

Jay continued asking his question, and again he asked some of them twice, even three times. Each time every one of them answered no, and they all seemed to be growing irritated. Pedro swore in Portuguese, while Luan’s cheeks grew red and Julie pulled a strop.

“This is a joke,” she griped, and stared daggers at Jay. “Seriously, do you even know what you’re doing?”

Jay put his finger to his lips to hush her, and quiet descended. He bowed his head for a moment, as though trying to think, then whipped it up and pointed to Antonio and Pedro. “You both can go join the others at the back.” There was a light in his eyes now as he studied his final four suspects, and a chill came over me, because something told me Jay had finally decided who the guilty party was. Jack must have seen me shiver, because he pulled me close and wrapped both his arms around my shoulders. I sank into his hard, sturdy frame, seeking comfort as I listened to Jay speak.

“So, I should probably explain my method here. Otherwise, I can hardly go pointing fingers, now, can I? I asked everyone the same three questions, asking for two truths and one falsehood. This was to get your baselines. Most everybody has a tell when they lie. Therefore, if you were telling me two truths and one lie, the odd reaction out is the lie – the tell. You,” he began, and pointed to Luan, “are typical. You look to the left when you lie. You’re a very reliable liar. You look to the left every time. This transparency indicates that you’re probably quite an honest person. However, you’re also nervous under interrogation, which made you slightly more difficult to read when I asked the final two questions.” Jay paused and took a breath, while I felt like I was holding mine. “Luckily for you, though, you aren’t the one I’m looking for today. You can go to the back with the others.” Luan seemed beside himself with relief as he ran a hand down his face and walked to the back. Lola immediately pulled him into her arms when he reached her and gave him a long hug.

This time Jay brought his attention to Julie. “Now you, my dear, are an interesting one. When you lie, you show almost no tell at all. But I have an eye for detail, and I did notice that you press your lips together ever so slightly when you’re telling a fib. It’s practically imperceptible, but what can I say? I have a talent for this.”

“For crying out loud, will you just get to the point already,” Julie complained, arms folded in a defensive posture.

“You’re not the attacker,” Jay answered her curtly. “Go to the back.”

Julie shot Jay a sharp look that was all, I told you so, then strutted her way over to stand with the rest of us. I locked eyes with Matilda, and she gave me a tiny smile before whispering, “He’s scary good at this, isn’t he?”

I nodded, then only realised Marina was standing behind us when she added, “Your husband has a flair for the dramatic. I wonder if I could tempt him to come and join the circus.”

Matilda smiled at her, shrugged, then returned her attention to the stage, as did I. King and Aiden were the only two men left standing, and a feeling of dread claimed my belly as I remembered Aiden’s behaviour with Bea earlier this morning. He’d been rough and abrupt, and he clearly hadn’t been taking proper care of his little girl. But did that make him a killer? Certainly not.

And then there was King. Such a mystery. Such an enigma. I’d heard so much about what a success he’d been once upon a time. Surely, to be so successful and then end up a homeless drunk meant something really bad must have happened to him. Or maybe he was the one who did the bad thing. Maybe he was the killer. I hated to admit that in an odd way I’d grown fond of King, and I didn’t want it to be him. At same time, I didn’t want it to be Aiden, either, because that would mean Bea would be left without a parent.

God, this was awful. Jay’s attention rested on King for a moment before moving to Aiden, then went back to King.

“Your tell, Mr King, is that you don’t have one. In fact, you really don’t care at all if I know whether you’re lying or telling the truth. Perhaps you’ve lied about far worse things than murder and rape in the past. But then, what’s worse than that? No, I think you’re an example of apathetic nihilism at its finest, and I would love to know the reason as to why. I’m still not even sure if you misled me at all on those first three questions. And this is where the rub lies, because if you don’t have a tell, I can’t determine whether or not you’re lying.”

Jay went silent, eyes flicking back and forth between the two men as he stopped pacing and stood in front of them, feet shoulder width apart and arms folded.

“Fortunately for you,” Jay said while pointing a finger at King before swiping it to Aiden. “Aiden here has quite a spectacular tell. It’s like a big, angry, throbbing vein that pulses in the forehead when a person is angry. Yes, when Aiden lies, he moves his jaw and his left eyebrow shoots right up to heaven. Quite frankly, it’s glorious.” Jay gestured wildly with his hands. “A mentalist’s wet dream, because I barely have to look at you to know you’re lying. You are as transparently deceptive as Luan is transparently honest. And when I asked if you attacked Julie, what happened?”

Aiden was breathing furiously, his eyes narrowed to slits as he adopted the posture of a man being branded with a guilty stamp. Emotion clutched at me, not because I cared about the man, but because I cared about Bea, and I had no idea what was going to happen to her now.

“You worked your jaw and raised your eyebrow,” Jay finished.

Aiden stomped forward and pushed at Jay, almost knocking him over. “You’ve got it wrong! You don’t know anything!”

“I know that you did it,” said Jay confidently, dusting himself off. He didn’t appear at all ruffled that Aiden had hit him. And when Aiden looked like he was about to flee, several stocky men who worked as labourers for the circus came forward and blocked his path. He had nowhere to run. “I also know,” Jay began, pronouncing his words loudly and steadily so that everybody could hear, “that you didn’t act alone.” Now there were several shocked and surprised gasps from the crowd. I moved closer into the warmth of Jack’s body, spooked. No one else in the world made me feel safe the way he did. And what did Jay mean, Aiden hadn’t acted alone? It wasn’t long before I found out.

“Well, at least you didn’t plan the act alone. I don’t mean to insult you, but you don’t possess the intelligence, the flair, to cover up a killing, Aiden. Yes, you have the strength and indeed the fucked-up psychology to do it physically, but you don’t have the shrewd mental acumen for a cover-up.”

A hush came over the gathering, and a chill ran down my spine. I caught movement to my left and saw Julie hurrying through the crowd. In an instant, I recognised that she was trying to slip away before anyone saw. A moment later, Jay began walking towards us, calling out, “Oh, Miss Young, can I have a word?”

It was almost like a spotlight had landed on her, because she stopped dead in her tracks, and all forty-five pairs of eyes went to the beautiful red-headed gymnast. “What do you want?” she hissed, low and furious as she stared at the floor, refusing to meet Jay’s gaze. Jay walked through the gathering, and people parted to let him by. A moment later, he was right in front of Julie. He reached out and caught her chin, tilting it up to make her look at him. She reeled away from his touch, her hatred clear as day in her bright blue eyes.

“When I told you that you’re not the attacker, it was the truth. However, when I told you that you have a tell, I lied. In fact, you have two. You purse your lips when you’re telling an outright lie, but you touch your index finger to your thumb when you’re being deceptive. And when I asked you if you were the attacker, every time your body shouted your deceit. You were involved in Aiden’s crime from the start.”

“I wasn’t,” Julie hissed, but there was a waver in her voice, a solitary tear running down her face as she looked to those around her for support. She found none. Not even from her sisters, who looked positively broken at what they were hearing. “He’s lying! You all have to believe me. We don’t even know this guy. He could be anyone.”

“Oh, please,” Lola cut in as she moved through the crowd, hand in hand with Luan. “Jay Fields is fucking famous. We all know exactly who he is. He’s won awards, for Chrissakes. Now, what I want to know is how the hell you’re involved in all this.” Anger slowly seeped into her voice as she pointed to Aiden. “That man almost raped me, Julie, and I want to know what exactly you had to do with it.”

“I had absolutely nothing to do with it,” Julie replied vehemently. “This thing about tells is all bullshit. The guy is trying to fuck with our heads. Aiden is the guilty one, plain and simple. Other than almost becoming one of his victims, this has nothing to do with me.”

“You lying little tramp,” Aiden fumed, lunging forward as three or four men held him in place. “She’s been blackmailing me for years! Ever since she caught me burying Vera’s body, she’s been holding me hostage, forcing me to do her bidding or else she’d go to the police. I went to Lola’s room that night because Julie told me to. Lola had slighted her in front of everyone, and Julie wanted payback. And since you’ve all been hating her ever since she attacked Lille, she made me rough her up so that you’d all see her as a victim and not the cold bitch that she really is.”

“Shut the hell up, Aiden. Nobody believes you,” Julie spat at him. Her face was red with fury, her hands balled into fists. Her sister Molly let out a pained cry before Mary took her into her arms. They were both shattered at what they were hearing and obviously had no clue what their sister was capable of. I couldn’t say the same myself. Ever since the night I heard her say those cruel things to King in the gazebo, I knew her pretty face masked a rotten core. And then after she attacked me with her own two hands, I was pretty certain she was mad.

I’d been so wrapped up in watching everything unfold that I forgot Jack standing behind me. His hold on my shoulders had tightened further, almost to the point of pain. I twisted around and glanced up at him, taking in his agonised, contorted features. It was difficult for him to hear all this, I could tell. He’d been with Julie sexually with no clue of her true nature.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Stop that. There was no way you could’ve known.”

“I should have, though,” he ground out. “I should have sensed something.”

Julie had begun yelling and screaming like a crazy woman, proclaiming her innocence, but there didn’t seem to be a single person present who believed her. She’d done too much to prove that she was capable of bad things, and now it was all coming back to haunt her. I’d like to say I felt vindicated, but I didn’t. Yes, I was angry that she very well could have killed me when she hit me over the head that time, but mostly I just felt sad that any of this had happened in the first place.

A man and two women held in her in place as Marina pulled out her phone to call the police. Jack led me over to a chair to sit, rubbing my back soothingly even though he was the one who needed soothing. I just wanted to take him back to the camper and lie on his bed and hold him. Talk for hours. Make love. Try to forget the bad things both Aiden and Julie had done.

It wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Italian police were quite impressive to see, all kitted out in their uniforms, weapons strapped to their bodies. Aiden and Julie were handcuffed and led away, and when Bea came looking for her dad, Winnie took her back to her camper for the night. Nobody knew what was going to happen to the little girl, and my heart hurt for her.

Slowly, the gathering started to disperse. There was an air of relief around the circus to know it was all over, but at the same time an air of melancholy. I stood with Matilda and Jack as Jay approached us. He didn’t look smug or self-satisfied that he’d caught the culprits; he just seemed relaxed, happy that he’d been able to help. He approached Matilda and planted a kiss on the top of her head before murmuring something in her ear. Then he turned and made his way to the corner of the tent where King was sitting and called, “Now, Mr King, just like the song, I believe I owe you a supply of cigarettes and alcohol.”

King perked up at his words as Jay threw his arm around the man’s shoulder, not once batting an eyelid at his dirty, unkempt appearance, and led him out of the tent.

***

It wasn’t until the following day that we heard news of Aiden and Julie. Since all three crimes had been committed in different geographic locations, the Italian police were working in conjunction with both the French and British authorities. Lola had always been adamant she didn’t want the police involved, but it was all out of her hands now. Besides, it looked like she’d be safe from her husband now that she had Luan by her side. Every time I saw them together it was clear that he was smitten.

Aiden’s camper was searched top to bottom, but only one piece of evidence was found. There was an old blouse with blood on it tucked behind a ceiling panel, and Marina identified it as belonging to Vera. They still needed to test the blood and match the DNA, but all signs were pointing towards Aiden going to prison for a long time. It made me shiver right down to my toes to think of him keeping the blouse as some kind of trophy.

And then there was Julie. Aiden was clearly feeling spiteful and didn’t want to go down alone, because he gave testimony that Julie had known about his crimes all along, had even incited some of them. It was suspected that there were more cases than those that took place in the circus, not least of which was the fact that Bea’s mother had disappeared years ago and was never seen again. Lots of people were now beginning to think that she was another of Aiden’s victims.

And then there was Bea, poor, sweet, lovely little Bea. Nobody was quite sure what was going to happen to her yet, but Winnie and Antonio had taken her under their wing for now. I even overheard the couple quietly discussing the possibility of adopting her. It warmed my heart and I hoped that they would, because they were good people and Bea deserved to have parents who wanted to look after her.

I was feeling pretty drained myself, and spent most of the morning in bed with Jack. So much had happened, and we talked a lot about Jay and Matilda, and how having them in our lives was going to change things for the better. Jay had already invited both of us to come and stay in Vegas for the month when the circus took a break at the end of the season. Needless to say, my excitement was hitting extreme levels at the very idea.

After lunch, Jack went to help the men take down the tent before we moved on the next day. I situated myself outside his camper, my easel set up and a painting in front of me that was almost complete. It was the picture of Jack on stage, and I was using a number of different shades of orange and yellow to get the flames that surrounded him to look just right. I planned on giving it to him soon as a present, since he’d asked if he could have it previously.

“You look…sweaty,” Jack said, breaking me out of my trance. I’d been so concentrated on the painting that I hadn’t noticed him approach. He stood in front of me, so he couldn’t see the painting, which was good because I wanted it to be a surprise.

Self-consciously, I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, at the same time feeling a tendril of arousal spike through me at his words. I happened to know that he quite liked me sweaty.

“Stay exactly where you are,” I warned him. “Don’t come any closer. I’m trying to finish my painting of you, and I want to give it to you as a present when it’s done.”

He raised a quizzical brow and brought a bottle of water to his mouth, knocking back a gulp. I might have been sweaty, but he was, too. In fact, the way his well-worn grey T-shirt stuck to his torso was a little mesmerising.

“Why does that mean I can’t see it?”

“Because I want it to be a surprise.”

The look in his eye right then told me he thought I was being nutty, but he rolled with it. “Okay. Well, I suppose I should give you a gift, too, if you’re giving me one.”

I grinned at this. “Yes, you should. And it should be something you’ve made yourself, the same as my painting.”

He seemed stumped at this. “Like what?”

“That’s not for me to decide. You need to think of something.”

He went silent for a long moment. I stroked my paintbrush over the final patch of orange, and my heart filled. I was done. The painting was finished. I wanted it to dry first before I gave it to him, though. He was still watching me, and when he saw he had my attention, he crooked his finger at me.

“Come here,” he said, voice low, eyes fixed on the sweat dripping down my neck. I hadn’t checked the temperatures today, but I knew it felt a good deal hotter than usual. Why else would I be perspiring like mad? And since any kind of heat was such a big turn-on for Jack, I could practically sense his arousal like a physical thing.

Swallowing, I rose from my seat and walked to him. He caught my wrist in his hand and pulled me in close, then tilted my neck before capturing my mouth with his. I swear, I wanted to make a moulding of his tongue someday and set it on my mantel, because it was a thing of pure beauty. I loved how it licked at me, all silky and wet. I loved the taste of him. It was my favourite taste of all. His passion grew along with his breathing, and before I knew it, he was crowding me inside the camper, herding me like a predator intent on his prey.

He slammed the door shut. Then he twirled me around and pressed me chest first into the wall, his thick, hard cock grinding against my backside. His hands moved swiftly while his breaths filled my ears, and before I knew it, my skirt was shoved up, my knickers were down, and he was pulling himself out of his pants. Seconds later he was inside me, and I gasped in shock at how quickly and deeply he managed to fill me.

His mouth went to my neck, licking and sucking as his hips thrust in and out, hard and fast. I loved how rough he was, loved how he couldn’t even wait long enough to get me into his bed, he had to take me right here in the lounge, standing up against the wall. Anybody could have walked by and seen us, but right then neither of us cared. In that moment, all we knew were our bodies, all we felt was our mutual pleasure.

He fisted my hair, yanking down on it and twisting my neck so I’d turn to him. He captured my mouth again, giving me his tongue a second time, the motion a mirror to his fucking. I felt invaded, possessed, and as we both raced toward orgasm, I broke the kiss to gasp a fervent declaration.

“I love you, Jack McCabe. I love you so much.”

He smiled, and for a moment I was dazzled by his handsome expression, so full of affection, as he continued to hold my hair like a rein and move his hips in a steady rhythm. “I love you too, flower. Only you. Always.”

When I collapsed against the wall, shivering as I came, Jack followed, and I felt him fill me until he was spent. He picked me up in his arms and carried to his bedroom, our bedroom, where I discovered the fun was not over yet. And man, did Jack McCabe like to play.

Hours later, I was vaguely aware of him leaving the bed and going into the lounge, but I was too exhausted to wake up. I napped for another hour, and when I woke, it was dark outside. I pulled on some clothes and left the room to find Jack sitting watching television and eating a bowl of noodles. I stepped outside, the night air a balm to the sweltering heat of the day, and collected the finished painting that I’d all but abandoned earlier in order to fulfil the needs of my hussy libido.

Jack gave me an indulgent, sexy smile when I carried it in and set it in front of him on the sofa. “I wasn’t going to give this to you until tomorrow, but you outdid yourself and earned some bonus points,” I told him sassily. “So here’s your present.”

Finished eating, he set the bowl aside and lifted the painting onto his lap. His eyes soaked it in, and I crossed my fingers, hoping that he liked it. Several agonising moments passed before he met my gaze, and a smile grew wide across his face. It was the biggest smile I’d ever seen on him; it lit up his features, made him seem so much lighter than the man I met all those weeks ago. The one who never trusted and never let anybody in.

“It’s a masterpiece,” he said finally. “I love how you see me. It makes me feel like I can be the man in the painting.”

“You are the man in the painting, Jack.”

He stood and carried the canvas to the kitchen table, set it down, and then pulled me over to the couch. He wrapped his arms tight around me and rested his head on my shoulder.

“I’m only that man because you made me so,” he whispered, and I shivered. Emotion clutched at my throat, and I found it difficult to form words. He might have thought that I’d made him better, but it went both ways, because he’d made me better, too. He’d shown me that not everybody can be trusted, dulled some of the shine from my eyes, only to make my vision that much clearer. He’d also taught me that, though I can’t trust everyone, I can trust him, and so long as it was within his power, he would never, ever let me down.

“I made you a gift, too, while you slept,” he said, breaking me from my thoughts and surprising me. I hadn’t actually expected him to make me anything. Reaching over to the window ledge, he picked up a folded piece of paper and slid it into my hands. I stared down at it.

“What’s this?” I breathed, suddenly finding that my heart was beating double.

“It’s our story,” Jack answered. “I can’t paint or create much of anything, and really, I’ll never be a writer, but I love words, love learning all the ones I missed out on in the past. So I used my words and wrote you a story.” He paused and laughed self-deprecatingly. “I even used the dictionary to make sure I got all the spellings right.”

I wasn’t sure what it was about that last bit, but the fact he’d wanted to get the spellings right made me even more emotional. He was going to turn me into a sobbing mess before the night was through.

Slowly, I unfolded the paper and read the words, my lungs burning, my heart aching with their raw, simple, honest beauty. I could see our entire journey laid out before me, his words creating the images in my mind, and I knew without a doubt that I was going to paint his words in a mural, keep them forever so I’d never forget a single one.