There I was standing on the front porch of a little log cabin in the middle of the woods with a man I barely knew. I tried to regulate my breathing.  Something about the man left me breathless as I looked at him standing a few feet away grinning from ear to ear. That’s something I could get used to. Seeing him smile at me. I could see a glint of the gold flecks sparkling in his emerald colored eyes as his laughter echoed across the porch. His sandy brown hair was a mess. I watched it ripple as a light wind blew through it. His jaw line was rigid like the rest of his body, but as soon as his smile fully revealed itself, the most impossibly adorable dimples appeared.

I should have been worried that I was alone in a strange place without a dime to my name, dependent on a stranger. I should have been worried that my father had just cut me off today, that I had no clue how I’d even make to the airport in Nashville. I should have been worried that he had demanded that I come home to face a career and a fiancé that I didn’t want. I should have been worried that my best friend was fucking my boyfriend. But none of that seemed to bother me right then. Right then, what I was most worried about was the man standing in front of me. What did he think of me?  Did he feel what I was feeling?  There was an undeniable chemistry between us. I shouldn’t want this after everything had I just been through, but the butterflies in my stomach were telling me something very different.

As I was waiting for him to unlock the door, I noticed the roof line of a very large structure to the east of the cabin. I couldn’t tell what it was, a house maybe—a very large one, or maybe a lodge?  “Jack, what’s that place over there?” I pointed in the direction of the massive roof.

“That’s—uh, that’s the main house.”

“Who lives there?” He was acting odd, like I’d asked a personal question—one that he didn’t want to answer.

“Belongs to the owner.”

I smiled at him and he smiled back and asked, “The owner of the farm?” 

“Yes.” All I got was the one-word answer, obviously, he didn’t want to talk about it.

I couldn’t help but look down at his ass as he unlocked the door. It was probably the best ass I had ever seen, and the way his faded jeans hugged it perfectly made me want to reach down and touch it, but I stopped myself. I took a step closer and I was overcome again with his scent, it was woodsy but clean.

Nothing about him added up.  I could tell the jeans he wore had faded from washing, they were not bought that way. They had a hole in the knee, but it was clearly from wear, not strategically placed like the ripped jeans you’d find in department stores.  They hugged his thighs just enough to see the pure muscle behind them and fell atop brown boots that were leather and worn in just the right way—they didn’t look like the shiny ones I’d seen on the men in Nashville.

But the white dress shirt he was wearing with sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular forearms looked pressed, like it had just come from the dry cleaners. And the watch he wore, it was expensive. Nothing like that outrageously expensive one I had bought for Jonathan, but it was high quality, one that would last forever, one like I would buy for myself. But it was doubtful that a farm hand could afford a watch like that. Was it a gift? Did he have a girlfriend? Why did the thought of him having a girlfriend make my stomach turn?

Jack opened the door and reached in and flipped the light and held the door open for me. “Come on in.” I walked in front of him and noticed the unfinished wood floors beneath my sock feet. I quickly scanned the place. It wasn’t decorated. There was a large stone fireplace and I watched as Jack immediately walked towards it and bend down to start a fire that was already built and waiting. “There’s no heat—it’s kind of cool in here, but the fire will warm it up in no time.” He looked at me with a smile that contained a hint of apology.

“Your place is charming, Jack.” I said as I ran my hand along the soft old leather couch sitting in front of the fireplace.

He laughed. “Yeah, well, I would offer to give you a tour, but you can pretty much see the whole place from where you’re standing.”  I smiled at him and he kept talking. “The kitchen is there to your left and the bedroom is through that door right there. The bathroom is through the bedroom. You can stay in there tonight.”  I was listening to him, but I couldn’t help but make my way to the back wall of the cabin, which was glass from ceiling to floor. I couldn’t see outside because it was so dark. Jack walked up behind me and flipped a switch on the wall beside me.

Light immediately cascaded away from the cabin turning the darkness into light. There was a small stone patio with two rocking chairs. But past the porch was the most amazing view I had ever seen, even though it was shrouded in darkness. There was a beautifully serene lake backing up to the property.  “Wow, you’re lucky Jack, I bet it’s amazing to wake up every morning to this view. It must be so peaceful.” I turned to look at him. His eyes looked down at me as I tried to imagine what was going through his mind. I think it was a mixture of confusion and need. He couldn’t decide if I had meant what I said.

But I meant what I said. I had never seen anything like it. My father was the least outdoorsy person on the face of the earth. Growing up in the suburbs of Boston, there was not much nature to behold and his idea of spending time in the great outdoors was accepting an invitation once a year to spend the weekend on his business partner’s yacht. I always dreamed of him bringing me to a place like this when I was a kid. I imagined him taking me fishing or for a ride in a canoe and us sitting next to a campfire roasting marshmallows.

I looked up a Jack. “I mean it, this place is incredible.” He laughed and shook his head.

“You are surprising Claire. So, tell me what you need.”

I looked at him confused, “Huh?”

“You’ve had a hell of a day today. I’ve had a few of those. I know at the end of one of those days, I like to try to clear my head, relax, forget about things for the night, and start fresh in the morning. Things always look better in the morning. So, tell me what you need. How can I help you relax?” 

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. Did he really just offer to help me relax?  Did he ask what I needed? I needed his mouth on mine. I needed his hands on me. I needed to run my fingers through his hair and feel his whispers in my ear and his tongue on my neck. Oh god, I needed to snap out of it.

I cleared my throat. “So, what do you do here to relax?”

He smirked at me. “Well, I usually like to go fishing or read a good book. But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

I walked over to the small bookshelf on the opposite side of the wall. It was mostly filled with classics that appeared to be well read. I ran my finger over the spine of ‘The Adventures of Huckleberry Fin.’

I looked up at him with a smile feeling a blush come over my cheeks, “You surprise me too Jack. What kind of relaxing did you have in mind?”

He winked at me. “Nothing as sorted as what you’re thinking. Something to drink or eat, a shower maybe?” 

I laughed, “Actually, all three of those things sound great.”

He smiled, “Good. You shower. I’ll make us something to eat. Then we’ll drink.”

“I hope you have something stronger than coffee.”

“Come on, I’ll get you some clean towels.”

He grabbed my suitcase and I followed him into the tiny bedroom and he put my suitcase on the bed. I watched him walk towards the bathroom and I ran my hand over the beautiful blue and white quilt on the antique iron bed. It was cotton, but it had been washed so many times, it felt like silk. “This is beautiful, is it handmade?”

He looked back at me touching the bed. “Yep. My mama made it.” 

“Wow, she’s very talented, does she sell them?”

“She and my father passed away when I was sixteen.”

I cringed. I knew what it felt like to lose a parent, I couldn’t imagine losing both at once. I looked up at him and saw a moment of sadness sweep through his beautiful eyes. “I’m so sorry Jack. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost my mom to cancer when I was six, but I can’t imagine losing both of them.”

He smiled at me. “Yep. It sucks. But it was a long time ago. Here are a couple of clean towels. Let me know if you need anything else.” He walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

I jumped in the little shower wanting to finish as quickly as I could, so I could get back to Jack. It was weird, I already missed him. But more than anything, I wanted to wash off everything that was Jonathan. I couldn’t believe how naïve I had been.

After my shower, I stood with a towel wrapped around me staring into my suitcase trying to decide what to wear. I opted for a pair of yoga leggings a tank top and a pale blue cashmere cardigan. But first I put on the pale pink lace panties I had packed in case I decided to give myself to Jonathan. The thought made me cringe. After I dressed, I turned around and looked in the mirror, trying to decide if I should put on some makeup or do something with my hair. It seemed ridiculous to put on a lot of makeup, so I just went for a little mascara and a touch of pale pink lip gloss. My hair was mostly dry falling in soft waves around my shoulders. I usually straightened it, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.

I walked out of the bedroom and saw Jack standing in the kitchen. There was an old black iron skillet sitting on the stove and a wooden cutting board next to it, with little piles of onion, mushroom, tomato, and grated cheese. He was whisking eggs in a bowl. I cleared my throat and he turned around. He smiled at me and put the bowl down on the counter and took a few steps towards me. “Claire, you look…”  He didn’t finish, it was if he was searching for the right words.

I raised an eyebrow. He was a couple of feet away. He took a step closer. He reached up and touched a strand of my hair resting on my shoulder, twirling it between his fingers. Our eyes met, and I was sure he was going to kiss me. But instead, he jerked his hand away like he hadn’t even realized he was touching me. “You look a lot more comfortable.”

I laughed. “Is that a diplomatic way of saying I need to put on some makeup and fix my hair?” 

“No, not at all, you look, uh, natural---perfect, really. Have a seat Freckles, I hope you like omelets.”  I blushed and put my hands over my face, wishing I’d put on some makeup.

He laughed. “Don’t you dare cover them up, they’re beautiful. So, are you okay with an omelet?”  He asked as he went back to whisking the eggs.

“That sounds great.”

I looked down at the table he had set for us. The dishes were antique bright blue and white. I recognized the pattern and wondered if they were handed down from his parents or grandparents or if he even knew what a treasure they were. There were white cloth napkins folded neatly at each place with silverware set neatly where everything was supposed to go, and a heavy blue antique glass sat at each place setting filled with ice water. I laughed to myself, the only thing that was missing was a centerpiece and the table could have been a picture in Martha Stewart’s magazine.

I watched him as he cooked, feeling like I was in a dream. He was like no other man I had ever met. A few minutes later he came over and with the skillet and spatula and put the most mouth-watering omelet I had ever seen down on my plate. He returned to the stove to make one for himself and looked over his shoulder, “Go ahead and eat, it’s better if it doesn’t get cold.”

I realized I hadn’t spoken. “This looks delicious Jack, I’m impressed.” 

“Don’t be impressed until you taste it.” He winked at me.

I was starving. The only thing I’d had to eat all day was that slice of pie that Suzie had given me because Jonathan refused to stop at any restaurant that we had seen all day, saying none of them looked good enough. I put my napkin in my lap and picked up my fork and took a small bite of the cheesy goodness that melted in my mouth. I couldn’t help but moan as I removed the fork from my lips. Jack laughed, “I take it that means you like it.”

“Oh, my goodness, Jack, this is the best omelet I have ever had.”

He kept laughing, “It’s the eggs, they’re very fresh.”

“Are they from the farm?” I asked excitedly

“Yep.”

“You have chickens?” I’m sure I sounded like a five-year-old, but being in the country was all new to me.

“Yep. We have a few.”

He brought his omelet to the table and sat down across from me smiling, his green eyes twinkling, obviously amused by my excitement.

“What other animals do you have?” I asked, shoveling another bite of the deliciousness in my mouth.

“We have a few horses, a couple of pigs, some cattle, and a goat—he belongs to the farm manager, the goat’s name is Billy, he and Ted have a love-hate relationship.”

I laughed, wishing I could see all the animals.  “What do you grow?”

“Soybeans.”

“Is that it?”

“Yep. Pretty much. I mean there’s a vegetable garden, but that just supplies food for the farm.”

As we ate, I asked him a million different questions about the farm. At first, I think he thought I was feigning interest but at some point, I think he realized I genuinely wanted to learn and started explaining everything in detail and his eyes lit up as talked about it. There was no doubt he was passionate about what he did. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be passionate about something.

When we finished eating, I stood up to collect the dishes from the table. He scooted his chair back from the table to get up. “Don’t get up. I’ll do the dishes. You just made me the best omelet I’ve ever had, it’s the least I can do.” I carried the dishes to the sink and rinsed off the first plate. Then I started looking around. Jack started laughing. “What are you laughing at? I can’t find the dishwasher.” 

“Turn around.” I turned to look at him and he was sitting there with his arms crossed with a smirk on his face. “You’re looking at him.”

“I’m looking at what?”

“You’re looking at the dishwasher.”

I could feel my cheeks turning red. “No problem. I got this.” I turned on the water and looked down at the stopper in the sink. I reached down to turn it, but the water kept draining. It looked like it was in, but the sink wasn’t filling up. I heard his laughter coming closer.

“You have never washed a dish in your life, have you?”  He was clearly teasing me, but it bothered me that he was right. He hip checked me and reached over and turned the little black knob on the stopper and the sink started to fill with water. Then he grabbed the dish soap and put a couple of drops in. “Scoot over. I’ve got this.”

“No way,” I argued. “I want to do it.” He threw a dish towel at me.

“I’ll let you dry.”

“Nope. I’m washing. You dry.” I threw the towel back at him and he stepped aside laughing.

“Whatever you say Freckles, have at it.”

I managed to wash the rest of the dishes without making a complete fool out of myself, but that didn’t stop the amusement from dancing in his impossibly beautiful eyes. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to slap him or kiss him. All I knew was that standing that close to him, smelling him, feeling his arm brush against me, made me completely crazy. My stomach was flip-flopping with butterflies and I needed some distance between us before I jumped him.

As he put the last of the dishes away, I leaned against the counter and asked, “What’s next?”

“Next we drink.”

“What are we drinking?”

“You have your choice of whiskey or beer, pretty girl.”

My heart fluttered at the nickname. I grinned. “Both.”

He laughed. “You sure are something, Claire. Both it is. Go over and have a seat by the fire.”  I went over and sat on the corner of the sofa and tucked my feet underneath me. He came back a few seconds later with two bottles of beer, two shot glasses, and a bottle of green label Jack Daniels. He set it all down on the coffee table and went over to put some logs on the fire.

“Tennessee whiskey of course.” I teased.

“There’s no other kind, darlin’,” he said as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa and opened the bottle. He handed me the ice-cold beer poured two shots of whiskey handing me one. “What should we drink to?”

I grinned mischievously at him. “Let’s play a drinking game. I ask you a question and if you answer honestly, I drink and then it’s your turn to ask.”

He laughed, “So basically truth or dare, without the dare. Sounds dangerous.”

“You chicken?”

“Hell no. Ask your question.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He laughed. “No. Now, drink.”

As much as I loved his answer, I wanted to know more. “Oh, come on Jack, you have to give me more than that. If you don’t, this is going to be a really short game and we’ll both get really drunk.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. I had a girlfriend. We dated for a really long time, since I was a kid. We broke up a couple of years ago and I haven’t dated anyone seriously since then. Satisfied?”

I grinned at him and threw back the shot. “For now. I might have a follow-up. Your turn.”

“Okay, was tonight the first time you ever washed dishes?”

“Uggh…yes. Okay? But don’t make fun of me. I spent most of my childhood in a boarding school and at home, we had Nanna, and she did all of the cooking and she was super particular about the kitchen—she wouldn’t let me near it.”

“Was she your grandmother?”

“That’s a separate question, but I’ll let it slide. No, she worked for us, she was my nanny and she cooked, but she was like family to me. Now drink. It’s my turn.” I didn’t like where this was heading, I didn’t want him to think I was some spoiled brat out of touch with reality.

“Did you go to college?”

He chuckled, with amusement in his eyes. “Yes. I went to the University of Tennessee. I have a degree in Agriculture.”

“Of course, you do, your turn again.”

“Same question.”

“I went to Brown, got a degree in business and then to Wharton for an MBA, I graduated a year ago.”

His face sobered. “Impressive Freckles. Would’ve never guessed you were a brainiac and an ivy leaguer. I better start pouring half shots, or we’ll be in trouble.”

For the next hour, we traded questions about favorite colors, ice cream flavors, music, movies, and books. I was no longer keeping up with who was supposed to be drinking when and I’m pretty sure I had had two shots for every one of his and I was definitely feeling it. The more we talked, the less space there was between us. I think we both had unconsciously inched closer together finally meeting in the middle of the couch facing each other, our knees touching. I was drawn to him in a way I had never been drawn to anyone.

As much fun as we were having, I wanted to know something real about him, I wanted to know more.  “My turn. What is that you love about farming?”

He smiled at me, “Good one Freckles. God, I don’t know. It’s always been a part of me. I always knew it was what I would do. But to answer your question, I think I love it because it’s real. I mean it’s tangible. Planting the seeds, watching them grow, harvesting the plants, and knowing that you are helping to feed millions of people around the world. It’s fulfilling. Like I know it matters, it makes a difference what I do.”

I loved his passion. I loved the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about the farm. I wanted that. “That’s what I want too. It’s what I need to find.”

He cocked his head playfully, “You wanna work on a farm too?”

I laughed, “No. Well maybe. Well, I don’t know. I just want to be passionate about what I do like you are. I want to do something real, something like you said that makes a difference. I wish I already had it figured out.”

He nodded his head, “I get it Claire, but don’t worry about it. You’re young, you just finished school and you’re intelligent. You have your whole life ahead of you. I know you’ll figure it out.” He looked down in his lap and the next thing I knew his hand was on my knee. He was moving his thumb back and forth and that tiny caress was sending me over the edge. I could feel the need for him throughout my entire body. His touch electrified me sending waves of butterflies fluttering through my stomach and a dull aching need began to form between my legs. That had never happened to me before. He had barely touched me, and I wanted him like I had never wanted another man.

His beautiful voice interrupted me from my indecent thoughts. “I have a question and if you don’t want to answer, just say pass. But I’m curious, what did your Dad mean today when he said that your year is up?”

My stomach clenched. I thought about taking a pass, but something inside of me knew I wanted to open up to him. I didn’t want to be the shallow spoiled princess he met in the diner and I knew in my heart that I wasn’t. I needed him to see who I was, I needed him to see me.

I took in a deep breath. “Up until last year, I have always done everything my father has ever asked of me. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I made straight A’s. I focused on school. I followed every single rule. I mean it, my teenage years were pathetic. I never once snuck out to meet a boy. I didn’t take a sip of alcohol until I was twenty-one. But it never bothered me. Somehow it was worth it to me to have my father look at me with pride in his eyes. All I ever really wanted was to please him. I am not even sure why. He never put a lot of pressure on me. He worked like a crazy person, so maybe I just wanted his attention. I don’t know. But when I finished grad school, I went straight back to Boston and I started working for my father’s company, just like he had always planned. I wasn’t there a week when I realized that I was living his dream, not mine. I didn’t want to stand in his shadow. And I kept imagining myself going into that office every day for the rest of my life and the thought was suffocating. I felt like I was drowning.”

I stopped for a second to look at his face, to try to gauge what he was thinking but he was looking at me intently, without emotion. I took a swig of beer. “I know how it sounds. Believe me, ‘oh poor Claire, she has been given the whole world on a silver platter and it’s not good enough for her.’” Jack smiled at me and squeezed my knee.

“Stop Claire, it doesn’t sound like that at all. It sounds to me like you have worked hard your whole life and you deserve to make your own choices about what to do with your life.”

“Wait,” I said taking another gulp of beer. “It gets better. It wasn’t just the job. My father has decided that I need to marry his business partner’s son. He arranges dinners for us. It seems it was decided a long time ago, like I’m some part of a business arrangement. It’s like some damn merger or something. And let me tell you, the guy is awful. I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen him laugh since we were in the third grade and he is the most stuck up self-important snob I’ve ever met. In fact, he has made it clear that if it weren’t for the fact that I have more money than him, he would never consider marriage. He thinks his DNA is superior because his wealth dates back generations. My dad was poor, which makes me low class, apparently. I can’t stand the guy. I don’t get why my father would want me to be with someone like that.”

I looked up at Jack to see a moment of anger pass over his face—was is jealousy?  I don’t know. I took another drink and continued. “So, me being the big coward that I am, went to my father and told him that I wasn’t ready. Instead of just saying there is no way I will marry R.J. and I don’t want to work at your company, I said I’m not ready yet. I told him I needed a break. He agreed and said that I could do anything I wanted for a year. I had no idea what I wanted to do, all I knew was that I didn’t want to work for my father and I didn’t want to marry R.J., so anything sounded better than that. I decided to move to New York. I thought maybe living in the city would be my first real adventure, that I would meet interesting people, figure what to do with my life. But it didn’t turn out like that. I made the horrible mistake of calling an old friend of mine from boarding school, Amber. She was more than ready for an adventure, but her parents were not about to fund it. So, I did. We moved into a loft and all she wanted to do was shop, go to the spa, to fancy restaurants, and the most exclusive clubs. So that’s what we did. I had no clue what I wanted, so I just went along. After about six months, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just sort of spent my days at museums and my nights in my apartment, while Amber kept living it up. But then I met Jonathan a couple of months ago, but that’s a whole other story.”

I looked up at Jack again, his eyes were kind and sympathetic. “Claire.”

I interrupted him. “No. Jack. Everything my dad said was right. I spent a crazy amount of money. I don’t even know how much. He just paid the bills. I feel like I used him just like Amber and Jonathan used me. I hate the person you met at the diner today. It wasn’t the real me. My year was up three weeks ago, and I wasted it and I don’t want to face my father.” I took a deep breath and prayed that the tears forming behind my eyes would not surface.

“Claire listen. You’re being too hard on yourself. I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But you should tell your father. You should tell him you don’t want to work for him and more than anything, you have to tell him you won’t marry that douchebag. It probably won’t be easy for him to hear but I’m sure he’ll understand eventually. He must love you right, you’re his only daughter and he should realize you’re incredible. I mean I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and I’ve already figured it out.”

I felt a lone tear drop down my cheek. But that didn’t stop my heart from pounding or the smile from spreading across my face. “You think I’m incredible?”

“I do Freckles.” He said as he reached up and wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Do you love him?”

“Huh? Who? My father?”

He smiled at me, his face turning a little red. “No. Jonathan? I was curious about Jonathan.”

I laughed. “No way Jack. Not your turn. I just answered a big question. My turn.” I wanted him back in the hot seat. “Why did you break up with your girlfriend? What happened?”

He leaned back against the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. I could tell he didn’t want to answer. “I’m not really sure who broke up with who. We dated since high school. We were together for almost ten years on and off. A couple of years ago, I decided to propose. It just seemed like the natural progression of things. I bought her the ring she always wanted and got down on one knee. She basically said the only way she’d marry me was if—well she didn’t want to live on the farm. She wanted to be in a city. I guess she always pictured us in Nashville in the suburbs. The crazy thing was, I was thinking about it. I was thinking about giving up farming, but then I found out she was fucking some lawyer from Nashville and that made my decision easy. It’s been two years, but I’m starting to realize I didn’t really know her, or at least I didn’t really see who she was.”

I resisted the urge to reach up and run my fingers through his hair. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to comfort him. “No offense Jack. But she sounds like a real bitch. How could she ask you give up something you love so much? It sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

He burst out laughing. “You are so right about that Freckles, you have no idea.” He looked over at me and I could tell the distance between us wasn’t going to last for long. His eyes were filled with want and need and I’m sure mine were too. I reached down and put my hand over his and he intertwined his fingers with mine. “So, are you going to answer my question now?” He grinned as he caressed the back of my hand with his thumb.

“What?”

“Jonathan?”

“Oh right. Do I love him? No. Did I love him? No. But I cared I about him and he sure as hell had me convinced that he cared about me. What I hate most about it is that I didn’t see it. I couldn’t see that all he cared about what the stuff I bought him, the dinners, the clubs. How did I not notice that?”

“I think it’s hard sometimes especially when you want the see the best in someone.”

“I guess so. Is it weird to say that right about now that I’m grateful for him?”

“Yeah, that’s weird Claire. The guy was a douche. I could tell the second I saw him. You are so out of his league. No way that guy is good enough for you.”

I laughed, and I loved it that he seemed jealous. “Tell me what you really think Jack. But what I going to say was that I’m grateful for him, because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you. Seriously, after such a shitty day, tonight has been the best.”

He reached up again and was rubbing my cheek with his thumb. “It’s crazy isn’t? You and me—this, whatever it is, I feel like we’ve known each other for years. You’re easy to talk to Claire.”

Kiss me damn it! Kiss me. “I feel the same way.” I looked at him smiling wondering if I should make the first move. I couldn’t, the whiskey was making me brave, but I didn’t think I could stand it if he rejected me. “What’s your ex-girlfriend’s name?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s Tiffany, why?”

“I was just thinking that Jonathan and Tiffany might make a good pair.”

He laughed and poured us each a half-shot and handed me a glass. “Let’s toast.”

“To what?”

“To dodging bullets.”

I brought the glass up to my lips and swallowed down the whiskey. “No kidding, and to think I almost handed over my virginity to that guy.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Did I really just say that out loud?

I could feel the heat immediately rise to my cheeks. God, I must be drunk. Why the hell would I say that? I glanced up at Jack. He looked dumbfounded. Of course, he didn’t know what to say. What would you say to something like that? I covered my face with my hands. “Oh God Jack, I so did not mean to say that out loud. I think I’ve had too much whiskey. Can we please pretend I didn’t say that?”

I peeked through my hand and Jack was smiling at me with playfulness in his eyes. “Really Claire? You think I’m just gonna let that one slide. You have to tell me, how is this possible? You are twenty-five. You’re beautiful—I mean drop dead gorgeous.”

“God this is so embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Tell me.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I made some pledge or promise or something. I’m not saving myself for marriage. It’s just I guess when most girls were losing their virginity, I was doing calculus or something nerdy like that. I didn’t go to parties. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I went on dates to dances but I always was home by curfew. And then college, I don’t know. I was super focused on school. I guess I never found the right guy.”

“And you thought Jonathan might be the right guy?”

“I don’t know, after we went on a few dates, I told him. He made a big deal about how he was going to be patient—I didn’t even ask him to be patient, but hell, no wonder. He didn’t need sex, he was getting plenty from my roommate.”

“Fuck that guy. You’re lucky you found out when you did. I swear he was nowhere near good enough for you.”

“What about all the rest of the time you were in New York?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to just hand it over to some guy I met in a club one night.”

“What about some guy you met in a diner one night?”  He asked with a mischievous grin.

I reached over playfully smacked him on the arm. “Now you’re just making fun of me.”

“I’m not Claire. Well, maybe teasing a little.” He reached up and put both hands on my cheeks. “But it makes me admire you more. I think you should wait for the right guy. Whoever he is, he’ll be damn lucky. That’s for sure.”

I want it to be you. His hands were clutching my face. Our eyes were locked. He finally pulled me towards him. Our lips met for one soft sensuous kiss. He looked up at me with questioning eyes, as if to ask if it was okay. Our lips met for another and then another. He pulled back again. This time I moved towards him wanting to taste him, wanting to feel the softness of his lips against mine. As soon as our lips touched, mine parted, as if by instinct, needing more, craving more. Our tongues danced in harmony. Every second that passed with his mouth on mine made me want more. It was too much and too little all at the same time. I had never felt this way. I ran my fingers through his soft hair pulling him closer to me with desperation. I couldn’t get enough. The kiss was perfect. He was perfect.

Then he pulled away. No don’t stop. Please don’t stop. “God Claire. You are so fucking perfect,” he whispered in my ear. Jack rested his forehead on mine as we both tried to catch our breath. I was just about to claim his mouth with mine for a second time when he pulled away. I could tell he didn’t want to, I could see it in his eyes, that he was having some sort of internal struggle. I clasped my fingers around the back of his neck. “Kiss me again Jack.” I whispered smiling at him. He smiled back at me as he unclasped my fingers, moving my arms in front of him. He leaned down and kissed both of my hands.

“You, little girl, are drunk,” he said as he playfully tapped my nose with his index finger. “Time for you to go to bed.”

“No way. I’m not tired.” I whined.

He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. “Come on Claire. You have a big day tomorrow. Tomorrow is the first day of Claire Hawkins’ new life. Now go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. I’m putting you to bed. I’ll meet you in there.”

I giggled as I stood up, “Well since you’re taking me to bed, I guess I’ll meet you in there.”

I could hear him call from the kitchen, “Putting you to bed, not taking you to bed, there’s a difference Freckles.”

I stood in front of the mirror brushing my teeth, wishing I could sober up. My mind was cloudy from the whiskey. But my body knew what it wanted. I wanted Jack more than I had ever wanted anything. Everything felt completely right when I was in his arms. That kiss wasn’t enough. I had to have more. I heard him walk in the bedroom. I took off my sweater and adjusted my tank top. I wasn’t wearing a bra. Feeling extra brave, I peeled off my leggings and threw them in a pile in the corner of the bathroom. If he wasn’t going to give me more, I wanted him to see what he was missing. I opened the bathroom door and stood in the doorway. He was pulling an extra pillow and a blanket from the closet.

“You know Jack, the bed is big enough for the both of us. There’s no need for you to sleep on the couch.”  Wow. I can’t believe I just said that. He looked over his shoulder to see me standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a white tank top and my pink lace thong. His eyes shifted downward as he when he realized I was basically wearing nothing.

“Damn Claire. Are you trying to kill me?” 

“What, you didn’t expect me to sleep in my leggings and a sweater, did you?” I smiled at him before I walked extra slowly towards the bed so that he could get a good view of me from behind. I was shamelessly teasing him, but I didn’t care.

“You better get that lush little ass to bed before I lose it, Freckles.”

I slid into the bed where he had turned down the covers. He walked over and stood beside me. I was hoping he would tell me to scoot over, but instead, he picked up a bottle of water from the bedside table and twisted off the top. “Here, drink this. All of it.” Then he handed me two Advil. “Take these too. If you don’t, you’re going to feel like shit in the morning. I’ll be right back. Drink all of that.” He said as he walked into the bathroom.

When he came out, he walked back over and stood beside me again. He pulled back the covers a little. “Scooch down.” I don’t know why, but I just did what he said snuggling into the fresh smelling cotton sheets. He tucked me in and turned off the lamp beside me. Then he crouched down beside the bed and brushed my hair away from my face. “Sleep well pretty girl.” He whispered as he kissed me on the forehead. “I wish you weren’t leaving me tomorrow.”

“Me neither.” I hated the thought of it. It made my stomach turn. One night with him wasn’t enough. “Jack,” I called to him before he left the room.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking care me tonight.”

“Don’t thank me, Claire. There’s no need.”