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Shrugging, he said, “This was my home. I didn’t blame anyone. I mean, I went through the five stages of grief when I realized I’d never play football again, but that’s when it occurred to me that I’d suffered a little bit of pain now instead of a lifetime filled with regret for stupid choices. I didn’t have to be Jack the Golden Boy any longer. I could just be Jack.”
Jo continued to hold his gaze to the point he wondered if she was struggling with the temptation to kiss him as much as he was fighting the pull to kiss her.
The bubble broke when she shook her head, let her arms drop from around his neck, and moved back. “You really are an amazing person.”
He waved her off. “Eh, it was either come to terms with it or let it rule me. I wasn’t keen on the latter.” He eyed her. “Did you ever consider staying in Wishing Well?” More than anything, he wanted to hear the answer to the next question. “Or ever thought about moving back?”
She had a slight hesitation, like she was debating what to say. “No.” Although, the way she said it, it wasn’t as cut and dry as she was making it out to be.
“Oh.” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
“My mom… everywhere I go, I see my mom.” She sat quietly for a minute. “Things were never the same after my dad left. She became so hypercritical, almost mean, like she didn’t know how to process her emotions, so she took it out on me. Then, right after I turned thirteen, she dumped me on my grandma’s porch and said she was done. Grandma tried everything to convince her to come back, but my mom changed her number, and I never saw her again.”
Jack was speechless. He couldn’t fathom his parents doing anything close to what Jo’s mom did. They’d been supportive of his football career and even more so when he returned home injured. They never pushed him or said anything derogatory while he floundered for a while. The entire time, they loved him. For all their faults, they were great parents.
“I’m so sorry, Jo.”
She lifted her head and palmed his arm. “It’s okay. I was still pretty angry when I left for New York, but I realized a few years ago that I needed to let it go. I was hurting myself, and it was stupid. Doesn’t mean I’m ready to be confronted with her at every stop, but I’ve let the anger go.”
He covered her hand with his. “That’s good.”
The gesture was small, but the change in atmosphere was noticeable. The air felt charged, like a lightning storm had formed inside his apartment. The hair on his arms stood on end, and his heart felt zapped. Their eyes met, silence drawing out. He wasn’t sure if he was moving closer or she was, or if it was a mutual meeting in the middle. Her tongue darted across her bottom lip ,making his pulse race dangerously high.
Maybe he was getting that kiss tonight, after all.
A car backfiring outside broke the spell, and Jo jumped up. “Well, I guess I should get back home.”
Inwardly, he was muttering all sorts of words that weren’t fit for proper company. He shook off the need to kiss her and reasoned that it was probably for the best. He didn’t need to kiss her when there was a good possibility she wouldn’t stay in Wishing Well.
Jack grunted as he stood and shook out his hip. It’d been okay when he sat down, but it was a little stiff now.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking a step closer.
“Yeah.” His lips twisted as a dull ache throbbed.
Her lips turned down, and her eyebrows drew together. “I knew you’d worked too hard today. You should take tomorrow off. There’s no reason to push yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. A good night’s rest, and I’ll be good to go.”
He could see in her eyes that she was debating whether or not to argue with him.
Her shoulders loosened, and she nodded. “All right.”
Jack followed her to the door, working to keep the limp that sometimes came with the stiff joints from being noticeable. He was being honest, though; it’d be fine in the morning.
She opened the door and turned as she stepped outside. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
What happened next was neither planned nor thought. Jack just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “Thanks for dinner.”
Talk about fitting. Her head fit under his chin, giving him just enough room if he wanted so that he could rest his chin on the top of her head. Her body filled every nook and cranny of his. She was just right. She felt great in his arms. Soft and feminine and all the things in between that he’d had no idea he was looking for. Perfect. The word was perfect.
Leaning back, he loosened his grip on her a fraction. Her gaze traveled up his chest, finally reaching his. The word kissable flashed in neon. It was so tempting. Almost too tempting, but somewhere in his mind screamed she wasn’t ready, and he knew it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.” Then she popped up on her toes, brushed her lips against his cheek, and dashed down the stairs.
Instead of a hit and run, she was a kiss and run, and he felt about as dazed from that as he suspected getting hit by a car would be.
