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I hear his mother call out, but I can’t see her. “Jack Henry?”
“Yes, Mum. We’re here. I’m going to put our things away and we’ll be down in a minute.”
I follow him up the stairs and he takes me into his large bedroom. I’m a little surprised to see a four-poster bed. It’s very romantic and doesn’t fit what I’d expect to see in a man’s room. I walk over and run my hand down one of the thick pillars. We need this bed at Avalon. I could definitely do some interesting things with it.
We go downstairs to the living room to join Lachlan’s family and I remind myself the whole way that he’s not Lachlan. He’s Jack Henry. “Jack Henry.”
He turns at the sound of his name. His real name. The name only his mother calls him. “What is it?”
This is going to take some getting used to. “Nothing. I’m saying your name so I can get used to it. I’m afraid of slipping up.”
“Don’t worry. If you have a slip of the tongue, we’ll tell them Lachlan is your pet name for me. Not caveman.”
“I guess that will work. It is part of your last name. Is that why you chose it?”
“I picked it because I wanted to hear you say some semblance of who I really am.”
“Do you always do that?”
“No, just with you.”
Damn. The conversation ends as we enter the living room. I’d really like to know his rationale behind the things he does. I’m hopeful that this conversation is only postponed until a later time.
After spending the evening with the McLachlan family, I’m in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I thought meeting them would help me understand why Jack Henry is the way he is, but it only makes things feel more out of sorts. They’re all so normal. And loving. Theirs isn’t the kind of family I would expect for a man who propositions women for meaningless sexual relationships.
I search through my sleepwear, if that’s what we’re calling it, and choose the least desirable thing I packed, but who am I kidding? This is the same man I’ve been living with for the past two months. He isn’t going to perceive a short, black satin nightgown as anything but a prelude to sex.
I stop in the doorway of the bathroom before entering his bedroom. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to sleep together in your parents’ house? It doesn’t feel right.”
He’s lying shirtless in bed with his hands folded behind his head. I sigh with pure pleasure as I behold the sight of him. “Trust me. Mum would have it no other way.”
I come to the bed but stop to run my hand down the large post. I love this bed.
“Are you going to give me a private dance on one of these poles tonight?”
Even after all this time together, his forwardness is shocking—he wants to get frisky in his childhood home with his family across the hall? “No way, not in your parents’ house. It would be disrespectful.”
He gets out of bed and catches me before I climb in. He reaches around me from behind and puts my hands around the bedpost. He locks his hands on top of mine to hold them in place so I can’t move. His breath is warm on the back of my neck and chills erupt all over my body. He doesn’t play fair. “You’re telling me no?”
“I would be mortified if your family heard us.”
His mouth is on my earlobe and he sucks it into his mouth before nipping it with his teeth. “I don’t care. Let them hear us.”
“No.” It comes out more like a weak plea than the stern command I intended.
He groans against my ear. “I don’t like it when you tell me no.”
He’s whining but it’s adorable. “I know you don’t hear it often, but ‘no’ can be a very good answer for you to hear from time to time.”
“Tell me one time when it’s good.”
“Okay.” I look at him over my shoulder, “Ask me if I’m pregnant.”
His body becomes rigid before he backs away from me. He releases my hands and I turn around to look at him. “Ask me.”
“Are you pregnant?” It comes out as a whisper.
I lift a brow at him. “Do you want my answer to be yes or no?”
I smile, waiting for him to catch on to the point I’m making, but he stares blankly at me. “Are you?”
I smile as I answer. “No. See? Perfect example of when ‘no’ is exactly what you need to hear.”
He runs his hands through his dark hair and fists it. “Don’t ever f**k with me like that, Laurelyn!” he yells. “Never!”
I flinch, startled by the loud outburst I’m certain his family must have heard. Shit, he’s mad—like, really mad. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was only making a point.”
I’m afraid I’ve screwed up big time. I feel the pooling in my eyes and I look toward the ceiling, pleading with my sockets to drink the tears. I hold my breath and cup my hands over my mouth to hold back the sob in my chest.
In my confusion over what has just happened, I go for the wrong door in an attempt to get away from him. “That’s the closet.”
Shit if I care. I walk into the small pitch-black room where Lachlan’s clothes hang and close the door behind me. I’m sure there’s a light switch in here somewhere, but I don’t try to find it. I’m too numb.
Several minutes pass and I hear a few light taps on the door, but I don’t say anything. I need to absorb all these emotions swirling around in my head right now. I try to put a name to the shock I’m feeling, but there’s not a single word that will fit. I’m hurt and belittled because he yelled at me and maybe even a little frightened by the fury in his voice.
I’m sure his family heard the commotion and it mortifies me to think of facing them. The worst part is the shame I feel. How can I be sleeping with a man who would become so furious by a possible pregnancy?
You know what? Fuck him.
I hear the light raps again. “I sort of know you’re in there unless there’s a hidden passage to a dungeon I don’t know about.” He’s trying to be humorous, but nothing in the world could be funny to me right now.
He opens the door and comes inside to stand with me in the dark. I feel him reach for me, but I step away. I can’t bear the touch that once set me on fire because in this moment, it only makes me feel cheap.
“No.” And there it is again. The word that started all of this. Now I hate it and don’t want to hear it, either.
