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“What are you doing?”
He frowned and looked up at me. “I’m fixing the door.”
“I can see that, but why?”
That frown turned into something darker. Something beyond anger, fear and terror. It was haunted.
“Because I don’t like squeaky doors.”
“I’m sorry,” I tried again.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, giving the door a final tug. No more squeak. He went into the bathroom and washed his hands, leaving the items where they were, as if not caring about a thing in the world, as long as the door didn’t squeak anymore.
He came out and cupped my face. “Let’s go to bed.”
I nodded and followed him. But everything in my body was screaming that this was bizarre. More than bizarre. I’d never seen Jack look so lost. So terrified. For a brief moment, when he first awoke, that was the look I saw. I recognized that look. Had had the same one: fear.
Fear of what’s coming through the door.
“Jack?” I whispered, as he sat on the bed and I stood before him. “Why does the sound of squeaking doors bother you so much?”
His stare stayed on my stomach, he unbuttoned his shirt I was wearing, and threw it to the floor.
“They just do.” He kissed my hip, my side, my stomach, then tugged me into bed with him.
“You can talk to me,” I said, but he just rolled us over, so my back was to him and his arms were wrapped around me, spooning me.
“Not about that.” He buried his face in my neck.
“I want to know you.” It was clear there was an issue. Something maybe I could help, at the very least, identify with what he was going through. Whatever fear that gripped him when he thought someone was coming through the door, I couldn’t shake. “Maybe I can help. Or just listen.”
“Don’t ask me again,” he said very calm, but very stern.
I nodded, and he hugged me closer. Funny thing, he was right there, yet felt so far away.
Chapter Fifteen
“Have you enjoyed yourself?” Jack asked from across the little table.
We were eating a late lunch on Sunday afternoon in the sunshine of downtown Denver. The little café had a dining section outside, and people passed us, strolling and window shopping, as Jack and I sat there, like nothing was missing between us.
All I could think about was what happened only twelve hours earlier in the early hours of the morning.
“It’s been a wonderful weekend.”
I took a sip of my water. My clothes ha
d been cleaned and waiting for me this morning. I didn’t know when Jack had washed them, or perhaps he had a housekeeper that possessed ninja qualities. That was the least of my worries at the moment. Sure, sitting across from him looking perfect in his jeans and button-up, while I was in glorified loungewear was difficult on the self-esteem. Though he kept himself casual, the blue shirt rolled at the sleeves, I still felt sloppy in comparison.
“Something on your mind?”
I nodded.
He waited.
He told me once to say what was on my mind. Lord knew he had no problem speaking his thoughts. My only hesitation was fear of pushing too far and having him shut me out. Only way to know…
“I’m confused about last night,” I started.
