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I smiled. That sounded like Aaron.
“What about you?” Jack asked, finally turning to glance my way.
Damn it. Hadn’t seen that coming. I shouldn’t have opened the work conversation. I smiled sweetly. “It’s great. Thanks for asking. My office has an ocean view. Well, to be more accurate, nearly the entire office has an ocean view.”
Jack looked back at the road.
“I did my orientation and will officially start tomorrow.”
“Ah.”
“Jack…”
His shoulders rolled forward. “Right.”
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but Noah is a good guy. He’s been nothing but professional and polite. He treats his staff like gold and they all adore him.”
“Wonderful,” Jack replied dryly.
I rolled my eyes and blew out an exhausted sigh. My fingers went to my ear and I found a strand of hair to twist and play with. It was a nervous habit and the simmering argument between us, less than five minutes into our night together was enough to make me jumpy. At this point, it was like any wrong step could send us off the cliff. I wanted to tread carefully.
Jack took an exit off the highway and I knew where he was taking me before I even saw the sign. The Prickly Pear was a swanky little martini bar on the edge of Holiday Cove. Jack and I used to go there when we were in the mood to dust off the sand and play dress up. It also was the place one of us suggested when we were feeling frisky. Something about the fancy clothes, dark, mood lighting, and out-of-this-world cocktails were all it would take for us to go home and be tearing each other’s clothes off before we even reached the stairs.
Why is he taking us here tonight? I wondered as he found a parking spot on the street.
When he put the car in park and killed the engine, he glanced at me, but his reflective shades didn’t allow me even a hint of what might be rolling around in his mind.
“I’m not sure I’m really dress code appropriate,” I said, looking down at myself. I’d selected a cornish-blue and white sundress that was loose and flowy. My blonde hair was down around my shoulder, likely tangled from a day of driving with the windows down. I hadn’t even put on much makeup that morning at Rachel’s. A slathering of tinted moisturizer, lip gloss, and a dab of mascara was all I had on.
Jack—on the other hand—would be more than fine. He was wearing jeans, but they were dark wash and impeccable, just off the hanger condition. A crisp dress shirt completed the look. I’d been so distracted by the way he looked in the jeans that I’d nearly missed the fact that he was wearing a button-up shirt. Where had he been planning to go before he ran into me—or, more accurately, before I ran into him. His hair was a little ruffled, but that only worked to make him look even more ruggedly handsome.
Jack looked at my dress, his eye raking over every inch of me in a way that made my skin tingle and warm. He didn’t miss a detail. The lines of my thighs as the dress lay flat against them, my hips, stomach, and then my breasts. I nibbled on my lower lip, hoping my nipples wouldn’t go hard. But with the fuck-me look in his eyes, it was hard to keep my thoughts from wandering. When he finally dragged them back up to my eyes—pausing to linger on my lips—he smiled. “I think you look beautiful.”
My breath caught in the back of my throat and my words came out in a breathy whisper, “Thank you, Jack.”
He reached over the center console and grabbed my hand. “I’ve missed you, Holly.”
“I missed you too.”
The words echoed through my head and my aching heart. It wasn’t the same to sleep without him beside me. Or to wake up in the middle of the night and not hear him breathing—or feel his hard body next to me. The simple, everyday things we took for granted were so easy to miss once they were gone.
I’d felt that way before when my ex-husband and I decided to divorce. I’d moved out of the house we shared and moved into my own place, and it had taken forever to get used to living alone. Back then, there was so much anger and resentment after he betrayed me, and I’d let those feelings fuel me.
Whenever I missed him, all I had to do was remind myself what a piece of shit he was and all the things he’d done to hurt me. It had been a crutch. A coping mechanism. And eventually, I had to find a better, more permanent—less destructive—way of dealing with the loss of a failed marriage. But with Jack…things were different. I cared for him in a different way and he hadn’t betrayed me. When I scraped around for the reasons why we weren’t together, I came back with a few stupid reasons, but there wasn’t anything concrete I could cling to in order to get me through the heartbreak if it came down to it.
