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When he pulled away from our kiss, I saw the warning in his eyes. I was pushing his limits.
“Rose,” he pleaded as he kneaded my ass with his strong hands.
“Okay,” I said as I pulled away and puffed out my lip, which he took and sucked in teasing. Sharing the same smile, he gently put me on my feet, and I beamed at him.
“You hungry?”
“Starving, actually. I got super focused on finishing this and lost track of time.” He eyed my bags. “You brought me food, woman?”
“I did,” I said with affection, still moved by the beauty of my new office and our kiss.
“Let me go wash up and change t-shirts?”
“K.”
Cradling my face with both hands, he moved his thumb along my lower lip. I caught it and flicked my tongue against it before sucking gently. Jack’s inhale was audible as he narrowed his eyes. “You’re dangerous.”
“I’m harmless,” I murmured and pulled my mouth away.
“You feel so god damned good,” he said, making another round on my jaw with his perfect lips before he reluctantly let go of me and made his way out the door. After a moment or two of reflection, I got busy clearing the room of debris and setting up the bag full of food I’d brought from the store. French bread, a container full of chicken salad, mixed fruit, soft cheese, and crackers were all set out on the shiny new wood that made up my desk. Though rectangular in shape, the outer edges were rough and left uneven by the condition of the original wood. I wondered how long it took him to work on a desk so intricately carved. He’d said days, and I appreciated his talent. We were both good with our hands, a shared commonality. Excited for a few stolen hours alone with him and a chance to explore the mystery that was Jack, I went to the break room and filled two plastic cups with ice. I was just about to break the wax seal on the bottle of booze when Jack emerged out of the hallway with damp hair. Even with a newly built room of things to admire, Jack was by far the best design to look upon.
“You up for a drink?” I asked, pouring two healthy sized glasses of bourbon. “I feel like celebrating.”
“Sure,” he said as he took the glass from me and consumed a healthy sip. “What are we celebrating?”
I spent a few minutes telling Jack about my day, less the reason behind my breakthrough. I told him of my excitement about the clinic, of how Dr. McGuire had moved me into a better position of helping my future patients at the center, about how I felt like my dream had finally come true, and my new appreciation for what I did.
“I feel like I just woke up, you know? And I’m looking around now like wow. This is really happening,” I said around a mouthful of French bread. “And of course a part of me has been aware, but it’s like now… I can fully embrace it. Make sense?”
“Perfect sense,” he said, sitting in the chair next to me, his ankles crossed as he nibbled on my offering.
“God, I’ve been talking nonstop, sorry,” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t ever be sorry about talking to me about something important to you. I happen to love it that you’re so enthusiastic. You worked hard for this. You deserve to be happy about it.”
“Thank you,” I said, pushing my glass against his in a toast. “I’m relieved.”
“Why’s that?”
Cajun.
God, I loved it.
“Because I didn’t think I would feel this way again.”
Jack looked slightly confused. “Again?”
I caught myself before I gave too much away. “It’s just… it started to seem like an endless amount of work and I was blind to the reward.”
“Nothing worse than not loving what you do,” Jack agreed. “I’ve fumbled in that department.”
“You weren’t always a contractor?”
“No, I went to Stanford and got an MBA in business. I was a suit, can you believe it?”
I opened my mouth to speak and closed it in equal parts shock and admiration. He was highly educated, and though I wasn’t at all opposed to dating anyone without an education, it made Jack more intriguing.
“Guess not,” he said as he poured a little more blend into our glasses.
