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Without missing a beat, and not that I blame him, Jack says, “Care to explain?”
“Honestly, no,” I answer back, but knowing it’s totally unfair of me to leave him in the dark.
Jack laughs a little when I smile at him, all jealousy from earlier is long gone and what’s left is confusion.
I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly before starting. He’s at least owed some semblance of an explanation.
“That’s my ex. He’s not of that much importance, but whenever he gets wind that I’m dating someone he comes back around. He doesn’t want me, he has no interest in me, but…”
“But he doesn’t want anyone else in your life either,” Jack says, finishing my thought.
“Exactly.” I nod my head, smiling at Jack thankful that he gets it and doesn’t seem to be scared off by Nate and his ability to show up unannounced and unwelcome.
“What do you think about the whole thing?” Jack asks, pushing for my thoughts, because as much as he isn’t one to pry, I get why he’s feeling out the situation.
“I think I’d like him to disappear, and he will eventually,” I say, trying to give off a nonplused vibe about the whole thing.
“If you want, I’d be more than happy to throw around some of this Aussie muscle and make sure he doesn’t come back,” Jack jokes, flexing his arm as he slips his other arm around my waist pulling me close.
“I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be a fair fight,” I tease back knowing Jack would completely kick Nate’s ass.
Even though there’s a ton of stuff to get done here at the vineyard, Jack and I decide to take a drive into San Francisco and do some sightseeing while he’s here. I can’t remember the last time I just threw everything aside and spent the day away from here, but with Jack I want to.
“It’s a lot colder near the bay,” I warn Jack as we leave the vineyard with him dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.
“You think I’d miss an opportunity to wear shorts while on holiday?” he asks and I laugh at his lingo as I pull out onto the road.
“Suit yourself, but I refuse to be seen with you wearing an “I heart San Francisco” sweatshirt from an overpriced tourist stand. And I don’t think I’d classify this as a holiday, you work for me, remember?”
“It’s actually called a jumper not a sweatshirt,” Jack says, teasing me as he twirls a few strands of my hair around his finger. “And would you be more inclined to not take the piss if I just called it a vacation?” He says the word vacation in his cheesy American accent and it makes me smile even more, but I’m laughing so hard I can barely get my next sentence out.
“Take a piss…what? Who is taking a piss where?” I ask, totally confused now by his obviously Australian comment.
Jack just laughs though, shaking his head as he leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek and whispers, “You’re fucking adorable.”
Traffic is light given it is a Monday and we’ve missed all the commuters by at least a few hours as we make our way into the city. I find a public lot and park the car figuring we can walk to pretty much anywhere.
It only takes about twenty minutes before Jack admits he’s freezing, his ice-cold hands slipping under my shirt to the warm skin on my stomach.
“Someone may have mentioned this, but I guess I’ll give you a pass since you are from the country where people can literally fry an egg on the ground.”
We avoid the tourist shops and duck into a shopping mall so Jack can grab something that doesn’t have San Francisco plastered all over it.
“You’re lucky we found that mall because if we hadn’t I planned on calling you “Alcatraz” the rest of the trip,” I tease and Jack gives me a little push before pulling me back against him and kissing me.
We spend the entire day visiting every tourist spot in the San Francisco area and eating and drinking our way through lots of bars. We find ourselves laughing at the number of people taking a ridiculous amount of over posed selfies at all the prime locations: in front of the Golden Gate Bridge, outside the house from Full House, on Lombardo Street and a bunch of others.
It’s not like Jack and I don’t take pictures, we do, but we tried to live more in the moment and enjoy our time together. Just because it isn’t plastered on social media doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.
Our last stop is Alcatraz, something that if not booked in advance there isn’t a chance of seeing it. Since this trip to the city was on a whim, we don’t have tickets and there’s none left for the day.
One of the perks about working in the tourist industry is that you make friends with a lot of people; people who can sneak you onto the boat to Alcatraz without a ticket.
I flag down Julie, a girl who worked for me hosting tours back a couple of years ago before she relocated to San Francisco and took a job as a tour operator on one of the boats that goes to Alcatraz.
She smiles at me when I catch her eye and she opens the rope that’s keeping the waiting people from entering the boat before it’s time.
“Hey Julie!” I call, as we make our way over to her. We hug and I introduce Jack as we make small talk. “Any chance you can get us on the boat?” I ask, a hopeful smile on my face.
