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“This is wonderful,” I said, taking a look around the cabin. It was small and bachelor neat, with everything built of knotty pine and stained a warm golden color. The kitchen and living area were all one room with a small table just big enough for two in the corner. There was a fireplace against the far wall with a worn red sofa in front of it. I could just imagine curling up with Jack at night and watching the crackling flames as we ate popcorn and snuggled.
“It’s not very big,” Jack said, interrupting my cozy fantasy. “In fact, I’m afraid there’s only one bedroom. So of course I’ll take the couch.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that—I’ll take it,” I said quickly, not wanting to be a bother. Besides, I had the idea that I would wind up in bed with Jack most nights anyway, so what did it matter?
“Well…we’ll see,” was all he said. “You know, your father and I lived here together for about a year as roommates before he met and claimed your mother and the two of them moved back East.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” I looked around, trying to imagine my parents in the charming little cabin. But all I could see was Jack, big and muscular and dark. The cabin seemed to echo him in every way—it was an undeniably masculine space.
“Really.” He nodded. “We were Blood-Brothers, your father and I. It’s one reason we were always so close. See this mark right here?” He pointed to one of the swirling blue tattoos on his muscular arm—only this one looked more like a brand, I thought, frowning. A burn that someone had stained blue, to look like another piece of skin art.
“What is it?” I asked, thinking of the swirling blue mark which had appeared on my inner thigh…and then disappeared just as quickly.
“Blood-brand,” Jack said succinctly. “We took it when we were just boys—swore to keep each other safe. Keep our families safe too…” He sighed. “Only your father was the only one who had a family. Guess I’ve always just been a lone wolf.”
“You’re not alone anymore,” I reminded him. Going to him, I insinuated myself under his arm and wrapped my arms around his trim waist. “You’ve got me and I’ve got you, remember?” I told him. Standing on my tiptoes, I dared to kiss him lightly on the lips—just a little sign of affection, that was all, I told myself. “And since my father was your ‘Blood-Brother’ I guess that really makes me your little girl—even if we aren’t really blood-related,” I said. “Right, Daddy Jack?”
“Yes, it does,” he said, but I thought he looked troubled when he said it for some reason.
But whatever was bothering him, he seemed to shake it off.
“What would you like for dinner tonight, Princess?” he asked, looking down at me. “Spaghetti and meatballs? Mac ‘n cheese?”
It wasn’t lost on me that he was offering me comfort food—little girl food—but I wasn’t about to turn it down. I needed to feel comforted—to feel like his little girl sometimes. And when those times came, Jack was sweet and never made me feel ashamed of not acting my age.
“Mac ‘n cheese,” I said decisively. “Though we should probably have a salad or some kind of green vegetable to go with it,” I added, trying to be more of a responsible adult.
“Think I got a package of frozen peas in the freezer,” Jack rumbled. “Dig around in there and see what you can find, Princess. Later we’ll head back into town and do a grocery run.”
We ate our mac ‘n cheese and peas at the little two person table and then I washed the dishes while Jack made up a roaring fire in the fireplace. He said it got cold at night in the forest, even in the summer sometimes, so he liked to keep plenty of firewood on hand.
Once the dishes were put away, we snuggled on the couch just as I had hoped we would. Jack had taken off his shirt again—he was “running hot” that night and besides, he said, he liked to feel the heat from the fire on his skin.
I thought about asking if I could take off my shirt as well. It was a thin t-shirt—so thin you could see my white lace bra through it. But I didn’t quite dare to do such a thing. However, I could at least get more comfortable, I told myself.
Reaching behind me, under my t-shirt, I unfastened my bra and then dragged it down my arms and out the arm hole of my t-shirt.
“What are you doing, Princess?” Jack frowned at me as I tossed the discarded lace undergarment carelessly over the arm of the couch.
“Just getting comfortable,” I said. “Oh, it feels so good to get that damn thing off! It was really cutting into my shoulders.”
