Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
He gives a faint laugh, reaching for the cupboard that houses my coffee. ‘I knew because that is exactly the cupboard I would have put them in. And the coffee.’ He reaches for the drawer where I keep my cutlery. ‘And the spoons are in here, right?’
‘Right. And, amazingly, the milk is in the fridge.’
He shoves the drawer shut with a jerk of his arse, tapping the spoon on his palm as he regards me. He takes one step forward. I take one step back. He smirks. I smirk. Then he lunges forward threateningly, and I squeal as he seizes me, wrapping me in one solid arm and tickling me with his spare hand. ‘Jack!’ I gasp, bucking against him. It’s futile; his weight and strength versus mine is always going to win. ‘Jack, stop!’
‘Are you mocking me for having good cupboard awareness?’
‘No, I love your cupboard awareness!’ I laugh over my words, relishing his playfulness, his nakedness against mine, and the fact that he would have put the coffee cups in that cupboard too.
I’m finally released from his torturing clutches and slapped on the arse. ‘Finish the coffee, gorgeous. I need the toilet.’ He strides out. ‘Bet I know where you keep your spare loo rolls.’
I chuckle and finish off the coffees, before making tracks to find him. ‘Jack?’
‘In here,’ he calls. I follow the sound of his voice until I’m on the threshold of my studio. I find Jack’s naked body standing over my workbench, and I wander over to join him, finding him looking over the drawings for Colin’s extension. Glancing up at me, he smiles. ‘Architect Annie.’
I laugh softly, remembering him calling me that on the night I met him. ‘Jack the joker.’
Jack laughs too, his eyes sparkling. ‘You loved my joke.’
I can’t deny it, so I don’t. ‘What are you looking at?’
‘I’m just wondering why you chose bare brick for the internal wall of the extension.’
‘Colin’s art is very modern. Almost industrial. The building is early nineteen hundreds, and I thought . . .’
‘The contrast of old and new would be striking,’ he finishes for me, as if reading my mind.
‘Exactly that.’ My heart falls a little as Jack glances up at me, smiling mildly.
‘Great minds.’
‘Great minds,’ I counter softly, handing him his coffee. It’s not only our bodies that work in complete harmony, but our thoughts too. It scares me to think how perfect this man is for me. How stimulating, beyond our sexual chemistry.
Jack takes his coffee, seeming to fall into a daydream. I wonder if he’s having the same thoughts as me. But I don’t ask.
I do, however, ask him something. ‘Why?’ I pull him from his daydreaming, and I don’t have to extend my question.
‘Honestly?’ he asks, prompting me to nod. Jack frowns and spends the next few seconds sipping his drink. Something tells me he’s buying time, trying to figure out whether he should be honest. ‘I needed to let off some steam. To just get totally fucked,’ he tells me. I nearly spit my coffee out, forcing him to go on quickly. ‘I don’t mean getting fucked like that. I mean getting fucked in the drunken sense. Just so I could forget about . . .’ He fades off and glances away from me, sighing as his eyes jump across my workbench.
I step back, studying his sudden despondent expression. ‘Are you happy?’
‘When I’m with you, I’m deliriously happy. I already told you that.’
‘You know I don’t mean that.’
He smiles, but it’s a sad smile. ‘No, I’m not. But does it make the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you acceptable?’
His question gives me pause, despite the answer being very easy. Easy but painful. ‘No,’ I admit, looking away from him. Nothing would make this acceptable.
Within a second, Jack has removed my mug from my hands and has me wrapped in his arms, hugging me tightly. It feels so good, so comforting, like I’m not shouldering all of the guilt alone. I relax into him with a sigh, thinking how I could happily remain here forever.
‘My phone,’ Jack mumbles quietly, reluctantly releasing me. I hear the sound of his mobile ringing and watch as his naked back disappears through the doorway. I follow him back to the bedroom to find my dressing gown. Jack dips and scoops up his trousers, rummaging through the pocket and pulling out his mobile. I know who it is before he looks down at the screen and his body deflates. The life drains out of me too.
‘Stephanie,’ he says when he connects the call. He holds his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he drags his boxers and trousers on and walks out to the corridor to get his shirt, his jaw definitely tight. It’s then I hear her shouting down the line at him. I stand back, like I’m trying to escape the private conversation. Jack’s nostrils flare, and his eyes clench shut briefly. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be there as quickly as I can,’ he replies calmly and quietly. ‘Apologise to your parents for the delay.’