Part 11 (2/2)

Devon closed the door behind me.

I paused to gather myself, having no idea what to say to Jack, and heard the sounds of grunts and thwacks I hadn't noticed when I'd first arrived. Tilting my head to the sky, I filled my lungs deeply. Nana, if you're out there, I hope you knew what you were doing when you brought me Jack Eversea.

It was dark under the house. The s.p.a.ce, which obviously reflected the entire footprint of the home, was huge. I paused as I entered, then pa.s.sed the Jeep, letting my eyes adjust to the cool dimness. A faint mildewy smell that characterized life in the humid coastal South, wafted through the s.p.a.ce. I trained my gaze on the direction of the sounds and could make out a figure, Jack, in the far corner through the concrete support columns sparring against a large black punching bag that hung from above.

The shadows were perforated with beams of sunlight slanting through the lattice-work covering all sides of the house. They landed like mini spotlights all over his muscled form, the rays bouncing off his wet skin. He wore only black gym shorts that clung with dampness.

He grunted and panted as his fists flew, his dark hair wet and brow furrowed. Sweat beaded and dripped to the concrete floor.

I continued moving forward, but stopped when I was about ten feet away from him, trying to force my dry mouth to take a swallow. He was so beautiful it was heartbreaking.

And he seemed so lost.

My eyes skated down his perfect form.

His bare feet glided back and forth on the dusty cement as he s.h.i.+fted his weight easily into every punch his upper body threw. He had a new tattoo on his foot. It made me uneasy to see it, to know there was so much of his life I didn't yet know or understand. But I wanted to. So badly.

His back was still to me when he stopped his current combinations and grabbed and hugged the bag, dropping his forehead against it. After a few moments I expected him to be done, to catch his breath and stand up, but he suddenly released one arm from around the bag and proceeded to pound out right hooks over and over again, letting out a loud grunt with each one. Sounds of frustration or satisfaction at landing the perfect hit, I couldn't tell.

He finally stopped, his torso heaving as he clung to the bag. His breathing was loud and labored.

”What do you want, Keri-Ann?” he croaked.

I started.

He didn't raise his head from where it rested against the bag, just stayed frozen, panting with exertion.

A weird sizzle arced through my churning belly. G.o.d, I was so attracted to him. To every part of him. The strong arrogant side of him the world saw. And yes, to this visual and visceral display of maleness. But especially to the vulnerable part he'd had the courage to show me.

I reached behind me and drew the folded pages out of the back pocket of my cargoes, trying to keep my hand steady. ”Are these real?” I asked, in a whisper.

His shoulders slumped. ”Seriously?”

”It's just a question.”

”Yes, they're real.” He sighed.

”No, I believe you ... I'm sorry. I don't know why I asked like that.” My voice was breathy with nerves. ”Will you ... will you look at me,” I managed.

He didn't move for a moment. Then he tilted his face to the side and looked at me over his arm. His eyes were dark as they met mine. He blinked slowly then dropped his gaze to the pages I was holding. ”I wanted to figure out a way to get those back before you read them ...”

”I'm glad you didn't. Is this everything?”

He closed his eyes. ”It's everything that matters. There's some stuff about my father you probably didn't need to see and ... well, I also didn't explain what happened with Audrey.” He sliced his eyes back up to mine, as he finally pulled back from where he was clutching the bag. ”I slept with her the day I found out she cheated on me.”

”What?” I said even though I'd heard him clearly. I needed time to process it.

He waited, watching me.

How does someone react to being cheated on by sleeping with the enemy? An image of him being with her, naked, skin to skin, flashed through my mind, making me wince. Obviously, I knew he'd had s.e.x with her to have thought the baby was his. But not when. And I knew he'd been with other people before me, it wasn't about that. But in this image it wasn't a faceless girl. I knew Audrey. I knew her beauty. And now that I'd read Jack's pages, I knew her ugliness at threatening me to get to Jack. But to sleep with her, knowing she'd just been with someone else? I saw them together in my mind, imagined he must have been ... angry while he did it. My stomach rolled.

I felt disgusted. And dirty ... like he'd transferred her on to me. ”Unprotected?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

He nodded.

I curled my arms around my middle.

Unwrapping the wrist-strap on the fingerless boxing gloves he had on, he straightened to his over six-foot frame and pulled them off. This Jack, this wary Jack, that seemed as if he was bristling with armor, was new to me.

”What do you want, Keri Ann?” He asked me again and threw the gloves to the side. ”I know you're disgusted with me. I knew you would be. You should be. I am.”

I dropped my eyes to his sculpted chest as it heaved.

A few hundred yards from where we stood, the sound of waves cras.h.i.+ng incessantly against the sh.o.r.e vied for attention against the sound of his still irregular breathing. Waves that were constantly changing and renewing the sand, bringing beautiful things and also ugly remains, and then was.h.i.+ng them away again without regret. I sighed and looked away. There was dust floating in the beams of sunlight, a few boxes were piled up haphazardly in a corner next to me. I laid the journal pages down on one.

”You hurt me,” I whispered and looked back at him.

He pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds then nodded once. ”Yes.”

”And I hurt you, too.”

He didn't respond.

”I didn't ...” my throat was dry again, felt clogged. ”I didn't know I was able to do that.” I hadn't really believed him until I saw it written in his almost illegible handwriting. ”I'm scared, Jack.” I inhaled deeply and steadied my voice. ”Like I told you last night. I'm not ready to be out there with you, to have that define me. To have you define me.”

He nodded and swallowed, wincing as if in pain. ”I know.”

”I've barely discovered myself,” I whispered. ”Who I am. What I'm capable of. What I want.”

Tension radiated off him in physical waves, steeling himself against my words. He was so successful, so strong, so larger than life when the world turned its camera lens on him. But with me he needed to protect himself?

G.o.d, how did I have the power to make someone like Jack Eversea so vulnerable?

I held the power to crush him right at this moment. The knowledge was humbling and terrifying. Didn't he know I'd rather drown myself in the ocean than use that power?

Walking forward, my pulse beating a wild rhythm with every step, I stopped right in front of him. I breathed him in, all his sweat and salt and exertion mingled together.

His jaw was tight and his vivid eyes flickered once as he held my gaze.

Moments stretched out, and our breathing became joined in rhythm. His finally slowing, mine catching up.

I had nothing left to ask him that would make me feel better about trusting this. Trusting him. This was the leap right here. This was the moment where I wondered if history was always doomed to repeat itself, and why I would make the same mistake again. I wished I could see the future in the depths of his green eyes, in the dilated pools of his pupils. I couldn't, so I dropped my attention to his full mouth, the curve of his lips, softly set against his hard, rough jaw.

”If you touch me right now,” Jack rasped, cutting through the silence, ”I'm taking it as a yes to us.” He leaned his sweat-slicked body closer, and my heart fell right though me. ”And I'm never,” he drew the word out, ”letting you go.”

I absorbed his roughly uttered words, their echo weaving its way around us, and my body began a distant throb. ”Is that a promise or a threat?” I managed softly and raised my hand up between us. Heat flowed off his chest onto my palm as it hovered right over his heart.

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