Page 82 of Don't Lie to Me
“Not yet.”
The line went dead and I froze, just staring at the phone in my hand while I saw his name blinking on the screen.
I stumbled over my feet and blushed at his innuendo.
I wanted to be mad. I wanted to scream at him for being such an ignorant ass and hurting me so badly.
Except mostly, I just wanted him. Flaws and all, I just wanted his hands on me – at least one more time.
My cheeks were flushed and my body was warm when I opened the door and received one more surprise for the night.
Jack looked disheveled as he leaned against the doorframe to my apartment. His silver tie was roughly pulled away from his darker grey dress shirt that had the top button undone. The shirt was wrinkled and his suit jacket looked like it had spent the last four hours crumpled into a ball and shoved into a plastic garbage bag. His hair was mussed, and for the first time it wasn’t in that sexily perfect way I loved so much. But what I noticed most was the dullness in his eyes and the tiredness that surrounded them. His piercing dark brown eyes just look blank.
It wasn’t in the emotionless, professional blank way where he could just stare right through you and you knew he didn’t give a shit one way or another what he thought of you.
This time, he just looked….sad. And maybe a touch scared.
He stood up a little bit straighter as I opened the door and with one hand that was behind his back, held out one cala lilly.
“Someone told me I sucked at this whole dating thing. I thought this might help.”
God I’d never seen Jack look like this. His voice wavered a little bit as he pushed off the door frame and stood, timidly, in front of me.
I wanted him. I loved him. I just needed answers first.
Slowly, I pulled the calla lilly from his fingers and inhaled the sweet fragrance.
“Come on in.” I turned from him and began looking for a vase. Not finding one, I emptied the red wine from the bottle into a couple of glasses, filled the bottle with water and stuck the lilly in there.
“Nice,” Jack said with just a touch of humor.
I handed him a glass of wine and set my new faux vase in the middle of my table. “I’m a classy girl, what can I say?” I winked and moved to my couch, waving him over as I passed him. “What’d you want to talk about?”
He looked uncomfortable, almost nervous as he stood next to my small and chipped wooden kitchen table. His hands were in his pockets and he rocked back and forth on his heels, not making eye contact with me. In fact, he was looking at every single thing in my small and hand-me-downed apartment except me.
“Logan sleeping?” He finally asked and brought the wine glass to his lips. I watched him swallow slowly, becoming more antsy with what he really wanted to say, and trying to resist the urge to wrap my hand around his tie and wrinkle it up.
I licked my lips and just nodded. I didn’t miss the hazy look he had in his eyes as he watched. I wasn’t trying to turn him on right now. It was just a nervous tick, but it made me smile and feel all sorts of warm inside knowing he was that affected by me.
Who was I kidding? I loved it.
“Did you see the news conference that went on earlier?”
I nodded again, a small smirk forming on my lips. “I did. My sympathies go out to the Senator and his family during this time of transition.”
Jack shook his head but I didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes. “Smart ass,” he muttered and slowly began walking towards the living room. My apartment was small, allowing him to reach a chair that suddenly seemed much too small once he sunk his large frame into it. It looked like a children’s chair and he was the giant. “Do you want to know why he stepped down?” He looked at me with a questioning gaze.
I was thinking of Jack in that tiny chair and thinking of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. ‘This chair is too big, this chair is too small, this chair is just right….’ I frowned into my wine glass and slowly set it on the coffee table. I must be drunker than I thought if the only thing on my mind right now, with Jack back in my apartment and not yelling at me was nursery rhymes.
I sighed heavily and looked to Jack, remembering he had asked me a question.
“What?”
“How drunk are you?” He frowned.
I wrinkled my nose. The room wasn’t spinning yet, but my tongue felt slightly larger and thicker than normal. “Just a little bit,” I finally deduced, hoping my words weren’t slurring. “You were talking about the Senator.”
I tightened my robe across my breasts and held my hands there a little bit longer than necessary feeling my nipples harden. Jack’s eyes dropped to my hands and a small smirk lifted on one side of his mouth, his dimple appearing.
