“See, but I can’t do that yet, my beautiful wife. You aren’t ready for it. Not yet.”
“Jack!” I cried. “Stop playing with me.” If he did this any longer, I swore I would use his hand between my legs to finish the job myself.
In one sudden motion, Jack flipped us over so I was beneath him. My head rested on the pillow where he had just lain, andI caught another whiff of his scent. My shorts were completely shoved aside, my hair sprawled across the linen. My breathing was uneven. I was a mess.
But when he added two other fingers to edge me even further, I thought I was going to combust. His other hand traced my face's curves, then skimmed beneath my left cheekbone. His dark eyes bore into mine with a hunger I inherently requited. “I can’t do those things yet, sweetheart. Do you know why?”
I shook my head, completely submitting to him.
“Because I love you, Maggie Hennicke. And you don’t love me yet. Or at least, not with the capacity that I love you.”
My heart dropped at his words, and I completely froze.
Jack loved me.
He fuckingloved me.For real.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, except love him back.
But I couldn’t. At least, not yet.
He was right. I wasn’t ready to lay my heart in his hands, even after putting my entire future there. A baby was one thing. Hell, a baby waseverything. But if something went wrong, I could save my baby. I could protect it. But my heart? That was something I vowed never to let out of its cage. My dad, my baby, and my horses would receive that, but Jack Hennicke was the last person I could give it to. He meant something to me. And the idea of it being ripped away by a cannon event years in the future just wouldn’t leave my head. It felt inevitable that I was going to end up exactly like my mother.
Telling Jack that I loved him was like deep diving into the Grand Canyon—there was no way I would make it out alive. I’d heard stories in high school and from polo women that the infamous playboy would make you fall and leave you, and I needed to live by that. Ihadto.
It was Jack and I against the world, but really, it was my heart and I against Jack. Fighting for every last bit of sanity while he disproved every preconceived thought I’d ever had about him. He wanted this family. He wanted this baby. He wanted me. He fuckinglovedme.
Right?
In the time I collected my thoughts, Jack moved from on top of me and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. A pained expression he couldn’t fully cover fought a flat frown. Another pang of guilt hit me as I looked at him. This invincible man, who tried more than anything to convince everyone of how strong and guarded he was, had laid himself bare in front of me in so many ways, and I kept silent after he confessed his love to me.
“My dad is coming on Wednesday.”
Jack’s face dropped, and his eyes widened. I gulped.
This was why I couldn’t bring myself to admit my feelings. My dad's visit was the prime example of my distrust in healthy relationships. I couldn’t give my heart to Jack. Maybe in another lifetime, when I wasn’t so afraid of being broken.
“Maggie…what?” He tried to catch his breath enough to speak.
“He just called me. I’m so sorry, Jack. I tried to push it to later—I really did—but this is his only free week. I’ve kept this secret from him formonths, and now we have to face him and tell him the truth. And honestly, it’s been bizarre running away with you and pretending that everything is great, because we have this new, secret life. But I’m hurting my dad. He doesn’t know we’re married. He doesn’t know he has a grandchild on the way. He has no idea the real reason we moved here. I’m not ready to wake up. I can’t. We’re not going to survive this. He’s going to kill–”
Jack crawled back over to me and crushed me to his body in a massive hug I didn’t know I needed, rubbing my back, innocently this time.
“We’re going to get through this, baby.”God. He was going to leave me dripping and desperate for him, and still call mebaby. We were horribly contradictory.
“How? My dad doesn’t exactly love you, and when he finds out this baby I’m carrying is yours, he’s going to freak out.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the feeling’s mutual,” he responded dryly.
“What?” My chest tightened.
“Yeah.” He pulled back a safe distance from me and looked into my eyes. A sliver of pain still resided in his. “He ruined your life, Mags. If he hadn’t cheated, your mom wouldn’t have left.”
Jack may as well have punched me in the heart. What was he saying? Yes, my father cheated on my mother. Yes, it was a horrible thing to do. Yes, it was the reason she left. But an unfaithful husband shouldn’t be enough to make you cut off all contact with yourdaughterand leave your alcoholic husband to raise her. It said a lot more about her than it did about him.
My father was at fault, but my mother's leaving was her choice, and her choice alone. It was a decision I didn’t know if I forgave her for. My father picked up the pieces and put himself together enough to raise a nine-year-old on his own. He was struggling with his own shit and still managed to raise me to love him endlessly. Jack could have his opinions on my father, but he wouldnotinsinuate that he ruined my life.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. “Jack, I appreciate how much you care for me, but this is my father we’re talking about,” I seethed. “Youcannotsay that.”
