Page 27 of It’s You

“You’re in pain?” He didn’t look at her. He leaned back to take a better look at the redness of her legs, and she saw him grimace.

“A little.”

“How can I help?”

“Do you have any antihistamines?”

He shook his head regretfully.

“Can I take a cold bath?” she asked.

“I’m on it.” He leaped up and beelined for his bathroom. She heard the water running. “I’ll, um…I’ll get your clothes out of the dryer and bring them up.”

“Hey, you didn’t use softener sheets in the dryer or anything, did you?” she called to him. “Whatever you’re using, it doesn’t agree with me.”

“Nope. Just heat.”

Darcy stood up and shuffled into the bathroom, finding him kneeling on the floor, hand in the bathwater.

She stood naked behind him, plunged her fingers into his hair, pulled his face back, and leaned down, her breasts grazing the back of his head as she gave him an inverted kiss.

Then she stepped over him, gasping at the cold water on her skin as she stepped into the bath.

She sat down, easing herself back against the tub, and sighed.

Jack didn’t move. His fingers still dangled in the water, and his head was bowed.

“Last night was the best night of my life, Darcy.”

Darcy closed her eyes, loving the feel of the cool water on her hot skin.

“Mine too.” She sighed, finding his fingers beside her and clasping them. Minutes ticked by in silence as the water turned warmer, heated by her hot skin, and still their hands stayed laced together.

“I can’t lose you now,” he finally whispered, and his voice was ragged with emotion, with desperation and despair. He let go of her hand.

Darcy opened her eyes to look at him, to reassure him of her feelings for him, her love for him, but he was gone.

She dressed carefully in her jeans and T-shirt, skipping her bra and panties for fear that they would further irritate the rash.

She could change into something light and breathable as soon as she got home.

Maybe Willow could prescribe a strong antihistamine too.

Sad though it made her feel, all signs pointed to her needing to head home.

She made her way downstairs and found Jack in the beautiful farm kitchen, watching the news in French.

“Wow,” she said. “Your French is that good?”

“It’s my first language,” he admitted, pouring her a cup of coffee. “I don’t know how you take it.”

“Light and sweet.”

“Just like you.” He grinned, kissing her gently as he handed her a coffee cup. He turned and opened the refrigerator, taking out a carton of milk, and found a sugar packet in an overhead cabinet. He set both on the counter in front of her.

She stared at his chest, at the well-defined pectoral and abdominal muscles, and the muscles on his lower trunk that started a perfect V on each side of his hips, the apex of which ended at his…

“Whew.” She sighed, looking up at his face.

He beamed at her, then chuckled lightly, biting his lower lip. His face turned serious as he stared at her. “I want you again, Darce.”

She looked down at her red arms and thought of the red, irritated skin of her chest and back. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I have to go.”

His face clouded over, and he shook his head. “No, I thought, I mean, I hoped that you’d stay.”

“Jack, I haven’t really been home since Friday afternoon. Willow will think you abducted me.”

He took his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to her. “So call her and let her know you’re fine. Then stay for the rest of today.”

She took a sip of her coffee, biting back a smile, and shook her head. “I have to go home.”

“Fine. I’m not going to beg you,” he muttered, shoving his phone back into his jeans. “I’ll get dressed and drive you home.”

He stalked out of the kitchen without a word, without looking at her, and she realized he was upset.

She was sorry for that. Honestly, she didn’t really want to leave him either, but felt like she should.

She needed to shower and change, get control of this rash, and check her messages.

Her book had been ignored for days, and who knows how many emails had piled up.

If she was needed for teaching tomorrow or Tuesday, she’d need to get her notes in order.

As much as she wanted to stay and pretend they were the only two people in the world, life intruded. She had to go.

She finished her coffee and headed to the front foyer to find her socks and shoes. She had finished pulling on her socks as Jack found her.

“Wow. All ready to go. That anxious to leave, huh?”

Darcy stood up slowly, recognizing the tone in his voice. Worry. He was worried. What was he worried about? I can’t lose you now. She’d never gotten the chance to reassure him.

She put her hands on his face and tilted it to the side, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

His mouth was hot and soft, but he didn’t respond to her.

He was pouting. He was telling her how much it bothered him that she wanted to go home.

She laced her hands around his neck, pulling him down to her, rubbing her body against his, gently wiggling her tongue between his lips.

She heard his keys fall to the floor as his arms swooped around her, lifting her off the ground, into his arms, flush up against his body.

He sighed into her mouth, his tongue stroking hers with the same rhythm he’d used to make love to her, and she felt her hunger for him pooling, throbbing, and insistent below her waist.

Sounds of passion escaped her throat as he grappled for the button of her jeans, urgently unzipped them, and then pushed them down.

She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants as fast as she could, freeing his hard, ready sex.

Without breaking contact with her lips, he put his hands under her arms and lifted her against the back of the front door, holding her hips with his hands and sinking without warning into her wet, waiting body, thrusting upward as she cried out his name.

She felt vulnerable and confined, at his mercy, which she found incredibly hot.

She wound her hands in his hair, throwing her head back against the door as he plunged deeper and deeper into the recesses of her body, his pelvic bone rubbing the nub of sensitive flesh over her entry.

The sharp sweetness of their mating became more and more tightly coiled until?—

“Jack…Jack…Jaaaaaaaaaack!” Her head fell forward on his shoulder, and her body convulsed around him as he thrust into her one final time, emitting a loud, roaring growl from his throat and howling her name as they climaxed together.

He was quiet, but less petulant, on the drive home.

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

Jack glanced at her. “Wish I could say I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not sorry either.”

They rode in silence until Jack reached the edge of the woods and turned out onto the access road that led into town.

“Where are you headed?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“On business? Where are you going?”

“Oh. Um…Quebec,” he answered without looking at her, stopping at Carlisle’s only stoplight.

Darcy scooted down in her seat in case anyone from church saw her driving around town with Jack Beauloup while skipping services, but when she looked over at the Second Congregational Church parking lot, it was empty.

She checked her watch. Twelve o’clock p.m. They’d lost at least two hours this morning.

“I don’t like this losing-time thing,” she muttered.

He glanced over at her before the light changed to green. “We’ll work on it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

“I’ll ask Willow too,” Darcy suggested. “She knows just about everything about the Métis culture.”

He glanced at her briefly, and she saw his jaw flex, but he didn’t respond.

All too soon, he pulled into her driveway. He put the Jeep in park and let the engine idle as he looked at her.

Je t’aime, Darcy. Attends-moi.

I’ll be here when you get back.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

Then don’t. Say, “See you on Thursday.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, and Darcy saw the sadness on his face.

It’s just three days.

He nodded and gave her a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Then he leaned over and touched his lips to hers.

I belong to you.

He kissed her again, then she turned and opened her door, feeling him watch her as she walked away.

She heard his car pull away as she closed the front door and leaned back against it.

Nonsensical tears gathered in her eyes as she processed with finality that she wouldn’t see him for three and a half days.

She’d been brave for him, but it was just as hard for her.

She wished life could stop, and they could hole up in his house together for a month, or in Jack-and-Darcy time, she thought ruefully, three weeks.

She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up to see Willow coming down the stairs in her silky, Chinese embroidered robe.

“Darce!” Willow stopped in her tracks, looking nervously back up the stairs, before hurrying down to Darcy. “Where’ve you been?”

“Jack’s.” She sighed.

“Does Jack’s have a tanning bed, Darcy ?” Willow practically yelled her name, pulling her by the elbow into the kitchen and flicking on the overhead light.

“What are you doing? Why are you pulling me into the kitchen? Why are you yelling?”

Willow took hold of Darcy’s chin, twisting it back and forth.

“This is some burn!”

“I think it’s a rash. His sheets or something. Hoping you can give me an antihistamine.”

“His sheets? Oh, boy. We need to talk.”

Willow took one of Darcy’s arms, studying it. Darcy heard a bump overhead.

“Is someone here?”

“Damndest rash I’ve ever seen, Darce. It’s too uniform, unless it all bled together. It looks like sunburn to me. I mean, we won’t know unless it blisters. A rash won’t blister, but I’d put my money on a burn.”

Darcy heard light footsteps on the stairs.

“Who. Is. Here?”

“I am.” Darcy turned to see her brother in the kitchen doorway, holding his toolbox in one hand.

“Hey, Am.”