Page 28

TWENTY-SEVEN

MARA

NOVEMBER

“Kids?” Jack called.

A whisper-screamed “Come on!” came from the catwalk upstairs. Jack was frozen in my arms, his lips red and swollen from our intense kissing.

A door creaked upstairs, then a doorknob jiggled as it shut.

“I think we were being spied on,” I said.

“Should we go up there?” Jack asked.

We both stilled, listening for more commotion. There was a creak where Aspen and Harper got back in bed, then more giggles. After a few more seconds, there was silence.

I stepped back from Jack, licking my lip and scraping my teeth over it. I blew out a breath to cool off. “I’m pretty tired anyway. And itchy. I should go to bed.”

“With me.” Jack’s voice brooked no argument. I hesitated and he sighed, resting a hand back on my waist. His eyes softened. “I need to know you’re still breathing.”

His face when the ambulance took me away popped back into my mind, guilt washing over me and splashing cold water on the heat of our kisses. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“Never be sorry, Mara. But let’s get your health on track, okay? Marry me?”

I sniffed and rubbed my finger under my nose. “Yeah. Okay.”

Jack kissed my forehead. “What’s your middle name?”

“Eileen.”

Jack got a soft smile and sank to one knee, holding one of my hands. “Mara Eileen O’Connell, will you marry me for my money and insurance in exchange for your health and the health of our kids?”

I laughed, still in disbelief that this was a real situation in my life at the moment. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” An actual smile came over Jack’s face.

“Yep,” I giggled. “I already told you I would!”

“I just needed to make it official. Sue me. Tomorrow?” Jack stood and leaned down to kiss me.

I held his cheeks in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over his beard. “How about we wait until I’m not covered in a full body rash?”

“Full body? There’s more?”

I nodded. “Pretty much anywhere my clothes touch is breaking out.”

His face darkened. “Let’s get you healthy, and don’t worry about the cost. That’s my problem now.”

I shook my head. “Do you know how weird it is being your pet now? A few days ago, I was employed and now I’m . . . whatever this is. Kept?”

Jack’s eyes went earnest and his smile was soft. “You’re my fiancée.”

“Much better,” I said, and we headed upstairs to get ready for bed. I used the bathroom attached to the guest room where Hazel slept, then knocked on Jack’s bedroom door. A soft “come in” sounded from the other side. Jack was sitting up in bed, reading a book. His long legs stretched out in front of him, culminating at his crotch, where he wore just a pair of black boxer briefs and all that ink on his body. What looked like a poem on his pec. Some animal on the side of his stomach. A crow covering his thigh. One arm in a sleeve with lots of birds and the other less decorated. His heavily inked hands.

The man lying on that bed was nothing short of stunning. And he was about to be my husband. I stood there, gaping when Jack finally flicked a glance my way. “You shy all of a sudden? Bed’s getting cold.”

“Right.” I closed the bedroom door and padded toward the bed and slipped under the covers, greeted by clean-smelling crispy cotton sheets. “Do you usually stay up reading?”

He didn’t regard me. “I started doing it to wind down after games, and now I just do it every night.”

“Lively guy like you, I figured you’d be jerking off first.”

He tipped his head to the side. “That too.”

I was just making a joke, not trying to get him to own up to masturbating. Then again, we’d masturbated together, so what was the difference anymore?

I rested my head on the cool pillow, not really sure whether to face him or away from him. I prefer lying on my left side, but that was facing him. “Do you want to talk?” I asked slowly.

Jack fidgeted with his necklace, a silver crucifix he kept putting between his lip and teeth. “Let me finish this chapter.”

“Oh. Sure.” I waited, letting my eyes flutter shut. With a soft thump and a light breeze on my face, his book closed and he nestled into the sheets facing me.

I grinned, wiggling like we were in our own slumber party. Jack pretended to be unamused by my excitement. I stuck a finger out to toy with his necklace. “Are you religious?”

“Fuck no,” he said. “This was just my Papi’s.”

I found it interesting that Jack Leroy was sentimental at all. “Tell me about Papi. What was his name?”

He drew in a breath, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. It wasn’t an intentional thing, just something he idly played with. His fingers stroked along my neck. “Jacques.”

“Like you,” I said with a smile.

“Not like me. He was better than I could ever be. He was my mom’s dad. I lived with him after the accident, just me and him.”

My eyes rounded, and he nodded, getting that I needed more context.

“Uh, guess I should explain that. My brother and I both played hockey and he was on track to be even better than me. But then there was an accident that paralyzed him from the waist down. And,” he swallowed, tensing, “I was there for the accident. So they sort of blamed me.”

“Oh, no,” I said, not wanting to have too big of a reaction lest I scare him off. I put a gentle hand on his side under the sheets, touching his bare skin. In any other circumstance, that would be too intimate for where we were, but he didn’t pull away. “Do you blame yourself?”

Jack’s eyes drifted into the space between us. “Hard not to. We were climbing a tree. I told him not to go higher, but he had to go to the top. We were competitive little shits,” he laughed, “but this time it had a consequence.”

“He fell,” I supplied.

“Yeah.”

“That must have been awful,” I whispered.

Jack just nodded and went on. “I stayed at home for a while, and I kept playing hockey. Some kid chirped me about my ‘lame’ brother, that I tried to kill him because I was jealous. I lost my shit. Beat the fuckin’ piss out of that kid. Bad.” He paused, looking at me. “I’m not proud of it. I just couldn’t stop myself and . . . yeah. My parents were horrified. I got thrown out of the league and sent to live with Papi for a fresh start. Out on Cape Breton, kind of more removed from the madness and people who knew what happened. He got me back on track, got me to focus on nature and music and stuff.”

I dragged a finger between his pecs, thinking. “How are things with your family?”

He shook his head. “Not great. My mom’s always trying to patch things up, and J.P. doesn’t hold anything against me. Doesn’t remember much about the actual accident. My dad is . . . my dad. He was a crazy hockey dad before and remained one after. He was mad at me for taking his star away from him.”

I wrinkled my brow. “But . . . you’re a star.”

“Not like he was,” Jack said, and I felt every bit of the guilt and shame in what he said.

“I’m glad you had Papi,” I said, continuing to let my hand drag over his skin.

“Me too. I was there until I went to hockey boarding school.”

I held my eyes shut. “A lot to unpack there, the least of which is ‘what is hockey boarding school?’”

He snorted. “It’s a thing. Promise. Kind of a factory for NHL players.”

“A whole other world I know nothing about. Bryce obviously didn’t go to hockey boarding school.”

“It’s really okay,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of a cult.”

Something more uncomfortable settled in as I processed the details of Jack’s family, and I looked up at Jack to find him searching my face. “What?”

“Jack, you’re not . . . taking care of me because of some shit with your brother, right?”

“What? No.”

“I don’t want to be some atonement for some perceived past mistake.”

“Mara, that’s not why we’re here.”

“Then why?”

His hand landed on my upper arm, his thumb brushing over my shoulder. “You make everything around you brighter. My kids.” He swallowed and rolled his lips between his teeth. “Me. And selfishly, I want more of that. I want you close.”

All this from a man who would never love me. I mentally called bullshit right then.

Jack’s voice showed his insecurity on his next statement. “I just hope you’re getting something out of this.”

I rested my hand under his ear, making sure he met my eyes. “I am. You’re a good man, Jack Leroy.”

He ground his teeth. “I’m really not. You saw me at the hospital.”

I lifted a brow. “That wasn’t great. But you were sticking up for me.”

Jack seemed so deeply sad. “I’m messed up, Mara. I . . . I have a dark side.”

I rubbed my lips together. “What are you saying?”

He hesitated. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

I flapped my mouth, trying to find the right words. “Should I be afraid?”

He chewed his lower lip. “I don’t know. I just get really defensive when it comes to my people.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” I laced my fingers with his. “I’ll tell you if I get scared.”

Jack’s warm, deep brown eyes searched mine, clearly needing more.

“Would it make you feel better if we had an exit plan?” I asked.

Jack’s breath stopped. “Like . . . to not be married anymore?”

“Yeah. Do we have a rip cord we can pull if everything’s going south?”

Jack’s voice went gravelly. “Yeah. We should. I mean, we both had communication issues with our exes. Not this time, though. No lies. We stay honest. If something’s not working, we say it. Even if it sucks. Even if it’s ugly. Even if it’s that your farts stink or you don’t like fucking me?—”

“Again, who said we’re fucking?” I asked, raising up on an elbow. “You are making so many assumptions.”

“The way you kiss me. The way you licked my cock, Mara. We’d be fools not to at least try.”

I leveled him with a look. “But we’re not falling in love?”

“Nope. No love. Just two adults having sex and being married. And raising kids together.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure married fuck buddies is a thing.”

He had an absolute panty-melter of a smile on. “First time for everything.”

I gave him a playful slap in the chest and he acted offended. “You hit me!”

It was my turn to smirk. “I can hit a lot harder than that.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he said with a wicked grin, wrestling me to him again.

A quiet settled between us, and I basked in Jack’s glow, his warm skin and his soft breath against the top of my head. “So, if we’re not getting married tomorrow, when?”

I twisted my lips to think. “Are you here the day after Thanksgiving?”

He cocked his head. “Here, no game.”

“It would be appropriate for two ex-emo kids to get married on Black Friday,” I pointed out.

“Ooooh, I like that,” Jack said, then gasped. “Should we get tats?”

I flinched. “Maybe let’s start with getting married and make sure we don’t kill each other.”

“Fair. But that means you can come with me to Thanksgiving,” he said. It seemed important to him since he’d brought it up more than once. It was cute that he cared, and I wasn’t about to shut him down again. I was going to be joining his life. May as well start right away. That was only four days away.

I stuck out my pinky. “Black Friday,” I said.

He linked his pinky with mine. “Black Friday.”

We each kissed our thumbs to seal the deal, and I yawned. “Let’s get some sleep, sweetheart.”

I grinned. “I like when you call me that.”

“I like calling you that,” he said, looking over my face. His mouth quirked up, and he whispered, “One more.”

“One more wha—” The questions was stolen from my lips when Jack leaned in to kiss me again. He might have just meant it to be a sweet goodnight kiss, but I’d almost died in the last few days. I kissed him back like I meant it. I let his warm skin radiate into mine. I soaked up the feeling of our lips sliding together, his beard against my chin, his arms wrapping me up.

Then, I fell asleep in my future fuck buddy husband’s arms.