Jack
I exit my LandCruiser and pull my sunglasses off as I stare at the woman resting her ass against the red convertible parked near my front door.
My eyes go to her legs first, starting at the heels that have no place out here in the bush. But Jessica has never given a fuck about what has a place in her life and what doesn’t. She’s always made up her own rules as she goes.
“This place is tiny,” she says as I run my gaze up her body.
I barely process her words because I’m too busy processing her beauty. All five foot three of it.
Long brown hair that’s cascading over her shoulders in waves.
Beautiful hazel eyes that have always had me spellbound.
Full lips painted in her signature red.
Sinful curves built for my ruin.
Physically, Jessica is perfection, but it’s not her physical beauty that draws me in. It’s the beauty I found in her heart eight years ago that does that. Jessica’s heart is exquisite. Rare. Unique. There isn’t another heart on this planet I want as much as hers.
“Jack.”
I meet her gaze and close the distance between us, smiling for the first time in days. Fuck, she’s a sight for sore eyes. “I should have known he’d send you.”
“I should have known he wouldn’t tell you he was sending me.” She narrows her eyes at me. “How are you?”
That’s a question with no good answer. Not one that I like, anyway.
“I’m sober,” I say. “Let’s not go any deeper than that for now.” I eye her rental car. “How many suitcases have you got in there?” Jessica isn’t usually a light traveller. Hell, the last trip we took together years ago involved three suitcases, far too many carry-on bags, and a fucker of an argument that ended with me sleeping on the couch for the first night.
Popping the boot, she says, “I made sure to pack enough for you to have to make multiple trips inside. Knock yourself out.”
I grin.
Fuck, I love this woman.
I hand her my house keys. “Go choose a room.”
She glances at my house and then arrows her brows at me. “You’ve got more than one for me to choose from? When I pulled up and saw how small this place is, I assumed I’d be in your bed while you were on the couch.”
“My bed is all yours if you want it.”
She turns on her heel and my eyes are instantly glued to her ass. “I stopped wanting your bed a long time ago, Jack.” She takes a few steps towards the front door. “And stop looking at my ass. You’ve got a boot to empty.”
I keep my eyes right where they are. “The boot can wait, gorgeous.”
The last thing I see as she enters my house is the shake of her head at what I’ve said.
Suddenly, my time here figuring out my shit is looking up. Jessica’s presence alone makes any day I have to get through a little easier.
I pull out my phone and call Ashton.
He answers on the second ring. “I take it she’s arrived.”
“She has, and I thank you, my friend. You sent the exact right person for the job.”
“I sent the only person I trust to get the job done.”
“She’s okay with this?”
“She is far from okay with this, but that woman will do anything for you. Don’t take advantage of that.”
“How long is she here for?”
“A week. She’ll work from there. I’ll be up next week.”
I turn silent for a moment, thinking about what he’s sacrificing here. Ashton and I have been friends for eighteen years and he would also do anything for me. The problem is, lately, he’s done far more for me than I would prefer. I fucking hate being a burden to those I love, and that’s what it feels like I am right now.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling those words deeply, while also regretting the need for them.
“I have to go, but I’m aiming to get up there sooner if I can.”
“We’re good here, Ashton. You don’t need to drop everything to race up here to see me.” I know my friend, though, and his need to see for himself that those he loves are okay. He’d have met me here yesterday if he could have.
“It’ll probably just be me. Lorelei’s busy with work.” He stops talking before muttering, “Fuck, I have to go.”
With that, he ends the call and I slip my phone back into my pocket.
My attention shifts to Jessica as she exits the house and comes my way. As hard as I try, I can’t take my eyes off her. That black pantsuit of hers with those heels is sexy as hell. It screams power and confidence; two things Jessica wears better than anyone.
“Seriously, Jack,” she says, “You have all this land, and this tiny shack is the best you can do to fill it?”
I chuckle. Jessica always did like the finer things in life, including space and luxury. “Sweetheart, this isn’t a shack.”
“It is.”
I start pulling her suitcases out of the boot. “I love it when you talk dirty to me. Let’s keep this up for your entire visit.” Jessica is my favourite sparring partner. She never gives me an inch.
She shoots me one of her bored looks. The one I’m almost certain she reserves for me. “Let’s not.”
“Jesus,” I say as I struggle with the last suitcase in her car. “What the hell have you got in here?” It weighs a ton.
“A girl needs supplies if she’s going to stay in the middle of nowhere, Jack.”
“What could a girl possibly need out here?” My property is on twenty acres of land overlooking the Nymboida River about forty minutes out of Grafton. We’re surrounded by trees, trees, and more trees. She’ll be lucky to see another human the entire time she’s here. Whatever she has in that suitcase is shit she’s not going to need.
With a sigh and a shake of that beautiful head of hers, she says, “You have no idea about women.” With that, she takes one of her bags and leaves me to go inside. Again, I track her ass every step of the way. I might be here to work on my addictions, but my addiction for Jessica isn’t one I’m even close to walking away from. I’d happily get high on her for the rest of my life if I could.
A text sounds from my phone and I pull it from my pocket to check the message.
Josephine: Tell me you fired that bitch of a manager of yours.
Jack: Yes. Why?
Josephine: She’s responsible for this.
She sends me the link to a news article that I open.
Jack Kingsley Screws & Snorts His Way To Career Suicide is the heading. I don’t bother to read the article. It’s a pile of shit I don’t need to ingest, and I’m surprised Josephine sent it because she usually doesn’t read this kind of garbage.
Jack: I’m not reading that, Jo.
Josephine: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent it, but I was so worked up over it that I couldn’t think straight.
Josephine: How are you? Is Ashton with you?
Jack: Not Ashton. He sent Jessica.
Josephine: Are you sure that’s a good idea?
She knows how I feel about Jessica. She also knows that Jessica is the one person who has the power to wreck me. Besides myself, that is.
Jack: You don’t need to worry about me. I’m good.
Josephine: I hope you are, Jack. And FYI, I will always worry about you.
Jack: I’ve gotta go. Talk soon.
Josephine: xx
The thing about that gossip headline? I did snort my way to career suicide. I also drank my way here. And now I have to deal with the fallout of that. Not to mention the fallout of the choice I made two days ago.
I walked away from the movie I was due to start filming next week.
I fired Belinda after she lost her shit at me.
My agent, Rodney, also lost his shit. He hasn’t quit on me. Yet.
My publicist…. Well, let’s just say I haven’t had a publicist for months now, and that doesn’t look like it’s changing any time soon.
I’m not sure I’ve got a career to go back to.
And for the first time in my life, that thought doesn’t send me into a cold sweat.
I make the first trip inside with half of Jessica’s bags and after depositing them in the bedroom she chose, I go in search of her.
She’s in the bathroom.
Bent over, inspecting the vanity cupboard.
I rest my shoulder against the doorjamb and cross my arms, letting my eyes roam her body.
She doesn’t move. “Are your eyes going to be on my ass this entire visit?”
“Currently, they’re not on your ass.” They’re getting lost in the tattoo running down her arm. The thin line of text she got inked while we were in Scotland years ago. The text that I also have in the exact same position on my body.
Straightening and turning to face me, her gaze meets mine as I bring it back to her face. I know from the look flashing in her eyes that she’s aware of where mine have been.
She shakes her head and says in a very Jessica-bossy way, “You need to stop whatever thoughts are running through your mind right now. I’m here to make sure you stay sober. That’s it.”
Keeping my shoulder right where it is, and my arms right where they are, I let my mouth curl up into the grin it wants. “You know I’ve never been good at stopping any of my thoughts. I don’t see that changing any time soon.”
“Jack,” she starts, a warning in her tone.
I cut her off. “If we’re done like you think we are, my thoughts won’t change a thing. So you do your thing and let me enjoy my thoughts. Fuck knows, they’re the only good thing in my head these days.”
Her eyes search mine for a long moment. “You need to find new thoughts, Jack. Ones that don’t involve me.”
With that, she moves past me and exits the bathroom.
I watch her walk down the short hallway and into her bedroom before making my way back outside to collect the rest of her bags. When I return to her bedroom with them, she’s standing in front of the window, surveying the property.
Without turning to me, she says, “How long have you had this place now?”
“Four years.”
“Do you get here much?”
“Two or three times a year. Not as much as I’d prefer.”
She turns and gives me those beautiful eyes that never fail to mesmerise me. “You have that power, you know? To choose how often you visit your own home.”
I nod slowly. She’s right. I do. And yet, I’ve chosen to live my life at full throttle, working month in, month out, barely resting between projects. “That’s something I’m figuring out. I never was quick at figuring out my own shit, was I?”
“That’s some bullshit if ever I’ve heard bullshit. The only thing you’re not quick at is pulling your head out of your ass.” She pauses and gives me another one of her trademark pointed looks that I’m convinced she keeps exclusively for me. “It’s time to get out of your own way.”
I smile. I’m un-fucking-able not to. She’s right, but even more, I like the way she never fails to call me out. “Yeah, gorgeous, it is.”
She shoos her hands at me. “Go. I need to unpack. And I suspect that with the minimal closet space in this tiny shack, it may require great concentration to make my things fit.”
My smile morphs into a full-blown grin as I exit the room.
I don’t own a shack, but it is small.
And right now, I’m thanking myself for choosing this three-bedroom house over the impressive property I could have bought.
There’s no way Jessica can avoid me in this place.
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