Eyeing his muscles, I wonder if maybe I am wrong. He’s not prepping for a movie, and he hasn’t worked on one for over a year.
“You like my new shorts?” he asks when I don’t respond to what he said, and I swear his voice has the ability to smirk.
I settle my cap in place and ignore all the cockiness assaulting me. Taking off down the driveway, I throw over my shoulder, “Those shorts better make you run fast.”
His chuckle is his only response, but he easily catches up to me, making me wonder again about whether he’s embraced regular exercise.
Jack surprises me by not uttering a word during our run. He’s always been as good with silence as I am, but still, I expected something. The man does like to torture me with his witty banter.
We run for an hour and a half down and back the long stretch of road Jack lives on. I’m a city girl through and through, but there’s something about the peace and quiet out here. There’s something about the trees, the birds, and even the red dirt and dry grass. Or maybe I just appreciate that Jack doesn’t force me into conversation.
He keeps up with me, never falling behind, and when we arrive back at his place, I finally break the silence. “I thought you didn’t enjoy running.”
“I don’t.”
“And yet you just did it for an hour and a half without complaint.”
He reaches behind and pulls his foot up to stretch his quad. “I do a lot of things without complaint that I don’t enjoy, Jessica.”
There’s the contemplative, serious side of Jack I’ve been waiting for. The side I fell in love with all those years ago.
I follow suit and stretch my quads too. “You’ve taken up running?”
He takes his time answering, watching me for a few moments before glancing past me. When he gives me his eyes again, my chest squeezes at what I see in them. When he speaks, it only continues to press in on itself. “Yeah. It helps when not much else does.”
After decades of fighting against dealing with his addictions, Jack has surrendered, and damn if I don’t feel how that’s affecting him.
There’s no serenity in this for him.
I didn’t expect there to be, but I’m not sure I was prepared to experience this with him.
I should have been. I know how this addiction goes. I watched my father grapple with it, and while I may have been young, I understood what I witnessed. I grasped the pain. The carnage. The way it ravages a person’s soul.
I move onto stretching my calves as I say softly, “Yes, it does.”
We don’t talk again while finishing our stretches. When we’re done, Jack leaves me to go into his bedroom while I head into mine. I turn to face him when I reach my door, not sure of exactly what I want to say, but feeling the need to check on him. I miss my chance, though, catching his door closing behind him.
I stall, hesitant to go to him, to knock on his door and open a can of worms.
I came here simply to ensure he stays sober.
I didn’t come here for long discussions about how he’s coping.
Shit.
When I hear his shower running, I exhale the breath trapped in my lungs and turn to go into my room.
I’m here for one week, and I’m here for one purpose.
I do not need to go deep with him in this time.
I will not go deep with him in this time.
6
Jack
“I know you have muscles, Jack, but I can help carry those,” Jessica says late Sunday afternoon when we get back from a trip into Grafton to pick up groceries.
I grin, laying my best smile on her. “You noticed them?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s hard not to when you insist on wearing that shirt. How old is it, anyway? You need to hire a better assistant who takes their job seriously and orders you new clothes when you need them.”
I look down at my grey T-shirt. She’s right; it’s old. But it’s not the age of the shirt she’s muttering about. It’s the fact it struggles to fit itself over my muscles. The ones I’ve come across since swapping booze and coke for running and weights.
I fucking love the effect these muscles have on her.
“I don’t have an assistant,” I say as I carry the shopping bags into my kitchen.
“Wait.” She comes to a stop, staring at me with disbelief. “Why not? What happened to the one you had? The one I sent all that information to that Ashton requested I send last month.”
I shrug, dumping the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I have no need for her these days.”
She frowns as she joins me at the counter. “When did you let her go? And why do you have no need for her? You’re not planning on staying here forever, are you? Jesus, Jack, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
Jessica is cool and detached most of the time. With me, at least. She’s been like that since we broke up. Seeing her like this, a little bewildered and attached, makes my day.
“I let her go yesterday. And let me tell you, it was a fucking painful conversation. Jilly was, to put it mildly, not the best fit for me.”
Her lips twitch with amusement before curling up into a laugh. “I would have paid good money to listen in on that conversation. It’s not often we see Jack Kingsley muddle his way through anything.”
I shake my head, reaching into one of the bags to transfer the cold food into the fridge. “Trust me, I muddle my way through many things, sweetheart. But if I never have to muddle my way through firing a staff member again, it will make me a happy man.”
Still laughing, she helps me with the groceries. This might be my favourite part of today so far. It feels familiar, comfortable, like old times. Shopping together, arguing with her over the fact I don’t have any security with me here for occasions like shopping, allowing her to take charge of my disguise for said shopping expedition so we weren’t accosted by fans, and now this. I’d muddle my way through hell to have this kind of time with her every day for the rest of my life.
“Have you never had to fire anyone before?”
“Only Belinda, but that wasn’t hard. Not like this. I don’t think I’ll ever hire anyone again. It’ll save me a lot of heartache.”
“You are such a pussy.”
“Baby, I’m a lover, not a fighter. You know this.” I pass the meat to her. “Tell me again what you’re making with all these ingredients.”
She shakes her head at me, fully aware of my game here. The one where I’m pretending to have a shitty memory so I can keep her talking. We need safe topics, or I fear she’ll banish me outside again like she did this morning. She humours me, regardless of the fact she knows what I’m doing. “It’s a beef curry, and that’s all I’m telling you this time since your memory has disappeared along with your balls.”
“Maybe you could help me find them.”
More rolling of her eyes in the exact way I like. It means I’ve affected her, and I’ll take that over the indifference she usually tries to show me. “I’m a busy girl, Jack, and that job feels like a long-term one. It looks like you’re gonna have to hire a new assistant after all.”
We finish unpacking, and not wanting to leave her, I say, “Okay, what’s first?”