She forced herself to put her hands in her back pockets. "Well, thanks for helping me back there. That guy was getting way too handsy."
Jack's expression darkened. "Handsy? I watched as you tried to get away from him. You're lucky he didn't follow you to the bathroom and do something worse."
"He was just a drunk asshole." Gwen swallowed. "It happens."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful. If you'd gotten hurt..." Jack looked away. "Just promise me you'll be more careful in the future, okay?"
That dangerous warmth inside her body only increased. Jack had been worried about her. Scared for her, even. It melted any anger she felt at his words.
"I will be. I promise." She shrugged. "I don't usually get drunk and go to clubs, you know. Alex wanted me to get out."
"Alex needs to find better ways to have fun."
He sounded like a grumbling old man and Gwen had to restrain a laugh. Reaching out, she touched his forearm. His gaze shot straight to where her hand sat, and she felt the look like a brand.
"Thank you," said Gwen solemnly. "For always looking out for me. You've been a good friend."
Something crossed his face, something Gwen couldn't name. She hadn't yet removed her hand. Feeling awkward, she tried to move away, but he only caught her hand in his.
"Gwen," he rumbled. He cupped her cheek. "Gwen," he repeated on a sigh.
Then he was leaning forward, and Gwen's toes curled in her boots as she awaited his mouth pressing against hers. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Her heart fluttered with anticipation.
But then she felt a cold wash of anxiety. Something must’ve changed in her expression because Jack flinched.
"Gwen! Oh my God, there you are!" cried Alex.
Jack let go of her so quickly that Gwen nearly stumbled to the ground. Alex then was at her side, Felicity right beside her. Jack had already backed away from Gwen, like he'd discovered she had the plague.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry we lost each other. We were still inside, waiting for you, but when you didn't come back from the bathroom we were worried—"
Gwen held up a hand. "I'm fine. I've just been outside talking to Jack. I should've let you know first." She eyed him. "Isn't that right, Jack?"
"That's right," he replied. Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he said goodbye to the trio and walked away into the night.
"What was he doing here?" Felicity frowned.
"Maybe he's gotten into clubbing," joked Alex.
Gwen was staring at his retreating back. He'd been about to kiss her–hadn't he? Or had she imagined the entire scenario?
But she could still feel his breath, the warmth of his hand. She could see his dark eyes on her face, drinking her in. Her brain struggled to understand, but her body knew exactly what had happened.
"Too bad he's such a grump because he's super hot," said Alex, breaking Gwen's reverie. "Although I'm not convinced he can actually have a conversation. I think he's only ever spoken five words to me, total."
"He only talks to people when he needs to." Gwen knew her tone was sharp, so she softened it as she added, "Unlike some people, who just chatter away."
"Me? Never. And anyway, pot, meet kettle. The only person here that can match Benson for silence is our dearest Felicity here," said Alex.
Felicity smiled a little. "Someone has to listen to the chatterboxes."
"See? It's a symbiotic relationship," replied Alex, laughing.
By the time Gwen returned home, it was so late that she knew she'd have to have her assistant manager fill in for her tomorrow. Or today, she realized, looking at her phone.
As she closed her eyes, though, she wasn't thinking about work. She was thinking only about Jack.
She flung a pillow over her face, groaning in despair. Why had she frozen like that? Did she subconsciously not want to kiss Jack Benson?
No, I do. I think I've wanted to kiss him for a long time, she admitted to herself. So why the nerves?
Gwen wanted to tear her own hair out in frustration. She just had to be her own worst enemy, and now, Jack would never initiate something with her again.
Despite her best efforts, tears sprang to her eyes. She heard Tim's voice in her head all over again: what's wrong with you? There must be something truly broken inside of her, she thought. Because what sane, heterosexual woman would reject a man like Jack?
Swiping away the tears, she eventually fell into a restless sleep.
Chapter Six
Gwen was avoiding him.
He knew when someone didn't want to talk to him. Although Gwen was her usual kind self, she had a reserve about her that made Jack seethe. When she handed him his morning coffee days after their aborted kiss, she looked like she wanted to bolt as fast as she could.
Jack didn't understand it. He might not be the greatest at understanding a woman's feelings, but he understood signals. Gwen had done everything he'd expect from a woman: she'd tilted her head back, her pupils had dilated, and she hadn't removed her hand from his arm. She hadn't pulled away at all–at first.
But then he'd felt her stiffen. When he saw fear in her eyes, he'd felt it like a slap to the face.
Tossing a net overboard, Jack said to himself, "What the fuck was that?" Of course, no one answered. No one else was around for miles. Only the sound of the waves lapping, along with the occasional gull crying out, punctured the silence around him.
Normally, he enjoyed the solitude. But his head was all messed up, and he could barely concentrate on fishing. It had been a week since that night he'd pulled Gwen out of Deja Vu. He'd seen her three times, and all three times, she said hello and goodbye as quickly as she could.
"Benson, what the fuck are you doing?" he said, shaking his head. He was being an idiot. If a woman didn't want him, well, that was that. No reason to have a breakdown over it. He could find another woman to warm his bed easily enough.
He didn't just want a warm body, though. And the mere thought that Gwen had reacted in fear to his touch made him feel like his insides were all tangled up. He hated it. He never wanted her to be afraid of him.
As he turned the boat to return to shore, he felt doubt creeping in. He must've misread her signals. He'd been too pushy. She wasn't like the women he usually pursued. She was sweet, innocent. If she hadn't been married previously, he'd almost think she was a virgin.
A dark cloud hovered over Jack when he returned to shore, matching the gray clouds amassing in the sky. A rainstorm was coming, and the second he closed his truck door, the rain started falling.
He didn't need to go into town this morning. But he found himself driving there anyway. He had to see Gwen. He had to–he didn't know, exactly.
Why does it matter? She's not your girlfriend. She's just a friend.
And that must be it, Jack realized. She saw him as a friend and nothing else. He'd misinterpreted her friendliness for flirtation.
God, he was a fucking idiot. How could he be so blind?
When he parked his truck behind the bed and breakfast, Jack didn't think about what he was doing. He simply went into the kitchen like he did when he dropped off a fresh catch.