The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(52)
Author: Alice Clayton

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Did he touch you?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes.”

He put his hands on me.

“Did he you touch you here?” he asked, placing his hands on my br**sts.

I started to sob.

“Did he?”

I nodded. I nodded in horror at what I had done, what I’d allowed to happen.

He stared at me, and I saw the tears. He had tears.

He sat back down, head in hands.

“This is so f**ked up,” I heard him murmur, and I went to him. I was going to fight for this.

“Jack, I’m telling you because I don’t want to keep anything from you, not anymore. When I was with Michael—” I started.

His eyes closed as he winced. Without another thought, I clasped his hand. I needed to feel him, and instinctively I knew he needed my touch as well. He calmed a bit, and I continued.

“You may not want to hear this, but I need you to know. I need you to know how close I came to throwing this away, but I stopped! I stopped because I realized I don’t ever want to feel another man’s hands on me. Not ever.”

I lifted our hands between us and looked down at them. I felt his hands grasp mine more tightly.

“These are the hands I want to hold, that I want on me, and around my waist, and in my hair, and holding my boobies when I go to sleep at night,” I said fiercely, now with no tears.

Jack seemed captivated. He held one of my hands in both of his, and I raised my free hand to his face, brushing his hair from his forehead, then letting my fingertips graze his lips.

“This is the mouth I love—the only mouth I want on me,” I said, allowing myself a slight smile.

He sighed heavily, tension either beginning to leave his body, or starting to build again.

I dropped my hand to his chest and worked my way inside his jacket. I rested my palm flat against him, and I could feel the warmth through his shirt.

“This, this wonderful heart right here?” I said, tapping his chest. The side of his mouth quirked up a little. “This is the heart I need. And if I have this—and a little schmaltz—I don’t need anything else in the world,” I said, and he smiled, my smile. The smile that had changed my life months ago.

But then his face changed. The smile faded. “But what about everything that you said? What about the nine years?” he asked.

“I don’t care. Clearly you are more emotionally mature than me, so we balance out.”

“What about the fame, the cameras, the photographers? What about people finding out about us? What about the next time someone posts a picture of us and says something nasty about you?”

“I’ll deal with it.”

“Grace…”

“Jack,” I insisted.

“What about Michael? What if you decide you want to be more than friends with him again?” he asked.

“I get it. That’s a fair question. And he will likely be around—we’re working together. But know that there could not be anything other than friendship between us. I thought he was back in my life for a reason, but I know now that reason is nothing other than being a friend and the creator of the show I’m in. That’s all there is, and that’s all there ever will be. I know this, he knows this, and now you know this. I belong to you, if you’ll have me.”

I smiled, and after what seemed like an eternity, he smiled too.

“Now, screw lunch. Let’s go fix this,” I said, tugging on his hand. He finally stood, but he put his hands on my shoulders and once again pushed me away.

My heart sank. What if everything I’d said wasn’t enough?

We’ll deal with it…

I was still determined. It didn’t matter what I had to do. I was never letting this man go again.

“I need to tell you something too, Grace,” he said, sinking back into his chair. He took a deep breath.

“Tell me what?” I looked at him expectantly. My heart began to pound a funny beat, as though it knew something my brain hadn’t quite caught on to yet.

“Back in L.A, well, something happened with me too,” he said, and I knew without question what he was going to tell me. The pictures in the magazine with the blonde. He’d done what I’d done. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew.

“After the movie came out and I got back in town, well, I went on a bit of a bender,” he said, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. I took my seat across the table once more, waiting to hear what he needed to tell me.

Breathe…

“I was so mad at you, Grace. So mad, and I was drinking so much and…other things were happening, and I just was out of my mind, totally out of my mind. One night, one thing led to another, and, well, I went home with someone. Totally random. It meant nothing, but…oh, God, Grace, it was awful.”

He looked at me now with tears in his eyes, and I saw once more what I’d done to him.

“I tried, Grace. I was so damn mad at you, but, Christ, I missed you, and this girl, she was so beautiful, and she smelled like coconuts, you know? She smelled like coconuts, and that reminded me of you, but they were awful coconuts—synthetic, and syrupy sweet, and not at all like my girl, and I just—I didn’t, I mean, I did things, but I didn’t…” he rambled on, so torn up inside.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to hear another word. I’d heard enough.

I came around the table and knelt in front of him again. I lifted his head so he’d look at me. He looked so very sad and so very young in that moment. I pressed my fingers to his lips to stop his words and leaned in. My heart was thumping wildly.

“I don’t care. I don’t want to know. Do you love me?” I asked.

“What?” he asked, his voice muffled through my fingers. He looked at me with wide eyes.

I chuckled lightly and removed my hand, cupping his cheek with my fingers. “Do you love me?” I asked again.

He was quiet for just a moment, and I couldn’t breathe. My world stopped in that instant. It could easily have been a lifetime as I waited for his answer.

“I do love you, Grace, of course I do. But—”

That was all I needed to hear.

I was on my feet and in his lap in a nanosecond. I pressed myself into his arms and kissed him square on the lips. This was my man, and I needed his mouth on mine—right now.

I pulled back to see him staring at me. “Then I don’t care what you did,” I explained. “They can cancel each other out. I don’t want to know the details. Please don’t ever tell me,” I said quickly, then forced myself on him again. This time his lips responded, and he kissed me hungrily. His hands found my hips and pulled me against him, pulling me home.