The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(35)
Author: Alice Clayton

I pulled into Holly’s driveway, thinking about what had happened right before we left the restaurant. We’d had a wonderful time. On two occasions girls approached the table, and they were so young it was sweet to watch Jack interact with them. Thankfully, the Whores stayed away. I think they knew better.

We were standing by the valet stand, waiting for the car to be pulled around, and Jack held my hand while I naughtily kissed his neck. That’s when I saw flashes. There was a photographer—and he had gotten it all. I immediately dropped his hand, trying to melt away into the background. He smiled for the camera a few times and then the person backed off. I looked guiltily at him as the valet brought my car to the front, and Jack walked around to open the passenger side for me.

“Don’t worry about it. No harm done,” he whispered, getting me tucked in before tipping the valet, taking the keys and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Oh man, that’s not good. I know Holly is going to kill me.”

“Grace, if I’m not concerned, why should you be? Maybe soon you’ll be the identified redhead,” he teased. I smiled, but I knew she was not going to be pleased if that picture showed up anywhere.

Thirty minutes later, I let myself in the backdoor, hearing her call out my name from the living room. She was curled up on the couch watching the news.

“Hey, asshead. How was dinner?”

“It was good.”

“Where’s Jack? No orgy tonight?”

“He’s stopping by his place to pick up a few things and then he’ll be along.” I smiled, grabbing a piece of the brownie that she was munching on.

“So we have a few minutes to talk?” she asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Well, remember the meeting with the producers for that musical you auditioned for a few weeks ago? The one that’s still being workshopped? They want to see you again.”

“Seriously? That’s great! When is it?”

“Tomorrow, so I wouldn’t recommend any screaming tonight. Besides, I can’t take another night like last night.”

“That’s OK. I can’t either.” I smiled, thinking of how much I’d enjoyed myself, then shook my head to clear it and started up the stairs.

“Will you send him up when he gets here?” I called over my shoulder.

“Yes’m.”

As I headed upstairs, my thoughts moved from my Brit to the meeting tomorrow. This musical was very exciting, exactly what I would love to be doing.

‘My Brit?’ When did you start calling him your Brit?

Shhhh …

I changed into my white Polo button down, yawning. I was still tired from last night. I slipped between the sheets and was already starting on the last story in the series when I heard Jack coming up the stairs. I smiled in anticipation of seeing him again, and when he opened the door to my bedroom, his smile mirrored my own.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, yourself,” he answered, bringing a duffle bag and a guitar case into the room with him.

“What, are you moving in?” I asked, shocked at the size of his bag.

“No, Nuts Girl. I just brought what I needed, and I usually play my guitar at night, unless I am otherwise engaged that is.” He smirked at me . “A little late-night reading?” he joked, nodding at my reading material.

“Hey, we went through this already. I will no longer apologize for this. This series is amazing, and your candy ass should be glad you got cast,” I countered, snuggling deeper into the bed and reopening my magazine.

Jack putzed for a few minutes, rummaging through his bag, plugging in his iPod, plugging in his phone, plugging in his laptop. Guys have so much gear.

He seemed very comfortable here already, and I equally loved and hated how much I liked seeing that. He went into the bathroom and I could hear the water running. He was taking a quick shower before bed. I kept on reading.

Just as Joshua was coming out of the bathroom in 1920s New York to seduce Ruby the Ziegfield Girl, Jack came out of my bathroom. I looked up quickly and then had to look again to truly appreciate what was coming toward me.

Jack’s hair was wet and yet still artfully tousled … how did he do that? He was clean-shaven, wearing black boxer-briefs and a grin. His strawberry blond happy trail was calling out to me.

“Did I tell you, by the way, that I love your glasses?” he asked, nodding to the frames that I was peering over to get a more unobstructed view of him.

“Thanks, um, thanks … hi,” I stammered, once again speechless and idiotic at the sight of his semi-nakedness.

“I brought you something,” he said, digging through his duffle and then climbing into his side of the bed.

Isn’t it a little early to start assigning sides?

Shush.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I asked.

He slipped under the covers with his laptop and turned to me. “Shut your eyes,” he instructed. I did what I was told. When I opened them, he had placed a new bag of Chex Mix in my hands.

“Yes! Can we have some now?”

“You can have anything you want, Gracie.” He smiled, brushing my hair back from my face and kissing me lightly on the tip of my nose.

A few minutes later, we had settled into a companionable silence. There was a pile of my discarded Melba toasts on the bed between us, next to a pile of Wheat Chex that he had selflessly given up to me. He answered emails as I read.

It was nice. I read for a little while longer and when I could feel my eyes getting droopy, I set my book on the nightstand and snuggled down under the covers. I watched Jack type for a moment and then I turned on the TV. I found Lifetime just in time for my favorite theme song, which I quickly began to sing along to.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, looking up from his laptop.

“Oh, come on, you don’t know the Golden Girls?”

“Should I?”

“Oh, they’re the best! I fall asleep to the Golden Gs almost every night!” I answered happily, burrowing under the covers next to him. He watched in spite of himself, being drawn into it against his will. Finally, he gave up the fight and shut down his laptop. He turned off the light on the nightstand as well and cuddled up to me.

We lay, watching Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sophia, giggling every once in awhile. He seemed to be a Rose fan. I would have pegged him for Sophia.

He was lying with his head on my breast, arms lazily around me while I played with his hair. When the show was over, I clicked the remote and the room fell into darkness.