“Yes,” I said firmly. “Right. So call me back when you wake up, I want to know how it’s going with ‘choco-eyes.’ You’re good right?”
“Yes, Miss Butler, I’m fine. And we’ll be back in time for your art opening at the hotel. Or sooner. Have you found a dress yet?”
“Ugh. No.” I grimaced. I decided to slide the sash window up and let the night air flow in through the screen. It slid up with a screech. “I’m supposed to go have lunch with Colt tomorrow, guess I’ll deal with finding a cocktail dress tomorrow, too.”
Just then another movement caught my eye. There was definitely someone standing under … my stomach dropped, right as my heart lurched up into my mouth. Jack stepped out into the moonlight.
“Uh, Jazz. I gotta go, talk to you tomorrow.” I let my hand with the phone slip away from my ear, hopefully hitting “end” with my thumb, and stared out the window down to the lone figure. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, his face tilted up at me.
I sat uncertainly for a few minutes, my pulse skittering, and tried to get a handle on this new development. The soft night breeze wafted in over my bare arms, bringing with it the scent of newly-flowered jasmine.
He wasn’t wearing his ball cap, and the breeze ruffled his darker, longer hair.
It seemed laughable now, that I would have waited until tomorrow morning. I cocked my head. “You realize this qualifies as seriously creepy.”
I thought I saw his mouth lift slightly on one side.
“I couldn’t sleep and thought walking would help. And well, I ended up here.” Jack shrugged, his hands still wedged in his jeans. His soft, deep voice that I knew so well, that the world knew so well, was a smooth melody over the jagged rasping of the cicadas. “I didn’t know you’d be awake.”
You just showed back up in my life, how could I be sleeping? I bit down, holding my teeth together to keep from inviting him in. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked eventually.
“Why couldn’t you?” he returned.
My skin got warm. “I was sleeping.” Barely. I imagined I saw his eyes narrow. “But Jazz texted and woke me,” I added. Not technically a lie.
Jack nodded, pursing his lips and rocked back on his heels. I could see more details now that my eyes were accustomed to the night and the clouds continued clearing the sky. He was wearing dark jeans and a snug dark t-shirt. His eyes hadn’t left me. I reached up and smoothed my hair, tucking an errant strand back in the direction of my messy braid, wondering what on earth I looked like after tossing and turning for the last few hours.
“Stop.”
I paused.
“You’re beautiful.”
Wasn’t that just great? My blood pressure rose. I clamped my jaw tight again. My upbringing dictated I thank him, but a wave of anger, no … make that pure and utter pissed-off-ness, almost choked me. “You can’t even see me,” I snorted. “Nice try. What do you want anyway?”
“I don’t need to see you to know you’re beautiful.”
Well, didn’t that knock an oyster out of its shell? What was he playing at? “Seriously, what do you want, Jack? You need someone to buy your groceries or something?” My acidic tone left no doubt about how I felt.
His shoulders moved almost imperceptibly, and I had the thought he’d either let out a long sigh or he was at a loss as to what to say, and was about to give up and turn around. “Can I come in?” he asked so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him. “I’d like to talk to you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to get lost. But these days I didn’t run from uncomfortable situations quite so much. I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be sleeping anymore tonight, thinking about the coming conversation I needed to have with him. We may as well get it over with. I shrugged, as nonchalantly as possible, and sighed. “Sure.” I stood and slid the window shut, hoping he couldn’t see the tremor in my hands from where he was.
I pulled on a lightweight cardigan, and swapped my sleep shorts for some khaki cargo ones that were draped over the chair in my room. I pit-stopped in the bathroom and pulled my hair out of its braid, letting it drape over one shoulder. Then I glared at myself with disgust and hastily scraped it back into an ugly, messy bun. What was wrong with me? I stomped downstairs and went to the entry hall. Taking a deep calming breath and flicking the hall light on, I opened the front door.