nothing about where Jack was from. I wished I had Jazz’s fan-based insight, so I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth or ask the wrong thing.
“Well, I don’t have family here really. It was just my mother and me, anyway. I grew up in the UK until I was nine. Then moved to New York until I was done with school and moved out to L.A. to try my hand at movies. My mother moved back to England. She would kill me if I brought a trail of paparazzi to her door.”
“You don’t have an accent.” I decided to avoid asking about his mom.
“Not anymore, but I can do one if I need to.”
We got to the bedroom where Jack was clearly staying. There were huge French doors onto a Juliet balcony overlooking the view. I walked over to them, studiously avoiding the unmade king-sized bed with its white covers still pulled back and tried very hard not to think of him lying there sleeping. I wasn’t very successful and felt my cheeks flush with warmth. It was becoming a hazard. The room smelled of him already. Something indefinably male and all Jack.
I pulled my attention back outside and looked down to see the sparkling blue of a lap pool set into a stone patio below us. It wouldn’t be visible from the beach as the dunes would shield it from prying eyes. In fact, with the foliage on either side of the property lines, it was extremely private. Perfect for famous occupants. It was funny how you could live in a town like Butler Cove for years and never see these places. I heard Jack clearing his throat behind me.
“Check out this bathroom, it’s incredible.” He made for the doorway in the side wall.
“It’s the size of the bedroom!” There was a huge picture window capturing the same view and the white tub was in the middle of the room set in a sea of tumbled travertine. I looked up and saw that water fell from a faucet in the ceiling. Wow !
Suddenly, an unexpected image of Jack and I in the tub with water cascading over us flashed in my head. A bolt of pure heat lanced through me, robbing me of breath. Where had that come from? My cheeks were still burning with my reaction to his bedroom, and now this. This was way beyond feeling like a giddy groupie, and I was totally out of my depth. I had to pull myself together. I clamped my lips together and screwed my eyes closed for a moment.
“Are you ok?” I opened them at Jack’s voice and saw in the mirror he was watching my reflection with what looked like a smug grin on his face. God, he must be so over this stupid reaction from hormone-fueled teenage fans. I turned away from him without comment and didn’t realize how close he was. My arms had swung out a little away from my body and... oh the shame! I brushed against his groin. We both started.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumbled, my face puce in the reflection of the mirror. Gah.
Jack laughed. “Hey, no big deal. Although, I’m used to people buying me dinner before they cop a feel.”
“Well, technically, I did,” I shot back with a haughty tone that made Jack’s smirk break free into a bellow of laughter that had me grinning like an idiot. It was a moment of complete abandon and watching him in it was breathtaking.
His eyes opened and I dropped mine, hastily.
“Should I expect you to be doing that again, then?” he asked, still amused.
“Ha, ha,” I managed, pretending like I wasn’t moved by the situation at all.
“I mean, a guy can hope right?” He winked.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, you can hope.” God, I was embarrassed. “So the wall color in here is nice.” What?
I continued making bland statements about the house as I anxiously made my way back to the safety of anywhere but his bedroom. I basically bolted. I had almost made it down the short flight of stairs to the front door before Jack caught up with me.
“Hey, careful!” Jack’s voice reached me as I slipped on the last step in my haste and barely caught myself. “Keri Ann?” His voice morphed from amused to concerned. He quickly
“Well, I don’t have family here really. It was just my mother and me, anyway. I grew up in the UK until I was nine. Then moved to New York until I was done with school and moved out to L.A. to try my hand at movies. My mother moved back to England. She would kill me if I brought a trail of paparazzi to her door.”
“You don’t have an accent.” I decided to avoid asking about his mom.
“Not anymore, but I can do one if I need to.”
We got to the bedroom where Jack was clearly staying. There were huge French doors onto a Juliet balcony overlooking the view. I walked over to them, studiously avoiding the unmade king-sized bed with its white covers still pulled back and tried very hard not to think of him lying there sleeping. I wasn’t very successful and felt my cheeks flush with warmth. It was becoming a hazard. The room smelled of him already. Something indefinably male and all Jack.
I pulled my attention back outside and looked down to see the sparkling blue of a lap pool set into a stone patio below us. It wouldn’t be visible from the beach as the dunes would shield it from prying eyes. In fact, with the foliage on either side of the property lines, it was extremely private. Perfect for famous occupants. It was funny how you could live in a town like Butler Cove for years and never see these places. I heard Jack clearing his throat behind me.
“Check out this bathroom, it’s incredible.” He made for the doorway in the side wall.
“It’s the size of the bedroom!” There was a huge picture window capturing the same view and the white tub was in the middle of the room set in a sea of tumbled travertine. I looked up and saw that water fell from a faucet in the ceiling. Wow !
Suddenly, an unexpected image of Jack and I in the tub with water cascading over us flashed in my head. A bolt of pure heat lanced through me, robbing me of breath. Where had that come from? My cheeks were still burning with my reaction to his bedroom, and now this. This was way beyond feeling like a giddy groupie, and I was totally out of my depth. I had to pull myself together. I clamped my lips together and screwed my eyes closed for a moment.
“Are you ok?” I opened them at Jack’s voice and saw in the mirror he was watching my reflection with what looked like a smug grin on his face. God, he must be so over this stupid reaction from hormone-fueled teenage fans. I turned away from him without comment and didn’t realize how close he was. My arms had swung out a little away from my body and... oh the shame! I brushed against his groin. We both started.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumbled, my face puce in the reflection of the mirror. Gah.
Jack laughed. “Hey, no big deal. Although, I’m used to people buying me dinner before they cop a feel.”
“Well, technically, I did,” I shot back with a haughty tone that made Jack’s smirk break free into a bellow of laughter that had me grinning like an idiot. It was a moment of complete abandon and watching him in it was breathtaking.
His eyes opened and I dropped mine, hastily.
“Should I expect you to be doing that again, then?” he asked, still amused.
“Ha, ha,” I managed, pretending like I wasn’t moved by the situation at all.
“I mean, a guy can hope right?” He winked.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, you can hope.” God, I was embarrassed. “So the wall color in here is nice.” What?
I continued making bland statements about the house as I anxiously made my way back to the safety of anywhere but his bedroom. I basically bolted. I had almost made it down the short flight of stairs to the front door before Jack caught up with me.
“Hey, careful!” Jack’s voice reached me as I slipped on the last step in my haste and barely caught myself. “Keri Ann?” His voice morphed from amused to concerned. He quickly
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