Page 27 of Betting Blind
“You were close?” A rush of wind blows my hair forward, and I curl it back around my ear. His dark brows are drawn in tight, and my hand twitches with the urge to reach out and smooth them.
He sighs, shifting around, deciding how much he’s willing to share. When he does finally speak, it’s to the space above us instead of directly to me. “Ben wasn’t as close with him as I was, but besides my brother, he was the only friend I had.”
He mirrors me, lying on his side with his head propped up on one hand as we speak. I make a conscious effort to keep my mind clear when his free hand finds the tips of my fingers resting on the blanket between us. He absently traces each finger with his own, and my heartbeat quickens with each simple touch.
His eyes become tormented, almost haunted in the pale light. “He unknowingly saved us from continuing to live a life that makes hell look like paradise. But I was never able to repay his kindness because shortly after we left him, he had a heart attack and passed away.”
His hand stills on top of mine for a brief moment. “There were so many things I wanted to thank him for, but I never got the chance. Ben was champing at the bit, trying to get us out and into a life we weren’t ready for.” He grimaces. “And I still blame him for it.”
I can’t imagine how long Jack has held this grudge against his brother, but even through the pain of this, and Ben skipping out on him lately, Jack still looks out for the man.
“Why were you taken from your parents?” I’m taking a risk by asking, but I hope he’ll learn to trust me the same way I’m starting to trust him.
“Because they were coked-out nobodies who had no business having kids in the first place. Unfortunately, Ben has a better memory of it all, but what I can remember are the parties and late-night meetings with dangerous people who I would never allow into my home, let alone anywhere near my children.
“Eventually, I broke down. Ben made me swear I would never tell anyone, but I went behind his back and told someone anyway, and it only escalated from there. I think he was afraid we would be separated if anyone ever found out what was going on, and to him, living through hell was better than living without me—but I was six years old, for Christ’s sake.” He shakes his head, breaking away from my gaze. “To make a long story short, Grampa was as shocked as we were to learn he had two grandsons, and despite not being prepared to keep us, that’s exactly what he did.”
My face must portray my confusion because he elaborates. “Our dad disassociated himself from him, so he had no idea we were ever born.”
I can’t imagine a younger version of Jack and Ben going through something so traumatic, but it does shine some light on why Jack is so guarded and pent-up most days. “Jack, I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
He motions to the tattoo on my arm with a nod of his head. “How did you deal?”
I glance down at the thin lines making up the permanent arrangement. I stare at the daffodil that represents my father and smile sadly. “I didn’t know him long enough. Like you, I have a few memories, but the ones I have are so faded with time, I can’t believe they ever actually happened. I know that he loved to take me to the park, and Momma says that was something we did together often.” I turn my face upward, wishing for the sun for a moment, and I smile fondly. “I think of sunshine and the color yellow when he crosses my mind.”
“I know that isn’t very helpful, but I do know how you feel.” I place my hand over his heart, and it thumps steadily beneath my palm. “The ache is always there.”
Jack places his hand over mine, rubbing it gently. By admitting my heartache, I’ve given him a safe place to rest his own, and I don’t want anything to force him to retreat. I count his heartbeats to keep myself from falling into him, but the tenderness in his gaze slowly gives way to a desire that damn near melts my panties off.
His breath fans lightly across my face when he leans into me.
Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me.
My head is swimming with the sensations of the world around us. The sounds of late-night critters have grown louder, the blankets against my skin are rough where they touch, and my abdomen clenches with nervous butterflies.
“It drives me crazy when you do that.” He traces the outline of my jaw with his thumb, stopping where my lower lip should be.
I release it from the grip of my teeth and mutter an apology, but he places his hand on my lower back, bringing my body close enough that it molds against his front. The bed of the truck creaks lightly as he brings his lips close enough to brush my ear and my breathing becomes erratic. “You don’t have to apologize. I like it,” he whispers.
Oh, my panties?Melted.
His strong arms roll me to my back, and I watch as his shoulders eclipse the moon above me. Every inch of my exposed skin is alive at the points our bodies connect, and a rush of heat creeps up from between my legs, spreading all the way to my scalp.
Jack’s never been so gentle with me before. He takes his time tracing every outline of my face as if committing it to memory, and the pad of his thumb begins exploring once again. It slides across my lower lip, to the curve of my nose, before finally moving over each of my brows. “I wasn’t supposed to like you,” he admits quietly, his tone soft.
My hand stills where I was gently stroking his bicep. I wish I could pretend the words don’t sting as I swallow my pride down my tightening throat. “And now?”
Jack sighs deeply, pulling away enough for me to mourn the contact. “I can’t give you what you need, Cassidy.”
I turn down to the bulge straining against his pants and raise a brow.
His chuckle rumbles against my belly. “That’s not what I mean.”
I lift a hand to touch his face, expecting him to pull away, but he surprises me by leaning into my touch. “Whatever worries you have going on up here can be put to rest. If you’re not looking for attachments, I can respect that.” His head falls to my chest, moving back and forth slowly, as if whatever excuse he is trying to forge between us is crumbling. “I’m not asking for marriage, Jack,” I tease lightly, trying to bring him back to me.
When he lifts his head, I’m met with arctic eyes at war with a mixture of emotions. He blinks a few times before giving in and gifting me a wide smile. I don’t get a chance to tell him how much I wish he would let go and just trust me as he shifts his weight directly between my legs, and I forget about anything else other than what’s happening right here and right now.
A tiny red light blinks in the chaos of my subconscious. I should stop this until I know why he’s keeping himself so guarded, but my brain takes a backseat to my body as it moves of its own accord beneath him. Jack matches every move expertly, and I wrap my arms up over the broad expanse of his rib cage to bring him even closer. I marvel at the flames he stokes from within me. I haven’t had many boyfriends in the past because dating hasn’t ever been a priority for me. I’ve had a few flings here and there, but the lack of spark and genuine connection always left me feeling hollow.
