

Blissful Vol. 1

Clarissa Wild

Sweet and sexy, Blissful will melt your heart

Unlucky is my middle name. My life as a singer-songwriter in a band I started with my best friend isn't getting anywhere. I'm curvy and being thin is apparently important for a musical career. When my high school sweetheart and I get married, I find him kissing my best friend. Of course I didn't put up with it.

Broken and depressed, I run away from everything I know, but even my car breaks down. Like I said... luck is not on my side.

Until I meet Jack...

Maintaining a ranch isn't easy. I've got more work than time. Spare time is a luxury I can't afford and won't give into. When I spend one moment alone with my thoughts, I'm done for. Alcohol becomes my friend, because I can't bear to feel the misery inside my heart.

I hate who I've become. Sorrow eats me up, but I won't let anyone see. I need to keep on living, keep on fighting, and do everything on my own. For her, my little angel. She's all I have left.

Until I meet Amy...

Lost in misery, love is our salvation

This is volume 1 of Blissful and contains about 22500 words.

This story contains mild sexual references. Suitable for ages 17+.

Want to get an email when my next book is released?

Sign up here to receive a free story: <http://eepurl.com/FdY71>

**Visit** Clarissa Wild's blog **for current titles.**

Published by Clarissa Wild at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Clarissa Wild

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1

Amy

There was a time when I believed in a magical and fairytale-like wedding. I imagined myself getting married in an old church decorated with roses and golden adornments with a hard-working, confident but sweet man who swept me off my feet. I remember all the times I told myself never to fall for Ronnie, my childhood friend, because he was such a pain in the ass. Always getting me in trouble for the things he did. Throwing crumpled papers at the teacher while pointing at me, stealing candy from a store and leaving me behind to take the blame, pulling my hair to impress his friends. The way he mimicked people's expressions always made me laugh, though. We could spend ages lying on the grass outside his house, drawing imaginary invisible animals in the clouds above us. I adored his attention whenever we were alone, passing me his cupcake for lunch because he knew I loved them so. He made me smile when he said the music I made with my piano was beautiful. It was my little secret that Ronnie Keston was actually a sweet boy on the inside. After the dozen attempts he made to woo me when I was fifteen, I finally gave in.

And here I am, eight years later, wishing I ignored his teases and flirts.

The soundless breaking of my heart overshadows the screams inside. I watch in horror at the scene before me. I can only see parts of their body, but I know it's them. His short black hair and sleek posture I recognize from far away, as I know it's her just by seeing her long brown hair tucked tightly into a twisted bun. Both of them crushed my heart. Ronnie Keston is kissing my best friend Nicole Perelli.

My eyes widen as I stare at the two making out like rabid hyenas. It's only for a few seconds, but time feels infinite at this moment. Ronnie gropes her ass, and she frowns. She pulls back and covers her mouth with her fingers, her pupils dilating. Her hand comes up and leaves a mark on his askew face, the sound of the slap reverberating in my ears. My body is shaking and I place my hand on the door to steady myself. As the door opens farther, the creaks give away my presence.

In a blink of a second, Nicole sets her eyes on me. At first she's confused, casting her eyes rapidly from me to him. Then misery sets in.

My mouth drops open. Ronnie's head turns around, and when he looks at me all I see is fire. The blazing passion he once shared only with me.

I gasp. Words cannot describe this expanding chasm in my chest, tearing my past, present and future to shreds.

"Amy..." Nicole says with a soft voice.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them away. My throat is dry, and I swallow before I speak. "On our wedding day?"

Ronnie turns around completely and raises his brows, pretending not to know what he's done wrong. "Shit," is all that comes from his mouth.

I stomp forward on my high white heels, holding my heavy gown up so it doesn't scrape the floor. Ronnie steps in front of Nicole and blocks the way, protecting her from my wrath. She pushes him aside and holds up her hands when I reach both of them.

"How could you?" I scream.

"I'm sorry, Amy, I—"

"No. I don't want to hear it." I turn around and direct my attention to Ronnie. He is the one instigating this all. I knew it from the moment I lay my eyes on them. He is always the one starting these short lived affairs.

I've had enough of it.

I smack my bundle of flowers against his chest. "You cheating bastard!" I scream.

"Amy, wait," Nicole says. She grabs my arm, but I jerk it loose.

"I'm sorry, Amy. Christ. I didn't mean to," Ronnie says.

"How the fuck could you not mean it? You kissed my best friend. On my fucking wedding day!" I push him, and he stumbles to the side, catching himself on a table standing near the window.

"It just happened," he stammers.

"Just happened my ass." I slap him across the face, and he winces.

Biting his lip, he says, "Fucking hell, Amy. I didn't deserve that. It was just a kiss, one time only. I'm confused, messed up, and I just needed to know for sure that I wanted this."

"Wanted what? Don't pretend this is the first time you ruined our relationship." I glower at him.

"I'm not. This marriage thing is just scaring the shit out of me. Seeing you, in that dress, scares the shit out of me."

"Why? Because I'm fat?"

"No, of course not." He rolls his eyes as if it somehow makes this acceptable. As if he never thought I was fat. As if he never said those words to me.

"It's just this wedding. The permanent thing about it."

I snort. "Then why don't we just cancel the whole thing?" I jerk the ring off my finger and throw it on the floor.

"Amy..." Nicole mutters, but I ignore her.

"Here," I say. "Now you can go ahead and slobber over any chick you like. I won't be a part of your dirty tricks anymore. You lie to me, you treat me like crap, and you act as if it's okay to kiss other girls. I'm done with you, Ronnie. I've had enough of your bullshit!" I shove him out of the ground floor window, together with what remains of my pride.

"You should've known better! You should've known every fucking time!" I yell.

He lands in a bush, his face covered in red marks from the needles on the plants. The sight of him in pain is of little consolation to me.

I jerk the crown out of my blonde hair and throw it on the floor. Turning around, I watch Nicole stammer, unable to say anything. There's nothing to say. My own eyes saw what happened. There is no explanation that could soothe my aching heart.

I sniff and march out the door, slamming it behind me.

All the people in the church are turned around, gawking me. I feel naked and bruised. The way they look at me makes me feel like a freak show, but I won't cry. Not this time.

I rush out the big wooden door and bolt down the steps. I hear the doors creak open behind me. Somebody probably followed me, wondering where I'm going, wondering what happened. I don't want to speak. I don't want to be the one telling them they came for nothing. I don't want to realize my life as I knew it is now over.

I run to the street in my humongous white laced dress and hold up my hand to signal a taxi. When one stops, the taxi driver asks me if I need help, but I just open the door, step inside, and tell him to drive.

I gaze out the window, in shock. I can't believe what I'm doing, but I know I must. I have to stop enabling him. I have to stop being the victim of his ever changing whims. I need to fight for myself. Fight for my dignity and heart.

I sigh and purse my lips, knowing that I look like a sulking child, holding back the tears. My eyes follow the church as the car drives away. As it disappears from my view, I think about all the crappy things Ronnie's done to me, just so I won't tell the driver to turn around.

How he always teased me for being overweight. How he never stood up for me in front of a crowd. How he always wanted to impress his friends, even if it meant belittling me. That he never supported my musical career and my band that I'd created together with Nicole. That he was never there for me when I needed him the most. That he just kissed my best friend.

I hate him.

Blowing out some steam, I realize I want to say goodbye to it all.

I roll down the window and jerk the ring off my finger. Then I throw it out into the gutter, just like my love for him.

When we arrive at my place, I pay the driver, and he drives off as if it was the most normal thing in the world. As if he didn't just drop off a bride after a failed wedding.

I shake my head from the stupidity and incredibility of it all. Walking up the stairs to my apartment building has never been more straining, but now I'm more than glad I kept this place for myself to return to.

The farther away I get from the church and Ronnie, the more I think about my life and what I'm doing. What do I want? I don't know what I want. All I know is that I don't want to marry Ronnie anymore.

Just thinking about him makes me want to punch a hole in the wall.

I go up to my room and flick on the light while closing the door. Darkness and silence is waiting for me there, and they're creeping under my skin. The crawling feeling makes me queasy.

I sit down on my bed and throw my keys on the table. I bend over and look at the floor, trying to get some blood to flow to my brain.

Then a scream comes out.

It's not a normal scream. This is hollow and sounds more like a howl. It's as if someone has broken my body into tiny little pieces and that I'm falling apart at the seams.

Tears stream down my face, and I squeal in agony, the sound coming from my deepest core. I never knew I had it in me to cry so hard. Of course, I cried before. I whimpered and sulked whenever they laughed at me because of my weight, or when they told me I'd never succeed as a singer. That I was too fat for the big stage.

But nothing compares to this emptiness.

The only support I had, Nicole and Ronnie, was just ripped away. All my life I believed I would be okay, that I could keep it together, but now I can't. The only thing I can do is blubber and wail.

I come up for a breath and notice a photo of Ronnie and me standing on my cabinet. Wincing, I grab it and take a good look. His face gives me annoying goose bumps. Looking at him makes me want to vomit.

I hurl the photograph across the room and it shatters against the door.

How could they do this to me? How could they betray me like this? After all I've been through? I deserve more than this.

I take a deep breath and stand up. I walk to a mirror and look at myself. My face is slathered with mascara, my once beautiful dress smeared with dirt, and my hair looks like one giant spider's nest.

I don't deserve this. I tell myself again and again, staring into my own eyes.

I should've never have settled for this. What was I thinking when I thought of having him for a husband? We don't have a relationship based on trust. The only reason we stay together is because that is all we know. We are both afraid to stop, even though it's clear as hell Ronnie desires someone else. Multiple times.

I don't care that he's still at the church, having to explain everything to the people there. It only makes me smile thinking he gets all the shit now. And I don't want to think about Nicole right now... she is my partner in crime. Our band duo is supposed to grow big. Well, I don't give two shits about that anymore. Maybe I'll just go solo.

I kick off my shoes and take off the dress in a fit of rage, almost tearing it apart. The corset coming loose sets my lungs free, and I gasp for air. Never do my eyes leave the mirror's reflection, always gazing at my body, confronting myself with reality. This is who I am. Fat, unloved, ditched, and a failure, but it's still me. It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right. It doesn't define my worth. It doesn't mean that I'm less than anyone else. It disgusts me that I lower myself to these standards of having to be thin and successful because of what people say. I can't believe they made me think that I am all they told me. That I could ever believe Ronnie is sweet and that he is right. That he is all I deserve or that he is the only fish in the sea.

Well not anymore.

I want to be more than what they think I am. What Ronnie thinks I am. I will show them and him that I can be more than that. And he will goddamn miss it!

I snort and put on some sweatpants and a casual top. I snatch everything in my closet and stack it together, and then grab a suitcase to stash it all inside. I sit my big butt on top and close off the overflowing rim. Lucky my fat butt is useful for some stuff. I smirk to myself, thinking of all the reasons why I shouldn't ever think of returning here. With my head raised high I say goodbye to my apartment and stride out the door with my suitcase by my side as my only friend.

Chapter 2

Amy

I've been on the road for days now. My shabby car is rattling, but it still manages to drive somehow. I feel lucky I still kept this old thing. That was one thing I did right. Never say goodbye to your old shit if your new shit is unreliable, or in other words, Ronnie.

I smirk and turn on the radio. The country songs keep me company and drown out the noise in my head. I've been pretending since I left; pretending that I don't feel anything. I just don't want to fall apart right now. I need to get away from my old life, leave everything behind, and get my mind straight. I know it's a long shot, but I'd be so happy if I could feel absolutely nothing, if only just for a little while.

I peer out the window and enjoy the scenery. Endless patches of wheat, grass, untilled soil, and barely sprouted seeds cover the land, stretching to the horizon. Some grassland has livestock grazing on it, like cows and sheep. I wonder where the heck I am, because I've not watched the map in hours. There isn't a house in sight. Not that it matters. The constant driving keeps my heart still, so that's what I'll do.

Maybe I'll just drive to the other end of the world. If that's what it takes to feel happy again.

Suddenly the car starts sputtering, and I hear bangs coming from the back of the vehicle. Oh, no, please don't quit on me. Not now.

The car shakes, and the more I press the gas, the less the car drives forward. Shit, shit, shit!

I can hear the pebbles bounce up against the metal, and the tires that work their hardest to roll over the road. The car moves forward painfully slow, and after a while it comes to a full stop.

I sigh. Why does this always happen to me?

I step out of the car and slam the door shut. Walking to the front, I can already smell a distinct odor. I open the hood and hold my breath when the stench meets my nose. Pinching my nostrils together, I wave away the smoke coming from the engine. I don't know a thing about cars, but I can tell that is not a good sign.

The setting sun is too bright, so I place my hand on my forehead to block out the light. Peering inside the mechanical parts of the car, I check if everything is still in place.

As if I have any clue what I'm doing.

I roll my eyes and shut the hood again. This car isn't going anywhere like this. The only thing left to do now is call for help.

After wiping the sweat off my forehead, I sit down in the driver's seat and take my cell phone from my bag. The screen is blank. Are you kidding me? The battery has to die on me now?

I let out an annoyed moan and throw my cell phone to the passenger's seat.

Seriously, this can't get any worse. It just can't.

I'm so goddamn tired of all this misfortune or whatever I should to call it. I drop my head on the steering wheel. Of course I didn't miss the horn, which blares loudly into the distance. Well, it's not as if it's going to bother anyone, seeing as I'm the only friggin' person around.

I bump my head into the horn a couple more times and then let it rest on the steering wheel. My eyes are getting watery, and I sniff. Luck is not my middle name. My head feels heavy and my breath is slow. I feel so tired. Even the loud country music can barely make me feel alive. Somehow, tears make their way down my cheeks, even though I never gave them permission to run freely. I can't stop them now. They just keep coming.

Then I hear something tap on my window.

I jolt up in my seat and gape outside. At first all I see is muscle. Pure muscle. Raw and visible through the thin fabric covering it up. I blink a couple of times and gasp. There's a hand knocking on my window. Am I dreaming?

He bends over and suddenly there's a face attached to that delicious body. And oh my god, it's the kind of face that makes my heart stop. Tanned skin, chiseled jaw, fine creases showing a bit of worry on his forehead. His dark eyes and thick lashes are hidden behind a curtain of brown hair. But I can tell those dreamy brown eyes are staring into mine.

A smile appears on his face, one that makes my belly flutter. "Need some help?" His voice is soft but low, and it makes me quiver.

And then I realize I've been gaping at him all this time, saying nothing, doing nothing.

I panic and use my sleeve to wipe my muggy face. Smiling, I say, "Yeah" quite loudly, hoping he can hear it through the window. I open the door, and he moves back a little, making room for me to step out. When I'm face to face with him, I can barely look at him. He's just that handsome.

My eyes dwindle back and forth from his face to the road ahead, because I'm too shy to keep my focus on him. I notice he isn't actually naked, even though my mind is telling me that's all I see. He's wearing some ragged jeans and a thin hem that could easily be ripped apart.

Dear god, I take back everything I said before about being unlucky.

"You okay?" he says.

My mouth drops open, but I don't know what to say. Why is he asking if I'm okay? Then I realize I was crying just now. I must look hideous.

"Ah... yeah, I'm fine," I say.

He chuckles. "Good to know, 'cause I was starting to think you're sick or something, looking at those rosy cheeks of yours."

My eyes widen. I crush my lips together. Am I blushing that much? Shit, I feel caught.

"Let me take a look at that beauty of yours," he says.

He walks toward the front of the car, and I tiptoe behind him. He opens the hood and waves away the smoke emanating from the engine. He coughs a couple of times and messes around with some cables and tubes. I don't understand what he's doing, but I'm hoping he's not breaking any more parts.

"Well... your engine looks busted. Not much I can do about it here."

"Oh..." is all I manage to say. God, I feel like a mumbling teenager. C'mon Amy, get it together!

He pokes around some more, and then shuts the hood. He sets his gorgeous eyes on me, which makes it hard for me not to break out into sweat.

"Well, I can take her up to my place; see if I have the tools to fix her. I'm not promising anything, but there's not much else to try at this point. The nearest shop is hours away."

"If you could do that, it'd be wonderful." I try to throw in a casual smile.

"Sure can." He throws me a wink that sets my heart on fire. He holds out his hand, and I take it. "Jack McCallister."

His hand is firm, and mine locks easily into his. Like the perfect fit. "Amy Brooks."

When he lets go of me it leaves a warm mark on my skin that tingles and gives me goose bumps. He walks off to his truck standing a few yards away from my car. It's loaded with buckets, sacks of grain, a shovel, and a pitchfork. He rummages through the trunk and fetches a thick chain. The sight of him turning around, walking back to me, sends chills up my spine. His stride is masculine, and his big boots catch the mud from the road. His body is rigid, strong, like a rock, unwavering. Just looking at him makes me feel grounded.

I swallow away the nerves when he comes back and wraps the chain somewhere under the front of my car.

"I'll have to tow it back to my place with my truck. Hold on a sec, I'll attach the chain," Jack says.

He runs back to his truck in a funny pace that makes me giggle. I move out of the way as he drives his truck to the front of my car. He jumps out again and attaches the chain to his truck. I watch him work from the side. After he's done, he pulls up his shirt and wipes the sweat off his forehead. I gulp, seeing the taut muscles on his back. Dear god, what I'd do to be able to touch those.

Oh, Amy, get a hold of yourself!

As he lowers his shirt, he turns around to look at me. I realize my mouth hangs open and I shut it immediately. A coy smile appears on his face. "All done. Let's go."

Jack walks to the passenger side of the truck and opens the door, and then he just stands there waiting. He looks at me with his eyebrows raised and points at the seat. "Are you getting in or should I just drop your car off here tomorrow?"

"Oh, sorry, yeah," I say, and I hurry over to him.

He's casually leaning on the door now, his fingers swaying back and forth. His dark eyes are still fixed upon me, staring me down as I get near. It's making me nervous. The closer I get, the more I get the feeling to run. The scent of hay and manly sweat passes my nose and I know it's him. It's somehow relaxing to smell and pulls me in.

I hesitate to move closer. Jack's standing right in front of me, and I need to get inside, but he's too close for comfort. So close I could almost touch him. I want to.

I gulp. I should stop thinking about these things.

I take a deep breath and pass him, sinking into the car. He smirks, shakes his head, and closes the door before running to the other side. He gets in and shuts the door with a smack. I don't think he meant it to be that rough. He seems like the type of guy to be unaware of his own strength.

Jack starts the car, and I put my seatbelt on while trying to ignore the bloated feeling I have. I don't know why I'm acting this way. I never had this with Ronnie. Sure, he was sweet and made me laugh, but this... this is way more. I don't know. Maybe I'm just lusting over this hunkalicious.

It's quiet. None of us speak. There's an awkward tension between us, which is probably my fault because I'm so damn attracted to him. Not sure if it's ever going to be the other way around with good-looking guys like him. Most men don't even glance at me when I walk past the street. Oh what the hell, I shouldn't even be thinking about this. I've got no chance with him. He's probably got a girl at home waiting for him.

"So, where were you heading?" he asks all of the sudden.

I'm caught off guard by his sudden question and have to think twice to remember the answer.

"I uh..." Not sure if I want to tell him. I'd rather forget about everything that happened, and I'm not really up to sharing my entire history with someone I just met. Besides, I don't want him to see me cry, and I know I will if I do talk. "Nowhere in particular," I say.

He snorts. "Yeah, I guess you're not getting anywhere with that busted baby."

Somehow the word 'baby' is repeated over and over in my head, as if it's the nickname he made up for me instead of my damn car.

"Lucky I passed by to help you out. Couldn't actually miss it either, with your honking. What were you trying to do? Hoping someone would hear the damsel in distress?"

My jaw drops, and I let out a half-baked laugh. "What? I was not doing that."

"Sure looked like it to me."

I roll my eyes. "I was... resting my head." Shit, why do I have to say something so stupid?

Jack laughs. "No wonder you were gaping at me. You were just tired, that's all."

My pupils dilate, and I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. "No. Can we please stop this?"

He looks my way and then gives me a poke in the arm. I'm shoved to the side by that one finger, and it hurts a little. Geez, he's strong.

"Cheer up. I'm just messing with you," he taunts.

I sigh and stare out the window. "I've had my fair share of that, thank you very much." I don't think I can do this. It's obvious. I should've seen this from the very start. Me, the fat girl, falling for the handsome rancher. Of course it's just my imagination. He's only fooling with me. Is he even going to help me get my car back into working? Or is he just making it even worse?

"I have a nice fluffy pillow in the back if you want. You can use that to rest your head instead of a steering wheel."

Damn... his jokes are infuriating. I shake my head. Just thinking about it makes me angry. I should've known all men are the same. None of them can make me happy or not feel miserable for once in my life. All they do is make fun of me.

I breathe loudly through my nose, trying to blow off some steam. "Can you please stop the car?"

Jack looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "Huh? Why?"

"Because I'm not going with you. Stop the car."

"What?" he says. "Oh, c'mon. I was only teasing you a little. Nothing harmful."

I fold my arms and continue to stare out the window. I don't want to look at him. I don't want to see the look in his face, the look I see in every one of their faces. That look. Pity. As if I'm worth less than other girls, just because I'm fat. I'm sick and tired of it. I just want to get away from everyone and leave. Jesus, why did my car have to die on me?

"Hey, I can't fix your car out here. There's no other option," he says, defeated. "Amy, you should really come with me."

"Why? A minute ago you threatened to leave me here and bring my car here in the morning."

"Because it can get quite dangerous out here at night. I don't want anyone on my land this late."

I frown and break the promise to myself that I wouldn't look at him. "Your land? You mean to say you own this whole place? All this is yours?" I point at the grass.

He nods. "I'm a rancher. Trust me; you don't want to be alone here when the sun sets completely. There are animals out there that could seriously hurt you. I don't want to see that happening." He clears his throat and focuses on the road again.

I take a deep breath and sigh, releasing the built-up stress inside me. Shivering, I pull my arms close together and rub myself.

Jack glances at me and then starts fiddling with the radiator. "Sorry, didn't realize it wasn't on. I'm usually too worked up to feel the cold." He laughs a bit.

"Yeah, I can see that," I say. "Must be hard work. Always rescuing damsels in distress." I make quotation marks with my fingers.

He looks at me with half a smile on his face and nods. "Yeah, okay. I deserved that." He jerks the steering wheel to make a turn. "Well, at least let me fix your car, all right? There's no one else nearby to do it, and the nearest shop is hours away. I'll have it fixed in no time, and you can be on your way again."

I sigh. "Fine."

"Hey... I know I'm being a jerk, but I really mean it when I say I'll help you out."

"So?" I turn my head, and he looks at me with a dirty smile that brings that fluttery feeling back into my stomach.

"Think you could be a little thankful?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I snort and shake my head. " And thanks for making fun of me. Men..."

His eyebrows rise. "Hey, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. It just looked too cute to pass up on."

His smile makes me laugh.

"Besides, it made you forget about whatever was bothering you before, didn't it?" he says.

The smile fades from my face. His words pull me back into reality. Make me remember that I was driving away from my failed wedding. From Ronnie. I don't want to think about it.

Tears sting my eyes, and I can feel the ache in my chest. My vision becomes blurry and all I see is the darkness covering my eyes. I feel abandoned and alone. The pain is sucking me into a black hole again.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head and see him, Jack, staring at me. He's carefully nudging me, as if he's trying to wake me. Was I asleep? No, I can't have been. I don't feel like I've been sleeping. I'm still tired, but I wasn't out. I was in my own head, drowning in my own sadness.

"Hey, Amy? Are you sure you're okay?" Jack says. His voice sounds like it's far away, but he's right beside me.

My lip is quivering, trying to move, but I'm unable to speak. I feel like a brick wall, frozen in time.

"Hey, snap out of it," he says.

He shakes me, and I focus on his eyes. Those beautiful dark eyes that are hiding behind those thick lashes. Inside there's a story untold. It's holding onto me. I cling to it, trying to remember that I'm still alive and breathing. It's the only thing keeping me from curling up like a ball and turning into myself for eternity.

I look around and notice his hands on me. They're warm and comforting, leaning on my shoulder, keeping me grounded. The car is stopped. I can hear the crickets buzzing in the grass around us. Only the car lights illuminate the road ahead.

Only now do I remember to breathe. Breathe, Amy, breathe, I tell myself. I close my eyes and take in oxygen like a vacuum.

"Amy, say something," Jack says, his voice wavering.

"I'm okay..." I mumble. No, I'm not okay. Physically, maybe, but I'm trying not to die inside.

"Jesus... I thought you were having some epileptic episode or something," Jack says. "You scared me there." He falls back into his seat.

"No..." I mutter. "I'm just..." the words hang in my throat. I can't get them out. I don't want to tell him how I feel. I can't tell anyone how I feel. If I do, it means it's real.

He sighs and just looks at me, his head turned to the side. "Something to do with why you're out here?"

I nod, but keep my eyes on the radiator. I don't want to look him in the eye, afraid I might spill everything. I don't want to cry anymore. I can't. If I do, I might break and fall apart. That can't happen in the middle of nowhere with a man I just met.

"Hey..." He places his hand on my shoulder again, and the warmth springs me back to life. "You don't have to tell me. It's okay. I'm sorry if I said anything that made you upset. I didn't know there was something..." He doesn't finish his sentence. It's silent for a few seconds. "Let this stranger help you out, okay? Get you something to drink and get your car fixed. It's the least I can do."

I swallow away the tears and smile at him. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

He smiles. "All right."

Jack opens the door and steps out of the car. Frowning, I look around. I thought we still had to drive, why is he getting out? It's already dark outside, but I clearly see one light burning up ahead. Then I see the house attached to the light, a few yards away. It's a large wooden home, looking like it could use a fresh coat of paint. Next to it is a huge barn, and tools are lying all over the place. We're already here?

"You gettin' out or do you want to camp out in my car?" he says, leaning over to look at me through the window.

He walks toward the house. An old man comes out the door, and Jack shakes his hand.

"Thanks for watching over her," Jack says.

"Don't mention it," the man says. Then he walks to his own truck, gets inside, and drives off.

Who was that?

I hurry out and slam the car door a little too hard maybe, because Jack turns his head to me. I walk to my own car and haul out the enormous suitcase I brought.

"Wow, you brought a suitcase that big? You must be serious on camping out here," Jack says.

"Oh, damn you and your jokes," I say, and he chuckles, amused at my troubles. Yeah, you go ahead and laugh. After you're done with my car, I'm out of here...

Walking back to the house is difficult. The ground beneath me is soggy, and my shoes sink into the mud. I tiptoe to a spot where there are some tiles.

Gazing at me, he laughs and shakes his head. "Afraid of a little dirt?"

"I'm a girl and I'm from the city. What do you expect?" I say with my brows furrowed.

"Nothing, actually." Leaning against the open door of the house, he just stands there and looks at me.

I gape at him. Did he just actually say that? "Excuse me? Are you implying something?"

He smirks. "Well you said it yourself, you're a girl from the city. Not much to expect when it comes to farm life."

He's just provoking me! Well, I can take him. "Yeah, well I think I can handle a little muck." I snort.

I jump across a pile of mud, but lose my balance on the slippery ground. My butt lands exactly in the puddle.

Jack bursts out into laughter, and it makes me furious. My outfit is ruined and now my hands, legs and butt are covered in wet sand and God knows what else is on this ground. Jack strides toward me and holds out his hand. "Does Your Highness want a hand?"

Squinting, I'm pondering whether to jerk his legs so he drops, too, but I bet I'm not strong enough to make it happen. Plus, it's rather rude, since he wants to help me. Sighing loudly, I take his hand and let him pull me up. My shoe is caught in the mud, and I stumble forward, right into his chest.

His broad arms are around me, keeping me from falling again. I look up to meet his surprised eyes. My heart makes a jump, feeling his body so close to mine. Oh, shit, this is so wrong.

I twist away from his arms and lean backward to get on my feet again. Clearing my throat, I try to make the burning feeling in my throat go away.

Jack purses his lips and frowns, looking confused. For an instance it almost looks as if he's affected by our touch, too.

Then he turns back into his playful self again. "Can't even stand on your own two feet, huh."

He wipes his muddy hands on his jeans, as if it's no big deal to make them dirty.

I roll my eyes. "Give me a break. It's dark outside, I can't see a thing, and the road here is like a sinkhole."

Jack laughs. "Can't argue with you on that. Well, better get you cleaned up." He grabs my suitcase, turns around and hauls it to the door, expecting me to follow him, I guess.

I walk after him and take a look at his house. It's quite dark inside, with only a few old lights illuminating the living room. There's a scraggy couch and an old television standing in the corner. On the floor is a red carpet that looks like it hasn't been cleaned in ages. Jack leaves my suitcase in the living room .He turns into the kitchen, which is on the other side of the house. The sink is filled with leftovers and dishes, and the table is covered in food smudges.

I wince, while Jack seems oblivious to the fact that his house looks like a mess. I would never invite someone into my house if it looked like that, but I guess he doesn't care.

He turns around and pushes a mug into my hands. "Drink up."

I glance at the coffee and back at him again. He's already sipping from his, but I'm terrified to taste it, afraid it might be full of germs.

"What?" he says. "Don't drink coffee?"

"I do," I say, and I quickly bring the mug to my lips. I don't want to be rude. I take a sip and notice it's not as a bad as I thought.

"I know how to make a good cup."

He winks and it makes me smile.

"You can take a shower if you like. Must feel crappy in those muddy clothes. Bet you've got some spares in that elephant-size luggage of yours." He takes another sip of his coffee.

"As a matter of fact I do, and yes, I'd love to."

"Hey, you can stay for dinner, if you like," he says. "If you've got nowhere else to go, I mean. Got anybody to call? Ask them to pick you up?"

I bite my lip and take my cell phone out of my bag, but then realize it was empty. What does it matter? Who in the world would I call anyway? No way in hell I'll call Ronnie, and Nicole... well, I just can't speak to her yet.

"No... not really," I mutter.

"Hmm..." Jack puts his hand behind his head and seems agitated. He sets down his mug and holds out his hand. "Hand me your keys, will you? I'll get to work on your car while you freshen up."

I hesitate for a moment and gaze at his hand. Should I? I'm in a stranger's house, drinking coffee that could be drugged for all I know, and I just agreed to take a shower in another man's home. And I've not even started on all the possibilities with my car. Maybe he'll wreck my car, steal it, or he'll try to keep me here against my will. What the hell am I doing? I don't even know where I am and I'm just blindly going after this man as if he's all I have. Should I trust him?

"What's the matter? Don't you trust me?" he says, the smile disappearing from his face.

I bite my lip.

"You know... you're a very strange girl," he says.

"Thanks," I say with furrowed brows.

"I'm the one letting you into my house. I should be the one worried."

"Why? I'm not dangerous," I say.

"Well, then why do you think I am? I'm just a rancher, doing my business, helping out strangers in need."

I swallow, not knowing what to say.

"If you think I'll pull a number on you, I won't, trust me," he continues. "I wouldn't want to steal that car if my life depended on it."

"Hey!" I put down my mug so hard it makes a thumping sound, and the coffee spills over the edge.

He holds up his hands. "Relax. Geez, you really are the sensitive one, aren't you?"

"I'm not the one throwing around remarks. I could say some things about your house, but I don't, because I have manners."

One of his eyebrows lifts up and the left corner of his lip quirks up. "Oh really? I don't mind. You can say anything you like. C'mon, tell me, what do you think of my house?"

I fold my arms. "I'm not falling for your taunts."

Jack steps closer. A little too close. He's so close I can almost feel his body. As if the heat radiating from his skin touches mine and warms me up. I hold my breath as he steps into my comfort zone. The smell of his unwashed clothes is somehow wildly attractive.

He gazes into my eyes with a daring look. "I can take it."

"Fine. Your house is a mess. Ever clean it?"

Jack squints, not moving an inch. The infinite stare between us makes me nervous. My body is gravitating toward his without my consent.

Then he bursts out into a roaring laugh. "No."

I frown, my mouth dropping open because of his blatant affirmation. "I just told you your house is dirty. And you don't care?"

"No. Why should I? Does it matter what other people think? Or does it matter more what I think and know?" Jack smirks. "Don't let things get to you that much. It's not important. It's not what makes life worth living." He holds out his hand.

"Then what makes life worth living according to you?" I say, sniggering. I fumble in my pockets and fish out my car keys.

"Making as many people as you can happy." He snatches them from my hand. "And I intend to make one stranger happy right now."

Jack turns and walks out the kitchen, leaving me breathless.

Chapter 3

Jack

She amuses me. I don't know why. She just makes me want to taunt her. Her smile is just that contagious, and it makes me want to get her to laugh. Somehow when I see it, it lights me up.

Fuck, what the hell am I thinking? I only just met her. I shouldn't be thinking about this shit. I've got more important things to do than crack up with some random stranger. A cute stranger, though.

Dang, that girl's got some issues, though. I wonder what's up with her, going all ballistic in my car like that. Jesus, the way she just froze scared the living shit out of me. My heart just stopped seeing her stone cold face blank like that, as if she saw a ghost or something. That can't have been because of what I said to her. I know I can be a douche, but not to the point where a girl looks like she almost pisses her pants.

I should've known when I saw that pouty tear-jerking face of hers that's what was waiting for me. I don't know what's bothering her so much, but I'm not too keen on finding out either. I shouldn't get involved. It's not my business, even though I offered to help her. Goddamn why did I make this promise to myself to continue Rose's legacy? With chicks like these I remember why I thought her idea of helping random people sounded incredibly stupid and dangerous. But there's something about Amy... her smile... her lips... the way she seemed so helpless, it reminds me of Rose.

Something inside me tells me I need to help Amy. As I should've helped Rose that night...

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don't you fucking think about that McCallister! Just fucking stop and get to work. Stop complaining.

I blow off some steam and kick a bucket standing next to the door.

I should just fix her car and that's that. Nothing more.

Tucking my hem back into my pants, I open the door to my truck and get inside. I step on the gas and turn the car so it's right in front of the garage, exactly the right spot for me to work on her car. I can't get it inside and there's no way in hell I'm pushing it all the way inside by myself, so this'll have to do.

I step on the brakes, stop the truck and get out again. Twirling the set of keys in my hand, I walk up to her car and unhook the chain connecting it to my truck. Turning on the light outside the garage, I point it at the car, so I can actually see something. I open the hood and check for loose valves and gauge the fluids. Nothing seems off, except for the horrible stench and this old barrel's engine. Probably the latter is causing all this trouble. It's already giving me a headache just thinking about all the replacing I have to do to get this baby running again. Busted engines aren't easily fixed. It'll be days before Ben could get me a new one at the shop, and picking it up will take hours.

Shit, there goes my plan of getting her out as soon as possible.

Fuck, what should I do? I can't keep her here. She's too much of a distraction to me, but I can't kick her out either. There's nowhere she can go at this time at night and I am not going to send her out there. Fuck. I'm fucked.

I sigh and drop my head between my shoulders. Thinking about it only makes me feel queasy. I don't want any temptation in my life, not after... I just can't handle it, but I can't let her leave without a car either. Maybe it's not that bad to have her in my house a couple of days. She could help out on the farm. If she's gonna act normal that is.

I snort and spit on the ground beside me. Whatever. I'll just have to deal with it.

Disappearing under the hood again, I make certain it's really the engine that's broken and nothing else.

"Daddy!"

My head bumps against the hood from the scare, and I let out a groan from the pain. I turn my head and see Madeline bouncing around in a puddle of water in her tiny boots. Seeing her three-year old face makes me both happy and scared.

"Daddy!"

"What are you doing here, sweetie?" I say, and I rub the painful bump on my head. "It's too dark to play outside."

"I know, but I'm not playing!" She comes closer and jerks on my leg. "Daddy, there's a lady in the shower. Who is she?"

I turn around and get to my knees. "That's Amy, Madeline. She'll be staying with us a couple of days." I grab her by the shoulders and smile to make her feel comfortable, just as Rose told me.

"Can I play with her?"

"Sure you can. Ask her. Maybe you two can become friends."

She purses her lips. "Maybe..."

I squint. "What?"

"She's strange. I said 'hi' and she was staring at me."

I try to suppress a laugh. "Sweetie, you shouldn't say that about people. Especially not to them." Although I do think she's absolutely right.

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Sometimes the truth shouldn't be said, because it can hurt the people you're talking about, Madeline. How would you feel if she said you were strange?"

Her eyebrows lower and she starts to pout. "I'm not strange!"

"I know," I say and I laugh a little.

My little angel always makes me smile, even though she's created a huge indent in my life. I can't imagine what it would be like without her. I don't even want to think of being without her. She's the only one I have left that still loves me.

"Well, you go get inside where it's warm." I kiss her on the forehead. "Play some more with your dolls. I'm sure she'll be out of the shower in no time, and then you can ask her to play with you."

I turn her around and she giggles, because I always leave my signature tickle. Running back to the door, she stops to jump up and down in a puddle two more times. I love seeing her happy. It soothes the painful gash in my heart.

***

I'm cutting up the beans, watching the sports channel in between. The shower is still running, and I wonder if spending so much time in the water is regular business to this girl. If she doesn't come out soon, she'll end up looking like my late gran.

Chortling from the images that come to mind, I take a peek at Madeline who's playing in the corner. She's pretending her dolls are marrying again, but it never ends well. They never have that happy ever after that's boasted so much in those fairy tale books I read to her at night. Sometimes she makes them fall down a ramp, or crashes the tiny doll car into a post, or worse... she pretends they drown.

Lucky she hasn't arrived at that part in her story yet.

I don't know what to do about it. I've spoken to a couple of therapists, but they all say the same thing. It's a period she has to go through in order to process what happened. Normal, they say. Normal my ass.

I clear my throat and bring the bowl of beans to the kitchen, starting up the fire. The beef steaks are already on the grill outside and I can smell them through the open window, bringing water to my mouth.

I pick up a sack of taters and grab a knife. Peeling taters isn't on my list of favorite things to do, but it has to be done. Nobody else is here to do it and I sure as hell ain't going to cook up something difficult.

The shower is finally turned off. About time. Madeline's eyes and ears perk up like a dog hearing its owners call. She's too interested in Amy, and it freaks me out. I don't want her to become attached to someone who'll leave again. And I know Amy will.

Everything's already started cooking before Miss Sensitive comes downstairs to join us in the fun. She briefly glances at me and smiles. A knot twists in my stomach, because I know I have to break the bad news to her now.

Madeline comes running to us, but I stop her. "Maddy, wait, not now sweetie. Daddy has to talk to Amy for a second, okay? She'll be with you in a moment. Go play a little more."

She sighs and pouts again, but still listens to me, thankfully. I wait until she's too far away to hear us before I start talking.

"Uh... 'bout your car."

"What about it?" Amy says, tucking her still wet hair into a bun.

"The engine's broke. Like completely busted. I'll have to replace it entirely."

She shoots me a oh-no-you-didn't look, and I back up immediately. "Hey, I'm just the messenger. And I've got worse news. Ben's shop doesn't have a spare one lying around. I'll have to call him tomorrow and make some deal to get one quicker, but it'll still take days to arrive."

"What?" she screams.

"Sorry. Didn't think it'd be this bad."

"No shit!" she yells. "Crap! I don't have anything else, Jack. My car is the only thing I have right now, and you're telling me it's too damaged to drive?" Amy starts pacing up and down the hallway. Jesus, it's just a car. Why's she so attached to that dump?

"Don't worry, I'll get it fixed in no time."

Her forehead is wrinkly from distress and her eyes flick about. I can't help but think that something is seriously wrong in her life right now, for her to act like this. As if her life depends on that car. I don't really know how to react. All I know is that I want to help her, because that's all I know. I do the only thing I know to make things better.

"Hey, I promise. I'll fix it. Stop worrying." I make promises I don't even know I can keep.

"What do I do now? I can't go home," she mutters. She rests her hand on her forehead, still pacing around.

"Guess there's nothing to do about it. If you want, you can stay here for the night. Maybe longer, depending on how much time it takes for me to repair your car."

"Stay here?" Amy repeats.

"Yeah. It's no problem. I've got a spare bed."

"What? No, no... I can't."

"Why not? You've got nowhere else to go, right? No one else to pick you up?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, what do you suggest then? Would you rather sleep outside?" I say.

"Of course not."

"Guess it's decided then."

Madeline suddenly comes running into the kitchen again. "Daddy, are you done yet?"

Amy's caught off guard and I see it as the perfect opportunity. Maybe spending some time with my Madeline can calm her down. She has that effect on people, or at least on me.

Amy turns to me to say something, but has no time to speak because Madeline is jerking her arm.

"Come play with me!" Madeline says.

"Uh..." Amy stammers.

Madeline pulls her arm, dragging her to her corner. Amy looks at me, desperation crossing her face. It makes me laugh. Poor thing. Probably not used to having kids around. Well, I don't blame her. I never expected to have one myself at my twenty-five years of age. Let alone having to raise her by myself.

"Go on," I say to the both of them. "I'll call when dinner's ready."

Madeline grabs her least favorite doll and presses it firmly into Amy's hand, pulling her down to the floor. I chuckle as I watch the two play together. Madeline never shares her dolls, so it surprises me she gives one of them away. To a stranger, no less. It's as if she already trusts Amy, even though she just said she was weird. That girl never ceases to amaze me.

I go outside and check on the beef, which seems grilled enough to be taken off. Medium is better than well done. I like my beef juicy, not as a shoe sole.

Back inside, I clean the table. The beans and taters are done too and I take them off the gas. "Dinner's ready!"

I put the pans and plates on the table and wait until both of them get here before I sit down. I stare at the decked out table and am reminded of all the times I wasn't the one cooking. I hope I've learned enough the past year to make up for it.

Madeline jumps on her seat at the corner of the table, clattering her fork and knife against each other while Amy takes a seat opposite of me. She's quiet, distant, looking away. I wonder if she's just shy and feels embarrassed to eat in front of strangers. Or maybe there's something more.

"Guests first," I say, and I hand Amy the spoon for the beans.

She hesitates to scoop up some food, as if she's afraid I've put something nasty in it. She glances at me and I know she sees I'm watching her. She quickly puts a tiny amount on her plate and hands the spoon back to me. I frown, trying to understand what's going on inside that head of hers. I could ask, but that would be rude, and I'm sure Miss Sensitive will make dinner very unpleasant if I do.

After all of us have our plates full, she's still tossing her beans as if she's bored.

I swallow a few beans. "What's the matter?" I ask.

She looks up at me and a cute flush appears on her cheeks. "I'm... just not that hungry."

I started cutting my beef steak, but the gurgling sounds coming from where she's seated make me stop. Her stomach's growling.

"Oh, really?" I say, unable to withhold a stupid smile from creeping up on my face. She's hungry, or at least her stomach is. Why isn't she eating? "Give it a try. It's not going to bite you."

My persistent gaze drives her to pick up a single bean with her fork. Her shaking hands bring it to her mouth and she starts chewing it very carefully. I wait and see until she reacts. I'd like to know if my cooking is on par with her standards.

She makes an approving hum. "Did you make this all by yourself? It's delicious!"

I smile. "Yep. Prepared by the infamous Jack 'of all trades' McCallister."

She bursts out into laughter. "Jack of all trades?"

"Uh-huh. There ain't nothin' this guy can't do, Miss." I pass her a wink, and she chuckles loudly.

"Yeah, right. I'll need to see that for myself," she says.

"All right. I'll show ya. Tomorrow."

One of her eyebrows rises. "And why would I find that interesting? I've got better things to do."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like getting my car fixed for starters." She waves her fork in the air as if it's a wand.

"That's part of my trade. I promise I'll fix your car. Just sit back and hold tight."

"What am I supposed to do in the mean time?"

"Help out on the farm."

Her fork drops onto the table. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious all right."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? Is there something wrong with your legs or arms? Last I checked you weren't in a wheel chair, unless you magically conjured one up with that wizard-like fork flick you do while I wasn't looking."

She gazes at me with a furious look on her face, but I find it amusing. Highly amusing. Her reaction to everything I say makes me want to taunt her even more. It's just too appealing not to. I just want to see that annoyed face over and over again. It makes me laugh and forget all the shit I'm confronted with daily.

"Daddy, look!" Madeline holds up her plate, letting the food almost slip off. I push it up, to prevent the table from getting messy again. Cleaning up is not my favorite thing to do. Madeline made a smiley face with her beans and taters.

"Maddy, your food is for eating, not for playing." I drag the plate down to the table.

"It's for you, daddy!" She pushes the plate to me.

"No, Madeline. Finish your plate."

"Smile, daddy. You need to be happy." The smile on her face goes from ear to ear.

I can't help but laugh. She's just too darn cute. "I am happy, Maddy. Now, go on, have a bite." I nudge her fork into her hands and stick it in a bean, hoping she'll follow up. I need to concentrate for a moment, so I can have this conversation with my troublesome guest.

"I'm giving you a place to stay and I'll fix your car. The least you can do is help out a little. I could use the help."

Amy is looking at Madeline and she seems to enjoy my little girl's mischief, seeing her radiating face. She sighs when she realizes I'm talking to her. "Fine. But don't expect me to roll around in the mud, because I'm absolutely not getting dirty."

There she goes again; making those remarks that make me itch to snap back. "Dang, I was just about to ask you to give my pigs a bath."

She winces, and I laugh. "I'm kidding, Amy. I don't even have pigs."

She takes a breath, visibly relieved.

Getting her to do something is apparently freaking her out. Maybe I should try another way. "You know what? Never mind. I shouldn't have asked you. Like you said, city girls aren't really useful on a farm."

"Excuse me? I can be useful when I want to." She starts cutting up her beef as if there's no tomorrow.

"Like with what?"

She cocks her head. "I can do... loads of stuff."

My laugh sounds more like a groan. "I bet you can't do half the stuff I ask you to."

"Oh, you're so dead wrong."

"Prove it." It's working. She's gonna work for me on her own decision. Wonderful. Folding my arms, I lean back in my chair, chewing on a piece of beef.

"Fine. I will. Tomorrow," she says, taking a huge bite out of her beef.

"Deal!" Gotya.

Chapter 4

Amy

I don't want to admit it, but all I want to do is look at him. Find every possible excuse I have to just take a peek. I don't know why. I'm still recovering from my horrendous breakup with Ronnie, and now I'm already crushing on a rancher I've yet to get to know better. I can't believe what I'm doing.

I shake my head while closing the door to my room. It smells musty in here, and the dark green curtains make the room look shady. Is this the guestroom? I grab my phone and charger and plug it in, secretly hoping no one has called while my cell was dead. I don't think I can talk to anyone I know yet.

Checking out the room, I let my hand slide along the sheets and feel the bed dent under my touch. So much for a good night sleep. Oh well, can't complain either. I'm in a stranger's home, and Jack's been sweet to offer me all this help. I've never met anyone like him before. It's as if he doesn't mind at all. Strange, but at the same time it almost makes me envious of his carefree spirit.

Just thinking about him makes me smile.

No, I shouldn't. I just came out of a rough relationship, I can't just go ahead and jump into a new one. If my heart breaks again, I would just shrivel up and die. Besides, no way Jack would ever fall for me. He's sweet, kind, funny, hard-working and oh my god handsome. What do I have? Nothing, except my curvy bum, but not all men find that attractive. I doubt he's the kind that does.

Sighing, I take off my clothes and crawl underneath the blanket. It's warm and fuzzy, so I close my eyes to try and catch some sleep. I need energy to get through the day tomorrow. Prodding my pillow, I try to find a cozy spot, but I keep twisting and turning around. One hour passes. I should really get some sleep. Two hours pass. Nice and comfortable, sleepy sleep. It's already way past midnight.

Yeah, no, it ain't happening.

Again.

I twiddle my thumbs and open my eyes. Staring at the ceiling, I count the dots in the paint, desperate not to think. It's already too late. Images of Ronnie kissing Nicole cross my mind and lock themselves in front of my eyes like photographs. All I see is them making out. Squeezing shut my eyes, I pray to God to make them disappear. Please, make them disappear. I can't take this. I can't think about them.

Tears sting my eyes, and I know I can't stop it now. Sniffing, my face becomes moist. I can taste my own saltiness as I roll around to the side. My stomach growls, and I begin to feel queasy. Everyone I know and ever cared about leaves me or hurts me. I feel worthless.

I curl up into a ball and pull up the blankets, trying to warm myself up. It's so damn cold in here, but I don't want to just go and turn up the heater, that'd be rude. Oh, what I'd give to be held again. To have someone to warm me up, to embrace me and tell me everything's going to be okay.

But it's not. I'm alone and miserable.

I can't stop myself from crying and sniveling. I hope Jack can't hear it, because I know I'm making noise. The more I try to close off from my feelings, the more I feel, and it's tearing me apart.

I rip the sheets off and sit straight in bed. I sniff and wipe the wetness from my cheeks. Sitting up makes me feel like crap, but lying down makes me feel worse. Hairs stick to my face, so I brush them away. I feel dirty and know I look like hell, but I go out the door anyway. I need something to calm down.

I softly close the door behind me and see a light flickering down the hall. I walk to the living room and see Jack lying on the couch. He's cradling Madeline in one arm, his lips on her forehead. His other hand is hanging down the couch while holding a framed picture of a woman.

They look adorable together, and watching them makes my heartache a little less painful. They look so peaceful, I don't want to disturb them.

I tiptoe back to the kitchen and open the fridge to see if there's anything inside that can soothe my cravings. It's either hugs or a big piece of chocolate I need. Love, food; I exchange one for another quite frequently. Whatever's available.

Sadly, he doesn't have anything good. If I discount the veggies, countless meat packages and wrapped leftovers, all that's left is a carton of milk and a bottle of coke. Guess the coke will have to do.

I would normally never be like this, but I can't help myself. I need something in my stomach to silence the voices in my head. Eating and drinking always eases me.

Pulling open the cabinet above the sink, I grab a glass. Suddenly a crackling sound startles me. The bottle of coke drops from my hands and lands on the floor. The carbon dioxide instantly starts to sizzle on the top layer. Shit. If I open it now it'll rain coke. There goes my plan. What the hell was that noise anyway?

I close the door of the fridge, and then Jack's right in front of my face. I let out a short squeal, but Jack's hand moves quickly on top of my mouth. Oh. My. God. His hand is on my mouth. I can feel him. My lip starts quivering. My tongue is going in overdrive in my mouth. Only a tiny fraction of me can stop myself from trying to kiss his fingers.

His other hand moves to his own lips and he makes a shushing sound, then he releases me. Damn.

"She's still asleep," he whispers.

"Sorry. What was that?"

"Dropped something," Jack says.

He frowns, the corners of his lips pointing down. By the look on his face I can tell it's bad. Actually, he looks depressed. He probably broke the frame he was holding.

Jack picks up the bottle of coke from the floor and sets it down on the counter. "That coke's going to take a while to fizzle down."

His eyes scan my face, up and down, left and right, as if he's trying to figure something out. He's so close now, if I hold out my arms I could wrap them around him. I gasp when his finger reaches up impulsively and brushes along my cheek. I shiver from his touch. Gently, he wipes away a wet strand of hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear.

I'm mortified and stunned. On the inside I'm set ablaze.

Then I realize I was crying like a baby ten minutes ago. My face must be bloated and red. In an instant I feel ashamed, and I turn around to face the sink, so I can bury my face between my hands. Leaning on the counter, I say, "Yeah" to quell the silence between us.

He leans against the fridge, trying to peek underneath the curtain of hair falling across my face. He smiles when he sees me glance at him, and it makes me laugh. The way he tries to make contact with me gives me a momentary sense of peace, even if it only lasts for a few seconds.

"Tell you what, let me make you something," he says.

Jack pushes himself off the fridge and opens it. He grabs the carton of milk and walks to the stove.

"You don't have to," I mutter.

Jack grabs a pan and pours in some milk before turning on the gas. He adds some cinnamon and lets the milk heat up. "Yeah, I do. You look miserable."

My face turns rigid and suddenly feels cold. Three times crap. He noticed.

I turn to try and sneak away from this embarrassing scene. Suddenly I feel his hand clutch my arm. "Ah, don't go," he says. I turn around and he slowly lets go. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so upfront. Haven't been around a woman for a while, takes some time to get used to that kind of... well you get the picture."

"You think I'm whiny."

Jack purses his lips. "No, I did not say that."

"It's okay. I know it's true. I'm whiny, self-absorbed, a bitch and fat." My own words are repetitions mulling in my head. These words don't stem from me. I've heard them all my life, people shouting the most hurtful things at me, and I've always remembered it. I lodged them into my brain, and they've grown into the only truth I know.

"Hey." Jack squeezes my wrist and tilts his head, peering into my eyes, peeling away the layers of my soul. I don't know what it is with him. He just has this effect on me that breaks my defense. As if he's gazing into the depths of me, grasping a hold of me, tearing down the walls enclosing my heart.

"Don't you ever say that about yourself again."

"Why? You don't know me."

"Because it's not true, and you know that. I know you're not. I've known you long enough to know all of that is not true. I don't need more than a couple of hours to conclude that. I've seen it peep in from time to time, especially when you were playing with Madeline. I know there's some good inside that soul of yours. Maybe it's not coming out right now, but it sure is in there." He presses his finger onto my sternum, and I can feel the heat being forced into my body. As if he's reaching straight for my heart.

When his finger disappears from my chest the emptiness that takes its place is engulfing.

"Still leaves the fat part," I mutter.

"Who told you that?" he says, his voice increasingly irritated.

I snort. "My... ex."

He shakes his head and frowns. "What a dipshit."

Chortling, I say, "Agreed."

He grabs my upper arm, and his eyes connect with mine again. My body gravitates toward his, an invisible string pulling me closer.

"Listen to me. Whatever happened to you that got you so depressed, I know he's not worth the tears. A man who says that kind of crap to his girlfriend is an idiot. You're not fat. I don't know what kind of assholes you have in the city, but us country folk do know the difference between fat and normal. And trust me, you are not fat, Amy. I've seen real big women before. Hell we've got a whole town of them hours away, and you pale in comparison. You're beautiful."

His words astonish me. I'm completely baffled. Nailed to the floor, I stare at him and his amazing lips that just blurted out those words. It meant probably nothing and totally everything at the same time. But it makes me feel better than ever before.

His cheeks redden and he crushes his lips, his eyes flicking all over the place. He clears his throat and turns to stir the milk.

Something inside me is igniting. Jack's presence is drawing me in. Jokes aside, he seems more and more like a man I admire instead of dislike. The more I see of him, the more I want. I need to see more. Just a glimpse is all that it takes to give my heart that spark it needs to light up again.

"Thanks," I stammer. "I appreciate you trying to cheer me up."

"No need to thank me. I'm only saying the truth."

There he goes again, making my breath falter and my heart jittery.

Turning off the gas, he takes the pan off the stove and grabs a mug from the cabinet. Jack pours the milk into the mug and sets the pan back down. He holds up the mug and looks at me, convincing me to take it. When I reach for it, his fingers gently brush mine. I flush, taking the mug to my lips, seeing him smile.

"Good, isn't it?" he says.

I nod and sip some more. God, this tastes good.

"It's a sure way to doze off," he says.

"Do this often?" I ask.

He nods. "Madeline has nightmares, and I always make her warm milk to calm her down and get her to sleep again."

Jack yawns and stretches his arms. A glimpse of his trained abdomen is visible, and I gulp. What I'd do to get my hands on that.

He winces. "God, that couch is killing my back."

"Don't tell me you always sleep on there."

"No, not always. Just often."

"Why? You have a bed, right?"

"I have trouble sleeping. Usually watch some television. When Maddy wakes up she doesn't want me to leave, so I let her sleep with me on the couch. Beats having to get up fifteen times a night."

Him, trouble sleeping? He doesn't strike me as the tired type. But it was darn cute to see him like that.

"Anyway, enough talking about me. You should catch some sleep," Jack says.

"What about you?"

He shrugs. "I'll manage."

Or in other words, he'll just stay awake and do what? Nothing?

I put the mug down and turn to walk out the kitchen, but he walks after me. He nudges the hot mug against my skin. "Take it up to your room. It's okay." His wink makes me feel weak in the knees.

"Thanks. Goodnight," I say, and I clench it tight while walking up the stairs.

He watches me go up. His gaze is still on me, following me into the room. There's a perpetual smile on his face. I wave, and he waves back, then I close the door behind me. Leaning against it, I let out a huge sigh, and a smile creeps onto my face. I can't stop smiling, not even when I'm trying to drink. Whatever this is, I don't want it to stop.

Chapter 5

Jack

She really lit up when I called her beautiful. I can't believe I actually said that. I feel like a stupid, clumsy jock again, stuttering in front of the high school beauty. Well, I did mean it when I said Amy was beautiful. I don't understand why she thinks she's not pretty. Most girls here would say she's thin, maybe curvy, but not fat. Must be some city-girl problem or something.

Scratching my head, I take a deep breath and sigh. I can't stop looking at her, even when she's already gone from sight. The way she smiles makes me feel alive again, and all I want is to see that smile. Again and again. Her laugh drowns the memories I have, soothing the pain a little.

But I know I can't see her smile forever. She'll leave eventually. I can't let it happen. I can't bear to lose another. It'll kill me before my time. I don't want to take that chance.

Shaking my head, I turn and walk to the kitchen. What am I doing? I shouldn't be thinking about this. I don't have time for any of this bullshit. This never ending job doesn't make room for anything else than work. As if I would need it.

I don't need it. I don't need anyone. Only Maddy.

Besides, it wouldn't be good for her. She's already lost someone, and I can't bear to see her lose anyone else. I don't want her to get attached to someone who'll be ripped away from her any moment. She can't handle that. She's too young to understand anyway. Nope, not a good thing. Definitely not.

I walk to the living room and look at sweet little Madeline, curled up into a blanket I placed over her. Looking at her fades out the voices in my head, but the cracked picture lying on the floor brings them back.

Picking it up, I swipe away the broken glass and look at the beautiful woman staring back at me. What I'd give to touch her for real. To hold her with my own hands. Not like this. This cold, static image of hers is empty and hollow. Just like my heart.

Fuck me. I need something to drink.

I sigh again and go to the kitchen. Putting the picture down on the kitchen counter, I open the highest hanging cabinet, where I stash the pain relievers. The only thing I know to do when I feel like shit.

I snatch out a can of beer and take off the lid. It's midnight, but I don't care. I need a drink, now.

I put the can to my lips and let beer flow into my mouth. It prickles my taste buds and sets my throat on fire when I swallow. The sting is a welcome distraction. I'd do anything to forget. Just forget. Make everything go away.

I take another sip, and the alcohol runs over my lips. Drops fall onto the floor, but I don't care. I need to empty this can as quickly as possible, so I can get rid of it. Nobody needs to know about this. It's nothing shameful, but I can't have them ask me questions. I don't have any answers. Or at least I'm afraid to admit them. Saying what goes on in my mind makes it real and those horrifying things should've never have been true.

Fuck this. Fuck it all. I hate this.

My fingers instinctively cramp up. The can is squeezed together and the beer pours out. With my teeth clenched, I slam the can into the floor. My body is overflowing with emotions I can't place. Emotions I don't even remember not having. Rage, bitterness, sorrow, all together. It's too much.

"Fuck!" I hiss.

Suddenly a shuffling sound comes from the living room, and I freeze. My daughter's staring at me. "Daddy?" she says.

She comes closer, her eyes still partially closed. The blanket is wrapped tightly around her, and it makes her look like a butterfly trapped in its cocoon. She almost trips over a piece that managed to slip under her feet, but I catch her in time.

"Be careful," I say, and I put her on her feet again.

"You smell funny," she says, and she sniffs.

"Daddy's just tired. Makes him smell bad."

She laughs and hugs me. Her warm tiny hands are pulling my hair, but I like it.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" She's probably peeking over my shoulder, and now I know she's seen the mess I made.

"Nothing, sweetie. I just dropped something. Don't worry, I'll clean it up later." I kiss her on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed."

I pick her up and carry her to her room upstairs. When I lower her again, I notice she's already fallen asleep on my shoulder. I place her down in her bed and pull up the covers. Smiling, I tuck a strand of her loose hair behind her ear and caress her cheek. My little angel. She's all I have, and she saves me from the misery I put myself through time and time again.

***

The first thing I do in the morning is call Ben and ask him for a new engine.

"Sure, Jack, but it'll take a few days."

"Can't you get it sooner?"

Ben sighs. "Well... I could get them to deliver earlier, but it'll be expensive."

"Ah, do me a favor, will ya? I'll repay you, I promise."

"Fine. I'll pull some strings. The earliest I can have it is tomorrow at noon."

"Perfect," I say.

"But you owe me one, big time."

"I know. Thanks, bud."

I put down the phone again. Amy appears out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me.

"And, and?" she says, her voice cheerily.

"Tomorrow. Noon."

She gasps and claps her hands together. "Oh, wonderful. Thank you!"

She leans forward, and then I feel her lips against my cheek. I turn frozen solid and my eyes dart her way. She withdraws again and she blinks a couple of times. Immediately, she pulls back and gazes at me as if she doesn't know what she's doing.

I can still feel her wet lips on my skin. The warm mark they left is searing into my cheek, and it creates goose bumps on places I don't remember feeling anything. My cock stirs in my pants, but I will it down.

Stop it. She's just a girl you're helping. This is not going anywhere. She's not...

"Sorry," she mutters, and she quickly turns around and bolts to the kitchen, as if she realizes what she did was...

I stand there still in place, unable to breathe for a second or two. I don't know what the fuck to do anymore. Not with her, not with myself.

After a while I find my way to the kitchen and see her decking the table. There's a whole buffet spread out on the table. Buns, toast, peanut butter, jelly, bacon, boiled and baked eggs, and even pancakes.

My eyes widen. "Did you make all this?"

"Pancakes! Pancakes!" Maddy yells. She's already in her seat, ramming her fork and knife against the table.

"Stop making so much noise, Madeline," I say to her, grabbing them from her hands and putting them neatly on the table again.

Amy pulls a chair back. "I wanted to make up for yesterday. Do something nice."

"Wow," I say, and she chuckles. She points at the chair, and I sit down while she scoots my chair forward.

"I thought, with you working so hard to get my car fixed, I should do something in return. I didn't really know what else to do, and I'm rather useless on a farm. But this I can do."

I stare at all the deliciousness in front of me, watering my mouth. Damn, and I thought I was a good cook. Nothing compares to this.

Amy grabs some of everything and stacks my plate to the rim.

"Wow, hold on, my stomach ain't that big."

She giggles. "But you should try everything." She sits down next to me and picks up my fork, pricking a piece of bacon with it. "Take a bite."

She pokes my lips with the fork, and I open my mouth. It's delicious, just like I expected it to be after looking at it. Damn... I wish someone would cook for me like that every day.

A humming noise of delight escapes my mouth, and she chuckles.

"See? Told you. Good, huh?"

"For a girl who complains a lot, you sure make amazing breakfast."

Her broad smile also puts one on my face, and the three of us enjoy a wonderful morning meal.

We spend the rest of the day on the ranch, feeding the animals, cutting the grass, watering the trenches, cleaning the stables. Most of the time Amy just hands me the tools, but when I finally have enough, I hand her a shovel and ask her to make a pile of the hay. I have to get it all out so I can scrub the floors. That shit really needed cleaning. Lucky Amy's here to help me out. I help fix her car; this is her favor in return. Mutual interest, I'd say.

She's moping less, though, which is a big plus. I guess she realized it wasn't getting her anywhere. Her phone buzzes, and she stops working to check it. She's leaning against the open door of the stables, probably reading a text message. Her gloomy face worries me.

She sniffs, and her body starts shaking. Oh shit. This doesn't look good. She squints, her lips quivering and moving down. Oh, please, no. Don't start crying, please, don't cry.

Her eyes are getting watery, and before I know it she runs out the stable.

"Amy!" I holler, but she doesn't stop.

I go after her. I need to know what's bothering her so much that she's crying all the time. I can't let someone around me be so sad. It hurts me, too.

She's clenching a fence somewhere up ahead, her blonde hair whisking in the wind. She looks stunning. The breeze makes her whimpers almost inaudible. Almost. My heart aches just from hearing it. I don't want to see her sad.

I walk toward her, but find her cell phone a few feet away from her. I pick it up and hesitate, but I can't stop myself from glancing shortly.

' _I'm sorry, Amy. I shouldn't have kissed her. Please, tell me this isn't the end. XOXO, Ronnie.'_

So she has a boyfriend. Or had? I don't know. Shit. I shouldn't have looked at this. Fuck, what am I doing? Amy's crying, and now I know why. I should get over there and comfort her.

I don't wait another second and walk up to her. She's clenching the fence tight, as if it's the last thing she has to hold on to. I can her hear snivel, trying to hold back the tears. Oh, Amy...

I stand next to her and gaze at the field. It's quiet for some time. I don't know what to do. I'm not good with this. If I were, I'd know how to comfort myself, but I don't.

"Want to talk about it?" I say after a while.

She shakes her head, but then another whimpering session begins. I rub over her shoulder and try to soothe her as much as I can.

"My ex. He kissed her. My best friend," she suddenly says.

Okay, so she shakes her head, yet still talks? I swear I don't get girls at all.

"On my wedding day!" she yells.

Oh. That's fucking bad. Like hellish. "Shit..." is all I say. What else am I supposed to say? She's bawling her eyes out, and it's all because of that fucking jerk. All I can think of is wanting to crack him open and spit him out, spew shit about him, and swear as if there's no tomorrow, but I can't do that. It's her ex. She's crying over him, so that means she still cares about him. If I'd call him all sorts of things I'm sure she'll be angry with me instead of him.

"Yes, he's a fucking bastard!" she yells. "You cheating asshole!" she screams, leaning over the fence as if she's hoping the words will cross the land and find their way to his ears.

Then she turns around and buries her head in my chest.

My body freezes. I gasp, pondering what to do. She's crying against me, making my shirt wet, and I all I can think of is wanting her closer. Damn, Jack, when did you turn into such a sissy?

She wraps her arms around my neck, howling swear words while sobbing. Oh, I give up. I put my arms around her and pull her closer. She needs this. She needs me. I'm not sure what I want or need, but I have to be here for her. She can use me to cry onto. She can shout at me, beat me up, and crash into me. If it stops her from feeling sad, I'll do anything. I can't bear to hear her cry. Not another soul.

My hand brushes back and forth over her back. I try to calm her down by shushing and rocking sideways. She's still crying, but it's slowly lessening.

Suddenly I feel something clench my leg and squeeze in between us.

Amy lets go of me and peers down between our legs. Madeline pushed her way through and is now hugging Amy's leg.

"Don't cry, Amy," she says.

Amy wipes the tears from her cheeks and pats Madeline on the head. We look at each other, momentarily. She doesn't need to say anything to let me know she's thankful that I was here when she needed someone.

Madeline quickly runs off, cramming herself through the fence, and into the field. We watch her dart around, picking flowers as she goes. She comes back and holds them up to Amy.

"For you."

A smile slowly creeps onto Amy's face. She gets on her knees, ignoring the fact that her jeans get dirty, and takes the flowers from Madeline. "Aw. They're lovely." She leans closer and beckons Madeline to lean closer too. "Thank you very much, Madeline."

"You're welcome!" Maddy giggles and runs off to chase the birds that are eating the leftover grain.

Amy watches Madeline before standing up again. Her eyes are still red and swollen, but her depressed face is gone. I can see she's already falling in love with my sweet Maddy, just like everyone else who meets her. I chuckle. Of course she is.

"What?" she says.

"Oh, nothing."

She gives me a quick jab against the shoulder, and makes me step back. This girl's got some punch in her. Didn't expect that. I didn't expect her to get over her sadness so quickly, either. It's admirable. I guess in that way she's stronger than me.

She looks at me, stares at me even, and I feel embarrassed. Her perpetual gaze is petrifying me. I know she can see it. See underneath all of the layers, all of the jokes that I hide behind. It's as if she's peering into my soul, gazing at all the destruction I've done. Gazing at the ruin that is my life.

A chill crawls under my skin. I don't want her or anyone else to look at me like that, as if they can see all the hurt. As if they think they can do something about it. I don't want anyone delving up my screwed up history. There's no reason and no way in hell I'm going to let that happen. Unveiling what I've tried to bury for so long will kill me.

I clear my throat. "Let's get back to work, if you're ready."

Chapter 6

Amy

We're in his truck, and I'm sitting in the passenger's seat. I can't help glance at him. My eyes zoom in on all the little details. His long brown hair caressing his cheeks. His unshaven stubble. The way his lips move as he chews on a straw. His hand that moves the clutch, wishing it was touching me.

Dear god, Amy, get a hold of yourself. For God sakes, you're almost drooling.

I close my eyes and shake my head, but it's no use. My eyes force themselves open. From the corner of my eye I see him watching me, and my stomach churns. I can't get him out of my mind. The way our fingers touched when he handed me the mug last night, oh my. Heating up more and more, I gaze outside, trying to ignore the voice in my head telling me I want more of him.

He was so sweet yesterday, the way he comforted me after I was bawling my eyes out. I must've looked ridiculous. All because of a text message. I just let myself lose it. Lose to the tears. Gosh, I'm such an idiot.

No more. I can't cry anymore. I won't. Ronnie doesn't deserve it. Just as Jack said, he's not worth it.

I feel something tap my right shoulder, and I turn around. There's nothing, even though I'm sure I felt something. Madeline starts giggling profusely, and when I turn around, she has her little hands on her mouth.

The little rascal.

Squinting, I say, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she says with weird intonation.

I turn around again after flashing her a wicked grin, which only makes her giggle more. She taps me again, this time on my other shoulder. Humming, I reach for the back and tickle her. She screams from laughter and wriggles around on the couch, making me laugh.

"Stop!" she exclaims in between laughing.

"You give up? Quit tapping my shoulder?"

"Yes!"

I chuckle and stop tickling her. She manages to get up from the couch and sit back on her bum again. I turn back around and see Jack looking at me with his totally cute smile.

"What?" I say.

"Nothing," he says.

I sigh. "God, you country folk sure have a lot to say."

"Nope." The left corner of his lip quirk up into smile, and I can't help but smile back at him. He just does that to me. When I look at him, he makes me happy. It's as though there's nothing wrong in my life and everything's fine. He makes me forget all the pain. Makes me fall in love with him.

No, no, no, no, this can't happen! I can't fall in love with a rancher. He's too busy, has a kid and probably a dozen other things I've yet to find out, while I'm trying to make a career in the big city. This is never going to work. What am I doing? Why would he even be interested in me?

I stare out the window the rest of the ride and wait until we've reached the village Jack was talking about. Anything to get my mind off this. It takes a few hours to reach and it doesn't even look like a village. I think there are about five shops in total; one supermarket, one general shop, a diner, Ben's car business, and a bar. At least, that's all I can see. A church is in the middle, there's a public garden with a fountain, and houses in all sorts of colors everywhere. It's like a classic cowboy movie set, only this time it's real.

"This is it?" I say.

"Yep," Jack says, and he gets out of the truck. He opens the door for Madeline to jump out and waits for me. As I get out, I'm surprised the road is paved here.

"Hold my hand, Maddy," Jack says. He clutches her little hand tightly and leans slightly askew in order to walk with her. He's that careful with her. It's amazing to look at and gives me goose bumps.

I walk up to them and stay on Jack's side, as we go to Ben's shop.

"Wait!" Madeline says, and she comes to a halt. "You need to hold hands, too." She points at me.

I flush and look at her, then at jack, then back at her. "What?"

He smiles and holds out his hand.

"C'mon!" Madeline yells, stomping her feet. "We all need to hold hands."

"Better do it quick, or we'll be here all day. Maddy will make sure of that," Jack says with a wink.

I roll my eyes sideways and grasp for Jack's fingers. My heart beats in my throat as I lace my fingers through his. Oh, shit. What am I doing? Am I really doing this? He's warm and strong, and his hand completely encompasses mine. Fire burns inside my body as he clutches me tightly. He's holding me. I can feel his pulse through my skin, his sweaty palms leaving their mark on me. God, I don't want this to end.

Looking up at him, I see him smile an awkward smile, and I feel so embarrassed. I'm sure I'm as red as a beet.

"Yay!" she squeals.

Jerking Jacks hand, Madeline drags us forward. We walk together across the street, and I can see the people around us staring. I know they're watching us, probably thinking 'who is that girl?' I swallow away the lump in my throat as we enter the shop. Jack lets go of me, so he can fit through. It feels empty without his fingers tangled through mine.

The shop is only partially a shop. Half of it is a garage filled with tools, a car, pieces of car, and more stuff I can't place. I have no idea how this works, but I'm hoping Jack knows what he's doing.

The bell jingles, and a man steps out of his garage and into the shop.

"Hello there," he says, his thick gray beard moving along with his almost invisible lips.

"Uncle Benny!" Maddy yells, and she runs to him and jumps into his arms. The man chortles and hugs her tight while she twirls her finger through his bristly hair.

"Hey there, kiddo," he says to her, and he nuzzles her before putting her down on the floor again.

"Uncle?" I say.

"He's not actually her uncle, she just calls him that. It's complicated," Jack says while chewing his straw.

"I've known that little squirt since she was born," Ben says.

Jack steps forward. "Hey Ben," Jack says.

They shake hands, and Jack takes the piece of straw from his mouth.

Ben's bushy brows lower. "You're lucky. If you'd been thirty minutes earlier, it wouldn't be here yet."

Jack peeks over his shoulder. "Oh, really? So you have it?"

"Sure do." The man lets out a roaring laugh.

"Awesome."

I walk farther, but stay behind Jack, because I don't want to intrude on their conversation. Ben glances at me and then whispers to Jack, but I can still hear him. "Who's that beauty over there? Your new gal?"

My cheeks grow red again, and I try to hide my face in my coat.

"What? No, that's Amy. Her car broke down, so now I'm fixing it," Jack stutters. The way he instantly denies any existence of a crush makes me feel icy cold.

Ben laughs again, looking at me. "Ahhh. You're playing the good Samaritan again. I can see Rose's ideas still have a hold on you."

Jack sighs. "Ben..."

He chuckles and pats Jack on the shoulder. "I'm just messing with ya, kid. Aren't you gonna introduce me?"

Jack turns around and looks at me. I can see his cheeks are rosy. He holds out his hand and beckons me to step forward, and I do. His hand slides along my back as he pulls me closer. His touch feels like heaven.

"Meet Amy," he says, and focuses on Ben again.

Ben gives me his hand and says, "Ben Jones. Pleasure to meet ya."

"Amy Brooks. Likewise."

"So... ready to check out the beauty?" Ben says to Jack.

"What?" I stammer.

"The engine," Jack says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh."

Jack turns to Madeline who was playing with a plastic wrapper, and he picks her up from the floor. "Stay here, Maddy. Don't go anywhere and don't touch anything," Jack says, and he sits her down on a tiny table filled with toys. "Daddy will be right back."

She continues playing as if she never stopped.

"Want to come look?" Jack says. "I mean, it's for your car after all."

"Well... I have no clue what you guys are doing or what you're talking about, so it's not of much use. I'd only be in the way."

Jack shrugs. "Suit yourself." He walks off into the garage with Ben.

I watch them talk and laugh, checking out the engine as if it's some sort of intricate designer thing. I don't care, as long as he gets my car running again I'm happy.

I stroll around the store and pick up random things I find, checking to see if I can identify what they are. It's like a fantasy land to me, only one that's very uninteresting, dull and greasy. I grab a screwdriver, but it's so heavy I immediately put it down again. I fumble with some more junk, something that blows out cold air, and I read all the packaging on the bottles. I have no clue what the hell they say. Whatever.

Playing with Maddy is probably more exciting than this.

When I turn around I bump into Jack's chest.

Oh, my god. My face is on his chest. His broad, muscular chest. And I can hear his heart through his shirt. It's beating faster and faster.

I raise my head, and his smoldering eyes find mine. They mesmerize me so much I'm numb and speechless.

"Ready to go?" he says.

I nod, my mouth still open.

He laughs and turns around, leaving me standing there alone. It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath, before I go after him. He's making Madeline say goodbye to the toys on the table, but she doesn't like it. Her pouty lip and frown say she doesn't want to leave.

"We'll visit Uncle Ben again soon. I promise."

Damn, he sure says that a lot. Promises, promises.

"We're done here already?" I ask.

"Yeah. Ben's putting the engine in the back of my truck as we speak."

"Wonderful. Thank you."

Jack smiles and picks up crying Madeline. Walking after him, I feel my phone buzz, and I take it out of my pocket. We're out on the street, but I'm not paying attention. Nicole texted me that she's sorry and that she wants to talk, and I'm typing up a message.

"Look out!" Jack yells.

Without a warning his hand is clutching my chest, shoving me back up the curb. I don't see it coming. My body is pushed back, and my fingers can't hold onto the cell phone anymore. It drops down and into a gutter. I squeal.

Car tires screech, and a car shoots by us. Jack throws some curse words into the distance, but both of us know the driver is long gone.

"My phone!" I scream.

I get to my knees and overcome my fear for dirt. Prying my fingers through the bar, I try to fish up my phone, but I have no luck. It's slipping farther and farther away, until I can no longer reach it. Then it disappears from sight.

Jack leans closer, but after throwing me a quick glance, he stands up again. He holds out his hand for me, and I take it. "Fuck!"

"I'm sorry, Amy. That asshole was coming so close I had to get you to safety."

I sniff, saying goodbyes to my phone in my head. I was just texting back Nicole. Now I can't even contact her anymore. Shit. I broke up with my boyfriend, cancelled a marriage, left my home, traveled too far to recognize anything, my car is busted, and now my phone is gone, too. Can it get any worse?

He sighs, his head between his shoulders, as if he's regretting what he did.

"Thanks," I say, to make him feel better. He saved me after all. I don't want him to feel like shit, even if I do. It's not his fault. I should've paid attention.

"Hey, you'll get a new phone eventually. It's only stuff. Stuff you can replace. You're still alive. Unscathed. That's more important," Jack says.

"Yeah, I know," I say.

Meanwhile, Madeline is bawling her eyes out. She's sitting on the curb, probably scared to death by what happened. Jack gets to his knees and grabs her tiny hands. "Hey, hey, don't cry. It's okay. Look at me." He peers underneath her fuzzy hair. "Tell you what. Let's go get some ice cream. Would you like that? Want some ice cream, huh?"

Her face instantly lights up, and the tears disappear as if they were never there. It makes me chuckle a bit. Children are so easily distracted. I wish it worked that way with adults, too.

Jack picks her up and checks the street thoroughly before putting down another foot.

"Wanna come?" Jack says to me.

"I guess."

"Ice cream will make you feel better. It always does."

"True. And otherwise I'll have to wait until you guys finish it anyway, so we can go back. It's not as if I have any other way out of here. Need my personal chauffeur to drive me back safely."

He laughs. "You've learned to retort quite fast these last couple of days."

"I'm learning from the master," I say with a smirk on my face, which makes him laugh even more.

We stop at the supermarket, and Jack points out a couple of ice creams, which I grab. After paying, I help Madeline unwrap hers, and she runs off to the car while Jack and I stroll right behind her.

I glance at him, but burst out into laughter when I see his face. There's a huge white blob of cream right on his cheek.

He's blinking, his brows furrowed. "What?"

I gasp. "Don't tell me you don't feel that."

"Feel what?"

I chuckle, grab his arm, and stop walking for a second. My fingers move on their own. My hand lifts up to his face and carefully wipes away the ice cream. I can feel his stubble underneath the pad of my finger. I don't want to take my fingers off anymore, but I do because I must. Otherwise it looks weird and inappropriate.

I put my finger into my mouth and quickly lick off the ice cream before cleaning my finger on my skirt.

Jack gazes at me, his lips parted, forgetting the ice cream in his hand. I check his face for more, but it's flawless. Perfect. Too perfect. Damn.

He just keeps staring at me, completely frozen.

"What?" I say, embarrassed. "You had ice cream on your face." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Ah... nothing," he stutters. His lips are pursed and his eyes are jittery. Did I do something wrong?

I feel really embarrassed now.

"Let's get back to the car," I say, in an attempt to diverge the conversation.

"Ah... yeah, I guess," he mutters.

We walk back to the car in silence. He eats his ice cream pretty quickly, but I don't dare touch mine. Every time his eyes are on me I feel as if I'm being watched. As if with each lick I take off the ice cream, he glances at me. I feel dirty.

Well, the ice cream was good for something. Madeline's not crying anymore, that's a plus. And it made me forget about the phone. Temporarily. I cringe.

Oh well, at least I'm away from all the drama now. Being here with Jack has renewed my energy, and I feel a lot less depressed, too. I don't know if that's because of the ice cream, or because of Jack.

Chapter 7

Jack

Fuck, she just ate the ice cream off my face. When she put her finger into her mouth, I swear I could feel it in my cock. It was almost as if she was licking me. Goddamnit, why do I have all these fantasies? I can't get my mind off her. I love to see her flaunt her ass as she walks away, makes me want to grab it, and when she bites her lip all I want to do is kiss her.

Damn you, Jack! What the fuck is wrong with you? You've got Madeline to take care of, there's no time to screw. Besides, Rose would never...

I swallow as the car comes to a halt near my house. It's just my cock playing with my head. It's been so long since I was with a woman; all I can think about is wanting to touch her. But that's not real. It's not something to build on. It's not what I need. Is it?

She shuts the door and gets Madeline out of the car, while I take a breather. Shit, my cock is still twitching from the mere thought of her. How does she do this to me?

It doesn't matter. Fixing her car is the only thing that needs to be done. Soon she'll be gone, and then I can get back to work as usual. Everything will be normal again. As normal as possible.

"If you fix my car, I'll make dinner, 'kay?" she says, and she waves before going inside. I just sit there, waving back, like an idiot. Goddamn, I am an idiot.

I get out of the car and slam the door behind me. I hate this. I hate not knowing what to do. I hate knowing what I want is impossible. That it will fail, no matter how hard I'd try. I feel like an animal and it's making me pissed. All I can think about is having her, feeling her, holding her, pumping into her. It's as if my cock is the boss of me.

But I don't want to be like this. I can't just have sex. That's not how it works. Especially not with women. And especially not with one who just got her heart smashed into bits.

They want love. They want a relationship. And before you know it you're stuck for life. I don't think I can make that commitment. At least not now. It's too soon...

I haul the engine off the truck and get to work. It's the only thing I can do to get my mind straight.

***

I'm lying under the car, checking if there are any loose bits I need to fix and seeing if there's any residue or liquids. Pondering about her has slowed down my progress, though. I've been at it for hours getting this thing running again, and all I can think about is Amy.

Her radiating eyes. Her full lips. Her curves. Her smile. Oh, the way she smiles.

Shit, there I go again. My mind's completely wandering off from time to time. Fuck, I feel like a love struck fool. Wait. Who am I kidding? This ain't love. I'm only just getting to know her. I need to know her better before there's any love. And that's not going to happen any time soon. Within a day she'll be gone and then there's no more temptation.

Temptation... hmm... my hands on her firm breasts while I suckle on her ear.

Stop it! Stop it, Jack! Goddammit, fuck you. Fuck my fucking cock.

Sighing, I plug in the wires I pulled out.

She doesn't need this right now. She deserves better than your fucking sex drive, Jack. She needs a man who can take care of her. Who'll treat her right and love her. Some would say that could be me, but I know for sure I can't. Not after what I've been through. I'm too damaged to love someone. Can't love a girl when you can't even love yourself.

But I can't stop thinking about wanting to make her happy. Make her feel appreciated, wanted. Make her want me. God, I want her.

Why? I've never fallen for a girl this easy. This has got to be my libido. It can't be that I'm already ready for someone new. No, I can't. It's not right. What would Rose think of me? I'm such a bastard.

My hand curls up into a fist, and I stomp it on the floor beneath me. Fuck me.

Thank god I'm done with this piece of shit. I can't bear another minute of useless daydreaming.

I roll up from under the car without looking. When I gaze up, all I see is panties. Short, thin, panties. Panties?

Then I notice the skirt that's around it and the legs underneath. Shit. Fuck!

"Jack!" she screams. She steps back and crosses her legs, pressing them together.

My face heats up as if there's a fire nearby, and I clamber up from the floor. She turns around, shaking her head, her eyes widened. I hold up my hand in an attempt to calm her down.

"I'm sorry, Amy," I stammer, wiping my dirty hands on my jeans.

"You looked under my skirt!" she squeals.

"Yes, and I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there. I was just getting done with your car." That woman scares me some time. She really sneaked up on me, and now I have to deal with her anger. Damn it...

"You didn't know I was there? Bullshit."

"It's the truth," I say, frowning. Why is she making such a fuss about it? It's only panties. Although... panties. Hmm... Pussy.

"I bet you thought you could make nice use of the situation."

I shake my head when she speaks again, momentarily fazed by my own lusty thoughts.

"What?"

"Oh look, there's Amy, let's make her feel embarrassed by looking under her skirt." She walks to the front door, but I go after her in my dirty boots.

"Wait," I say.

"You're just messing with me, Jack McCallister. I know your kind. Take a peek and then make fun of me, like they always do."

That's it. I've had enough of this crap. I grab her wrist and twist her around. "That is not true."

"Oh, really?" she says, obviously not believing me.

I come closer and gaze into her eye. "Yes, really. Look at me." She avoids my eyes, staring at the floor with a pissed look on her face.

"C'mon, Amy. Look at me." She briefly glances at me, but somehow that brief glance sticks. "You see this?" I say, pointing at my eye. "Can you see I'm telling you the truth? These aren't the eyes of a liar, and you know it. Tell me what you see."

She snorts and turns her face away. I come even closer, placing my hand on the wall beside her. Damn this girl and her infuriating behavior. Why does she have to piss me off every time? Again and again, she taunts me. It's as if she gets off on it or something. She keeps luring out the bad in me and I can't hold it back.

"I'm sorry, all right? It just happened. It wasn't intentional."

She sighs, not saying anything, but at least she looks at me again. Her eyes are full of hurt. I didn't do it to her, but she sure thinks I did. She really is insecure. I wish she wasn't and that she knew how beautiful she was. I wish she'd believe me.

My finger goes up without me thinking about it. A strand of her hair caught my eye as I was admiring her face. I brush it aside, careful not to touch her skin too much. I don't want to upset her, but I can't help caress her cheek.

She looks so pretty. So vulnerable. Constantly pulling away, telling herself she's not worth anything. I can see it in her eyes. She avoids the truth, because she doesn't believe in it instead of facing it, no matter how scary it is.

She's not alone. I'm scared, too. Afraid what I want, what I desire, will kill me.

But I need it.

I put my hand on her shoulder. I lean closer and closer to her. Her flowery perfume is tantalizing, drawing me in. I want her. I need her to love me. For at least someone to love me. Love me as only a lover can.

My mouth is almost on hers and I can imagine tasting her sweet lips. How I want those sweet lips to touch mine. To release me of my fears, if only for a little while. She closes her eyes and I can hear she hold her breath. She's waiting for me to kiss her.

But I can't. I can't do this. Not like this. It's so wrong. I can't do this to Madeline and certainly not to Rose.

I draw back and look at her. She opens her eyes after a while, probably wondering where my lips are. My brows are furrowed from confusion, but it makes her face contort. Shit. Now she's even angrier.

"Let go of me," she hisses.

She jerks herself loose and pushes me aside with her body. "I was going to say that dinner's ready, but whatever. I don't care anymore," she says.

I step back and watch her leave again. Shit. I'm such a fucking douche bag.

Clenching my teeth together, I bellow and kick a bag of hay standing against the wall. Fuck me and my issues. I can't handle this shit. I don't know what the fuck to do with myself nor her. I wish I knew. I wish I could give her what she wants, wish I could give myself what I want, but my worries won't leave me alone. Forgetting is the hardest thing to do.

***

Madeline is playing with her toy airplanes, swooshing them through the sky and making them land on my nose. I laugh and snatch them away, playing the evil giant King Kong. After all the toys are caught, I put them on the shelf. "Time for bed," I say to her, and I pull up her covers.

"Aw... but daddy, I want to play some more."

"Tomorrow's another day to play."

"But tomorrow you'll be busy with Amy again."

Damn, why do these kids see through so much? "But she'll be leaving tomorrow, too. So don't you worry, I'll have much more time for you after she's gone. Then we'll go back to just you and me."

She frowns. "Is she really going away?"

I nod and tuck her in. "Yes, sweetie."

"But I don't want her to leave!"

"I know, sweetie, but sometimes people just have to go somewhere else. Someone is waiting for them there."

"What about us? Aren't you waiting for her, daddy?"

I chuckle. "Well, that's a bit different, Maddy."

"But you like her, right?"

I flush and smile. "Yeah, well..."

"Why can't she stay then?"

I sigh, my eyes lowering to the floor. Kids have such basic thoughts. It's both cute and admirable how easy they think about life. I wish I could still do that.

"That's not really for little girls to know. It's grown up business, Maddy. You don't have to worry about that yet."

She pouts, folding her arms together. "I'm not going to sleep if she won't stay."

I chortle. "We'll see about that. You can't stay awake forever."

She lifts her head and ignores what I say, making me laugh. Stubborn little thing. Yep, that's my kid all right.

I kiss her on the forehead and put out the light. "Goodnight, Maddy. Sweet dreams."

"Night night, Daddy," she says, as I close the door.

Damn, she's clearly getting attached to that girl. I was hoping this wouldn't happen, because it makes it all the more difficult when she leaves. Well, at least Madeline knows what she wants. Me, on the other hand... I'm a thundering mess.

Yep. Time to get a drink.

Chapter 8

Amy

I hate him. God, I hate him so much. How could he do that to me? First he looks under my skirt, and then he tries to swoon me over? I swear he was trying to kiss me. Goddammit, he didn't kiss me.

I throw the knives and forks into the water, and it splashes up into my face. The soap's splattered all over me. Great. More dirt on me. Fantastic. As if it couldn't get any worse.

Scrubbing the dishes, I can't help be callous with it. I'm pissed. Pissed at him and myself. He just keeps on sending these signals I don't understand, because he also keeps pushing me away. It's as if he's playing this game and this time I'm his target. I'm sick of being that to men. I don't want to be a prize or a catch or a laugh, I just want to be welcome. To be wanted, to be loved. That's all I need.

But Jack's not going to give that to me.

I don't know what's up with him, but he seems screwed up. Here I thought I was the one who had problems. I snort, thinking about this friction between us. It's not worth my time. I'll be gone tomorrow and that's that.

Although I have no idea what the hell to do when I'm on my own again. Where do I go? I have nobody to lean on. I don't want to go back. There's no way in hell I'll get back with Ronnie, and I don't want to see Nicole yet. It just doesn't feel right.

Guess I'll be on my own again.

Just thinking about it makes me feel depressed again.

I sigh, rubbing the plates until they're clean enough and stacking them on top of each other.

The door slams, and I know Jack's inside. His boots stomp across the floor, uncaring to the muddy boot prints he's leaving. I turn my head and briefly glance at him. Holy shit. He isn't wearing a shirt.

He kicks off his boots and runs his fingers through his wet hair. He looks beautiful, with his flexed muscles that strain with each movement. His tense abs gleam with sweat. I'm struck in awe.

I gulp and turn my head away. Don't look. Don't look. You can't handle it, Amy.

I rigorously scrub the dishes, trying to forget what I saw, but the image is lodged into my mind. I can't forget that delicious body.

"Your car's running again," he says, putting the keys on the kitchen counter. "Just ran a test drive."

I stare outside, looking at my car that's drowning in the rain. Great.

"Thanks," I say, a little too blunt.

I hear him open the fridge. I quickly take a peek and see him take out a bottle of beer. He opens it and chucks the cap in the bin. He's holding the bottle straight up to his mouth, his muscular physique makes me want to keep looking. But this isn't right. He's gulping down the beer as if there's no tomorrow. Gobbling it down until it's empty.

He lets out a huge breath and slams the bottle down on the counter. The sound makes me jolt up. Jack walks past me, I feel the breeze of his movement pass my back, and it makes me shiver. He opens the cabinet to my right, high above us, and reaches for another bottle. This time it's pure Bourbon.

I drop the dishes in the water and stop, wondering what he's going to do. My eyes widen as he opens the cap and starts gulping directly from the bottle. Gasping, I snatch the bottle from his hand.

He frowns. "Hey!"

"What is wrong with you?" I say, and I set the bottle aside.

He grunts. "Give that back."

"No. What the fuck are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious? I need a drink." He reaches for the bottle, but I tuck it farther away so he can't reach it.

"Needing a drink is something totally different from what you're doing. You're binge drinking."

"I am not."

"Yes you are."

He squints, coming closer and closer. I can almost feel his alcoholic breath on my skin. He's completely soaked from the rain, his bare chest glinting. How much constraint do I need to put myself through? God.

"So what if I am. It's my house. I'll do what I want," he says.

"I don't care. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."

"Why? You're the reason I'm drinking in the first place."

"What?" I say, my mouth dropping open.

He snorts. "Well, maybe not the only reason. But one of them."

"You can't be serious. What did I ever do to you? You wanted to help me out, fix my car, and take me in for a few days. That wasn't my idea!"

He leans closer and I draw back, afraid of what he's going to do. He places his hand gently on my cheek, caressing me. I'm stunned by his touch. He's so close now, I can almost feel the heat radiating off him.

"You did nothing. You're just being you. And it's making me crazy," he says.

Frowning, I say, "I'm making you crazy? What the hell are you—"

I can't speak. His lips are crashing into mine.

He's kissing me. Jack's kissing me. His lips are full of passion and desire. They're crushing mine. I never thought he would, that this was all a daydream, but it's real. He's really kissing me. For a moment I forget all the worry in the world. With his lips on top of mine, it feels like heaven. I don't want him to stop.

Jack clenches my face between his hands, pressing his lips on top of mine. I weave my arms around his neck and pull him closer. His hands move down my neck and wrap around my waist. He's strong and towering above me, embracing me completely. I love all of it.

His taste, his touch... they're so different from what I'm used to. From what Ronnie gave me. This is totally different. I've never felt this much excitement before, and it seems as if Jack's much more consumed with desire. As if he actually thinks I'm sexy.

I twirl my fingers through his long hair, and he moans into my mouth. His tongue finds his way inside and circles around mine, playing with me, exploring me. I need more, so much more.

It's as if he can read my mind. His fingers slip underneath my shirt, and for a moment I hold in my breath. It feels strange to have another man touch my belly, and especially since Ronnie never liked doing it.

But I overcome my insecurity when Jack's fingers slide up my ribcage. He makes groaning noises when he reaches my breasts, and I gasp. He starts kissing my neck, and I lean sideways, giving him free reign. He's kneading my breasts while kissing my collarbone. His body is pressing against mine, and I can feel the bump in his pants push against me. I tell myself I want this. I need this. I need love to overcome my sorrow, even if it's wrong. I don't care. I need love to numb the pain, so I give in to passion.

My hands slide down his pectorals, and I can feel his rock-hard abdomen. Kissing and panting, I grasp for his belt buckle and undo it.

Suddenly he releases me and pushes himself off me. I stare at him, still gasping for breath. His mouth is open, and he's breathing loudly. Jack frowns and wipes his mouth, as if he's disgusted with himself.

"I... I can't do this," he says.

Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that? How dare he?

"What?" I stammer.

He turns his head and leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, burying his face between his hands. "I can't... Amy."

"How could you?" I say, my voice crumbling.

He shakes his head and sighs loudly. "Please... don't."

"You asshole! You're messing with me, again!"

"Please... just go."

"What? You're going to kick me out?"

"Just leave me alone!" he says, partially whimpering. I can hear the crackles in his voice, but it doesn't move me. All I feel is hurt.

I grab the keys and run out the kitchen. I go upstairs, fetch all my clothes and dump them into my suitcase. Hauling it down the stairs, I fight the tears. Ignoring him completely, I step out into the rain, slamming the front door behind me. The ground is even muddier than last time, but that won't stop me. Willing away the tears, I hurry to my car and get inside. The rain is pounding onto the glass, and I struggle to fit the keys in.

The car starts, and the noise from the engine drowns out the pain in my heart. When the lights turn on, I see Jack standing there, right in front of my car. He's holding up his hands, his head lowered between his sagging shoulders. He just stands there, getting doused by the rain.

He yells something, but I can't hear him. All I see are his lips moving. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to be in pain anymore.

I turn the wheel and step on the gas so I can get the fuck out of here, but Jack runs with me and throws himself in front of my car. My heart beats in my throat. I jam the brakes as he puts his hands onto the hood. He's staring right at me, dripping water all over. He's soaked, and his arms are spread wide, ready to take the impact of a car.

I roll my eyes. Does he want me to drive over him?

Opening my door, I carefully step outside and still manage to land in a giant puddle of mud. Jack walks to my side and holds out his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Amy."

I purse my lips and feel the tears flow down my cheeks. I can't stop them anymore. Not that it matters. It's dark outside, and the rain will make it look like generic water, even though I'm bawling my eyes out right now.

"How could you say those mean things?"

He takes a step closer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm just... confused." His eyes lower to the ground. "I'm fucked up, Amy. I have a history, all right? And it's not something I like to bring up with strangers."

"What history?"

"That's not going to be of help here. I just know that I can't jump into a relationship like that. Not with Maddy, not with..." he swallows back the words he was about to say.

"Well, then I guess I should leave, right?" I open the door again, but he slams it shut, jamming his hand against it.

"No, please, don't." He comes even closer, and I take a step back. "Please don't leave."

"Why shouldn't I? You just told me you wanted me to leave you alone."

He sighs. "It's not like that. I didn't mean it like that. Please, I don't want you to leave."

"Then what do you want, exactly? Because I don't fucking understand. One moment you want to kiss me, the next you're disgusted."

"I wasn't disgusted. I never was and never will be. You're beautiful." He comes into my safe circle and places his now cold hand on my arm. "I want you."

"Then why do you back off each time? I can't take it anymore."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I can say I'm sorry before you realize that I mean it."

Now I'm the one sighing. I sniff, and I think he realizes I'm crying, because he put his other arm around me to. He pulls me into his embrace and rocks me sideways. "Oh, Amy. I'm sorry I made you cry. I should've never said those things."

"No..." I say, whimpering. "You made me feel like shit."

'I'm sorry. You're not. I want you. I need you. I'm just afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of this. Us. What it mounts up to. What it grows into. We're both in denial about what happened to us. Can't be good."

"I know." Gazing into his eyes, I see genuine hurt in them. "I'm afraid, too, but I know I want this. I don't care if we're each other's rebound or whatever."

"Tell me you won't go," Jack says, cupping my face between his fingers. "Just for a few more days. Or longer." He nuzzles me like a lover. "I want to learn not to be afraid. I want to learn to love again, but it takes time."

"How much time?"

"I don't know... But if you leave we'll never get to try. Take the chance. Besides, Maddy already misses you," he says, chuckling.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she was really angry about you leaving."

I laugh. "I've never been very good with kids, so it's funny that you mention that."

"Maybe you've just learned to like them. As I've learned to like you."

We smile at each other, and I know I don't want to go. I was actually hoping he'd come and convince me to stay. Now I know he really does feel the way I feel. If only just a little.

He presses his lips firmly onto mine, and I wrap my arms around him. He holds onto me like he never wants to let me go. I don't remember what happiness is, but this future I imagine I'll have with Jack comes close to it. I can only call it bliss.

###

End of BLISSFUL Vol. 1

Want more? Download Blissful volume 2 now!

Want to get an email when my next book is released?

Sign up here to receive a free story: <http://eepurl.com/FdY71>

**Visit** Clarissa Wild's blog **for current titles.**

About the author:

Clarissa Wild is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

Connect with Me Online!

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WildClarissa

Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/ClarissaWildAuthor>

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/clarissawild/

Google+: <https://plus.google.com/u/0/110159060064239089141/>

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Clarissawild

My blog: http://clarissawild.blogspot.com/

