The Unidentified Redhead
Page 34

I set my keys down on the table that I’d placed in the entryway, and I listened to my feet click clack on the smooth tile as I walked toward the living room.
As soon as I rounded the corner, I heard, “Surprise!” Holy shit.
“Holy shit!” I screamed, as people came pouring out of rooms, from behind couches and in from the patio.
All of my friends were there, some of Holly’s other clients, even Lane and Rebecca, and of course, the two ringleaders. Holly and Jack were standing in front of the fireplace, looking incredibly proud of themselves and smiling at me.
I approached them, pushing my way through the wall of people offering up congratulations and goodbyes. Someone put a glass of champagne in my hand, and I noticed the sign hung over the archway that said, BON VOYAGE, ASSHEAD!
Jesus.
“Nice touch with the asshead.” I smirked at Holly, knowing that was all her. She just smiled and raised her own glass to me.
“I thought you would like that.” She laughed and clinked her glass to mine.
I turned to smile at Jack but his mouth was already on his way to my neck.
He kissed me quickly, moving his lips up my ear.
“Are you surprised?” he asked, sucking my earlobe into his mouth and kissing it softly.
The butterflies were back in my tummy. I loved when he did that.
“I was surprised. This is nice,” I answered, leaning into him a little, feeling his lips as they moved down my neck and toward my collarbone.
“That’s nice, too … ” I added, my words trailing off as he reached my shoulder, kissing it lightly. His hands slipped around my waist, and he moved me in front of him, resting his chin on my shoulder.
This all took place in less than a minute, but the intimacy he showed me was al -encompassing. The sweet way he manipulated my body, the way he claimed me so publicly and so privately at the same time was endearing. I clutched his hands tighter into my tummy, hugging him to me as we stood, one behind the other.
Our relationship had blossomed so quickly, and mainly just between us, so I saw a few curious glances in our direction. Mostly, though, they were amused and kind faces smiling back at us.
Jack stayed with me as I greeted all my impromptu guests, and he was delighted to meet my friends and acquaintances. Some were new since I had moved back to L.A., and some dated back to when I was here the first time.
Nick delighted in telling the story of the first night Jack and I were together, regaling the crowd with what he had seen, as well as what he heard as he and Holly ate popcorn on the staircase like two Peeping Toms.
The night was perfect. The people I loved most surrounded me.
Everyone was so complimentary of my new home, and I showed it off like a proud mama. All the furniture had finally been delivered, and while there was still a lot to be done, it was finished enough that it had a sense of self—it felt like me. Jack was telling Nick about the closet he wanted to knock out to make room for the steam shower, and Nick pretended to look interested while he was really just staring at the pretty.
I talked to everyone, thanked them all for their well wishes for New York, and promised countless times that I would, in fact, be back.
Jack stayed with me some of the night, and some of the night he mingled.
I watched him from across the room, talking to Rebecca and Lane, and several times, he caught me staring. He would always wave, or wink, or show me his middle finger, a rather rude habit he seemed to have picked up from me.
God, I loved him.
Later in the night, Holly and I found ourselves outside as the party was beginning to wind down. They had strung up Christmas lights throughout the trees and hung Japanese lanterns so that the entire backyard was glowing. And by they, I mean the party planner Jack and Holly had hired.
We sat in the Adirondack chairs on the patio, drinking dirty martinis and toasting our own success.
“Can you believe the last party we were at, we were celebrating your new management company?” I asked, tipping my glass to her.
“Yeah, and that was the night you got asked to have a little tryst.” She smirked, draining her glass and letting out a loud burp.
“That’s true. Tryst accomplished. That was sickass, by the way.” I arched my eyebrow at her.
She let out one more burp, a smaller more dainty one this time, and then said, “Fuck off.”
I laughed loudly.
“Holly, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, really. I—”
“Save it for your Tony Awards acceptance speech, OK? I can’t handle anything like that tonight,” she snapped, her eyes shining suddenly.
I looked at my best friend, the one that would lay down in front of a bus for me, and smiled. I thought about everything we had been through and everything we would continue to share with each other.
“Olive juice, Holly,” I said, smiling at her through my own tears beginning to burn.
“Olive juice, too, ya little fruitcake.” She smiled back, grabbing the rest of my martini and polishing it off as well. She pushed out of her chair and started in for the house, then paused, shaking her ass once before heading inside.
I sat for a minute, smiling up at the stars, and then went in to say goodnight to the last few guests. Jack was waiting for me and swept me into a close hug.
“How soon do you think we can kick these stragglers out without seeming rude?” he whispered, biting down on his lower lip as I ran my hands through his thick curls.
“You want them gone, you just say the word,” I said, feeling slightly sassy from the two martinis and the champagne I had consumed. I would pay for this when I was stuck on a plane for over five hours tomorrow.
“I realize that I invited them, but I want them gone, Grace,” he stated firmly, his hands sneaking down and cupping my backside, amusement-park-style. Fuck, I loved it when he took charge.
“Done,” I answered, crashing my lips to his for a quick, but very passionate kiss.
I pulled away and began a herding motion toward the front door. The last few people there, including Holly and Nick looked at me as if I was crazy.
“Let’s go people, move it out. Have you seen this tall drink of water here?
Well, Mr. Hamilton and I are going to be going at it in about seven minutes, and unless you want to see some serious goodbye fuckin’, you’d best get to steppin’,” I instructed the group, continuing to herd them toward the front door. My friends knew better than to stay, and they laughed as they hugged and kissed me goodbye.
Nick made a point of remaining on the couch, looking pointedly at Jack as though he was going to ask to stay for a front row seat, but Jack just looked on with an amused expression at my brazen room-clearing methods.
I walked Rebecca and Lane to the door after they said goodbye to Jack.
Lane gave me a monster hug. “Thanks for having us at your little Bon Voyage party, Grace. Nice digs by the way. We’ll break this house in proper when you get back,” he said, ruffling up my hair with his giant hands.
“That’s a promise. I’m so glad you were here tonight.” I laughed, kissing him on the cheek. He blushed, and I heard him saying, “Aw man … ” as he walked out to his car. Rebecca and I watched him walk away, and then she turned to me.
“I have to tell you, even though I know Jack is going to miss the shit out of you, I think it’s awesome what you’re doing. I know you’ll do well. If I make it out to New York this fall, can I come see you?” she asked.
“Hell yes, you can! I expect a call anytime you are anywhere near the Big Apple,” I said, giving her a hug. “And Rebecca?” I continued, frowning a little.
“I’ll watch out for him. Keep the skanks away.” She laughed, reading my expression.
“Thank you. Keep them far away. I may be three-thousand miles away, but I can still kick some ass if I need to,” I stated firmly.
“I totally believe you. Good luck in Manhattan, girl,” she said, hugging me back and walking through the door.
Finally, the room was clear. I said goodbye to Nick, thanked Holly with a kiss on the cheek and a smack on the ass and a promise to keep it quiet when we got home later that night. She just smirked as she said her good nights and said that she would see me in the morning.
I walked back into the living room where Jack was sitting on one of my big fluffy couches, and I launched myself at him. He caught me midair, laughing as I pawed at his chest like a big cat.
“I got rid of them, as promised,” I chirped, settling into his lap.
“You sure did,” he agreed, kissing my forehead.
“So, now what?” I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“Well, what do you want to do?” he asked back, snuggling me closer to him.
“Uhmmm, get na**d and have sex in my new house?” I offered, looking brightly at him.
“Hell yes, let’s get after it.” He laughed, picking me up and walking me toward my bedroom.
My new bed had been delivered, but I had yet to pick out sheets or anything. Still, it would be nice to christen the new pad. Which is why I was so surprised when we walked in the room and I saw that someone, probably the Brit currently holding me and looking at me expectantly, had appointed the bed quite nicely. Soft white sheets, blankets, a duvet and tons of pillows dressed the California King, and were thoughtfully turned down. There was even candy on the pillows, hotel style.
“Candy!” I exclaimed, bringing a chuckle from the Brit.
I also noticed my overnight bag, alongside my white Polo shirt on the chair by the window next to his bag. I looked at him in surprise.
“I thought it might be nice to spend at least one night in your new house,” he said shyly, looking at me for approval.
“George?”
“Yes?”
“I freaking love you,” I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck.
“I love you too, Gracie,” he answered and carried me into the room.
After the crazy love was through, we lay in bed. It was very late, although technically it was very early. I don’t think either one of us wanted to go to sleep.
We were next to each other, on our sides, sharing the same pillow. I gazed at him, this man who had taken over my heart completely. I took in everything, memorizing the way his lashes swept down low to almost graze his cheeks. The strong lines of his face, the cheekbones, the jaw line, the nose. The sexy stubble.
The sweet soft lips that were currently pulled back in that perfect smile that still made my heart beat faster when I saw it.
The curls. I remembered the way they looked that day on the way to the beach, the blond glinting in the sun. And the eyes, the green perfection. They were locked on mine, staring at me in quiet reflection. I guessed that he was cataloging my features as well, the way his eyes were poring over me.
In the span of mere weeks, Jack Hamilton had turned my world upside down. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years, and I was grateful to him for it. I had gone through years of quiet hell, and I had all but forgotten what it felt like to be revered so. I forgot what it felt like to be loved, which is why I think I fought this so long. He loved me thoroughly and completely, and while there was a part of me that was still looking over my shoulder to see who he was really looking at, I was coming to understand it.
I loved him that way in return. I loved him as hard as I could. The bubble we had existed in for weeks was now about to burst, but I was not as nervous as I had been to see what it was like outside that bubble.
Because this was real life. And in real life, you are tested, simple as that.
We’d be tested, and we’d have to see how we did. There were still issues to be resolved, but I was now steadfast in my determination that we’d resolve them together. That was what grownups did … and how funny that this twenty-four-year-old guy reminded me of that distinction. I was the one with the grownup mortgage, but the guy with the messy apartment taught me this.
He also taught me how to love my body again. Post-pudge Grace certainly had enjoyed the last year’s sexual freedom after such a long drought, but it was his absolute devotion to bringing me pleasure that made me love my body, flaws and all. I still saw them, but the fact that he adored me so made me grateful for how strong I truly was.
And come on, the guy had practically built an altar to my cleavage. This tended to make a girl feel pretty good about herself.
I continued to stare at him, marveling still at how lucky I was to have him, and I realized, with a start, that he was lucky to have me, too. For whatever reason, he needed me as I needed him. And that was it.
He was the yin to my yang, the frick to my frack, the toast to my Chex.
We had never stood a chance trying to fight this—for me he was the one.
I reached out to scratch his head and he moved closer to me, the gazing over. I cradled him to me and he stroked my breasts, nudging his head into the crook between my neck and my shoulder and wrapping his other arm around me, underneath me. He couldn’t get close enough.
“God, I’m going to miss you so much, Grace,” he whispered, his voice low.
I kissed his forehead, soothing him.
“I know, love, me too,” I answered back.
“We’ll be fine, right?” he asked. He was the one that needed assurance now.
I gave it to him.
“Yes, Jack, we’ll be fine,” I crooned, rocking him slightly. He let his breath out in a long shaky sigh.
“Is it terrible that there is a tiny part of me that wants your show to suck, so you can come home in just a few weeks?” he asked honestly, showing me his heart.
“It’s not terrible.” I chuckled softly, touched by his question. I knew without a doubt that he wanted this success for me as much as I did.
We were both quiet for a moment then, our breathing in harmony as I felt his chest rise and fall. He continued his worship of my breasts, his hands soothing me now. This was not sexual in nature. This was simple pleasure for us both.