House Rules: The Jack Gordon Story (14 page)

Within
five minutes of picking up the couple, he was ready to screech to a halt and
toss them out on their asses. They were the worst kind of pretentious, moving
from
Bahhhston
, from their precious
Haaavaaahd
to this,
apparently backwater, hillbilly town of Ann Arbor, Michigan.  Mister Doctor was
going to serve as head of otolaryngology or some shit, and Missus Doctor would
be forced to start her plastic surgery practice all over again. They were
insufferable. Jack had to bite his tongue nearly in half to keep from telling
them as much.

They
dawdled at the first two condos, arguing over the relative merits of a central
vacuum system, claiming that there was no way on earth or heaven that Ann
Aahbahh
could have possibly the vacuum sucking power that Cambridge did. He groaned,
noting the time. If he didn’t get the doctor assholes out of here, through the
penthouse he was ready to sell them soon, he would be an hour late for his
date.

Not
that the prospect sounded too bad at the moment, as the woman in question had
called him twice while he was trying to work, which he had ignored. He sincerely
hoped she would prove worth it, as he was starting to doubt that the house she
was offering would be. He’d fucked his way into some prime listings, as early
as his first weeks on the job. It was a method that had stood him in good
stead. But now, today, it felt all sorts of tawdry and lame.

He
ignored the yammering jerks in the back of his SUV and pulled into the
underground parking of the large, almost new condo building just a block off
the main intersections of downtown Ann Arbor. His construction company had done
the interior work on this building, and he was proud of how it had turned out.
But he was within seconds of suggesting they skip it. He left his engine
running long enough to turn and hope he could convince them to go the fuck back
to Massachusetts and leave him in peace. He kept his hand on the wheel, ready
to bolt.

“Hey,
you know, you guys may not like this unit. It’s smaller than the last one, and
I know you had a thing about wanting that extra study. This is a penthouse and
it’s a very open floor plan so….” He moved his hand down to the gear shift, his
heart already lightening at the thought of dumping them back at the hotel and
getting the hell away. Nothing was worth this torture.

“Oh,
no,” Missus Doctor Bitchface waved her ring-laden finger and drew up the corner
of her collagen plump lips. “We’re here, aren’t we? Might as well.” She
shrugged, and Mister Doctor Asswipe chuckled as if to suggest that it was
Jack’s fault for pulling into the dark parking lot—that if he had thought ahead
and just skipped it altogether they could be shed of each other’s company by
now. He cursed under his breath and turned off the ignition.

His
shirt was sticking to his back, and he was limp with the effort of trying to
say or do anything right for these snobs. Nearly suffocated by his own flop
sweat, he couldn’t wait to unload them and take a long shower.

He
swore again when the elevator opened up next to the single door and noted that
the lock box was cracked open already. Glancing at his watch and the notes
Jason had written on his listing sheet he saw that the place was vacant, and
there was nothing about an earlier showing. He’d trained his assistant to
always ask that. He hated nothing more than bumping up against another agent
coming or going. It was a pet peeve of his really. He banged on the door, anger
clouding his already frustration-addled brain.

Goddamn
it was hot in this hall. He shot the couple an insincere smile, and touched his
knuckles to the door once more at the same moment it swung open. He started to
speak. When he saw who stood there, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“Oh,
hi Jack,” the woman was just disheveled and blushing enough to send his inner
sexual Dominant a crystal clear message. He knew who she was. And her name
wafted across his brain in a way that both soothed and irritated him.

He
held out a hand, his voice still not working until she laid the set of keys
there, sending a bolt of something new and fresh up his arm to the base of his
skull. She met his gaze, her emerald green eyes flashing once before she looked
straight down to the floor.

The
dark curtain that had covered his soul for the last months, years even, seemed
to sweep back. He could practically feel himself standing up straighter, sensed
the colors in the room deepening, sharpening, the more they stood there in what
would be awkward silence. He blew out a breath that he had not realized he’d
been holding, then rallied, looked over her shoulder and spotted the man behind
her. But when he fixed his eyes back on her deep, green gaze once more he
couldn’t repress a huge smile. “Hey Sara,” he said.

Epilogue

The
sand was cool on Jack’s bare feet. Sun warmed his back. He could smell the
fragrance of roses, and sunscreen. He touched the flower pinned to his shirt,
trying to convince himself this day was actually happening.

Activity
along the beach was dying down as the guests started taking their seats. He was
tucked towards the back, still in the shadow of the multi-layered deck that
connected Rob and Blake’s Lake Michigan house to the shore below. His head was
clear, but he could feel his knees quaking and acknowledged at that moment—he
was flat out terrified.

Not
at the step he was taking. Of that he was a hundred percent confident. He
loved, was loved, and they were making it official in front of family and
friends, finally.

No,
he was afraid of failing. Because of all the things he had succeeded at—work,
investments, taking over his father’s construction company, even his impressive
golf handicap—he’d never once in his entire life had a successful emotional
relationship with a member of the opposite sex.

He
spotted his sister and her kids sitting in the front row. Her face was pensive,
but when she glanced up and met his gaze, she blew him a kiss and gave him a thumbs-up.
He waved, weakly, a sudden wave of nausea making him suck in a breath. God he
wished Brandis were here.

“Hey,
thought you might want this.”

He
turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Blake, Sara’s brother, a man who could
be her twin in male form stood holding a couple of sweating bottles of beer
from his and Rob’s brew pub. Jack hesitated, his ingrained reaction to Sara’s
overprotective brother kicking in. But he let it go and held out a hand. They
sipped in silence, observing the gathered group milling around while the string
quartet played on the deck above them. “I’m happy for you,” his almost
brother-in-law said, keeping his eyes trained to the horizon.

Jack
finished his beer and held onto the bottle, gripping it tight as the hard
reality of their situation hit him. His friend Rob was very sick. The cancer
that had lain in wait, in remission, had returned with a vengeance. They
weren’t sure how much longer he would last. But he had found love, with, of all
people, Sara’s brother, way before Sara and Jack even met. It had made the last
few years interesting to say the least. But Jack would take the blame for some
of it, and lay the rest at the feet of the woman he was about to marry, and the
guy now staring at him, his green eyes a perfect match for Sara’s.

“I
know, Blake. Thanks. That means so much…to us both.” He put a hand on the man’s
shoulder. They were dressed in similar fashion, khaki pants rolled up over
their ankles, feet bare, with soft white cotton shirts bearing a single
rose—Blake’s, Rob’s and Evan’s were cream colored. Jack’s was blood red.

“Don’t
hurt her.” Blake said, around the mouth of his beer bottle. “That’s all I ask.”

Jack
smiled, put his hand out, and Blake shook it. “It is now my solemn mission in
life to make sure she is never, ever hurt.”

“Daddy!”
A small voice made him turn. Reacting to that word still surprised him. “Uncle
Blake!” The little girl raced toward them, her soft, gauzy dress already
wrinkled, the flowers in her hair dropping as she ran.

“Hey
sweetie,” Blake said, kneeling down to greet her. “What’s up?  You’re supposed
to be with your mom.”

“She’s
crying. So I left,” she said in her matter-of-fact way, clambering into her
uncle’s embrace. Blake shot Jack a look. He put a hand on the little girl’s
warm back.

“Kate,
honey, what’s wrong with Mommy?”

“She
says she’s happy. But she won’t stop crying and it’s messing up her makeup and
Julie keeps trying to fix it but….” The girl shrugged and reached for him. Jack
took his daughter in his arms, closing his eyes for a split second, realizing
how very close he had come to losing her, to losing Sara. The last few years
were more fraught than he cared to remember. But now, finally, he had it, the
final piece in his puzzle—his family. Katie snuggled into his neck. “I’m hungry.
Can we have a snack?”

“Tell
you what. You go back and tell Mommy that you’re hungry and that Daddy wants to
see her, all pretty and not crying. It’s time for her to get down here.”

“So
we can get married?” The girl’s bright green eyes lit up at the word.

“Yeah,
baby, so we can get married.”

 Katie
took off, her tanned brown legs pumping fast under the out-of-character girlie
dress.

“Jack,”
Kyle appeared, holding out a hand. He’d gone and gotten himself ordained or whatever
one does, and could officiate at weddings. He was the obvious choice, since
neither Jack nor Sara was religious. He wore his khakis and a white shirt too.
His face was calm. His eyes twinkled. “Let’s go, man. Time to do this thing.”

Jack
sucked in a deep breath and walked towards the small, flower covered arbor on
the beach. Kyle leaned in at one point and said, “You sure about this? Don’t
want to rush you or anything.” Jack looked at him, and grinned at the absurdity
of that statement.

Then
he simply stood waiting. When he saw her appear at the top of the deck, face
radiant, hair flowing down around her shoulders, the simple white sundress
highlighting her every curve, and smiling right at him, Jack finally felt true
happiness.

Later,
during all the hullabaloo, food, drinks, photos, she dragged him aside and
pressed her body close. He shifted, feeling himself respond, and leaned down to
kiss her but she turned her head away. “What?” he said, knowing she was about
to say something. Putting a hand to her face, he let himself have it—another
moment of raw, visceral joy.

She
held onto his waist, put her forehead to his. “I’m pregnant,” she said.

He
blinked. “Oh, uh, so….”

“Yeah,
that weekend. The bad one…but, I guess something good came of it.” She blushed,
which made him love her even more. He grinned, kissed the tip of her nose.

“Well,
no beer for you then, eh, Mrs. Gordon?

“I
love you,” she whispered, tears in her eyes again.

“No
more crying, Sara,” he said, his entire body suffused with more purpose than he
had ever felt. He took her left hand, kissed the simple band she had insisted
on. After twice wearing large, obnoxious engagement rings he had given her that
she’d flung at him later, this seemed best, she said, better luck for them.

Life
with this woman was not going to be a cakewalk. But he wanted it and everything
that came with it. “I love you too. Now, let’s go mingle a little because I am
counting the hours until the honeymoon,” They turned and he gripped her ass,
making her yelp as he waved at some guests gathered around the small bonfires
on the beach. “Hope you took your vitamins,” he whispered out the side of his
mouth as they walked hand-in-hand toward their friends and family.

The End…

Other
Books By Liz Crowe

Want to know what happens between
the last chapter and the epilogue?

Floor
Time (Book 1)

Sweat
Equity (Book 2)

Closing
Costs (Book 3)

Want to know more about Rob and
Blake?

Essence
of Time (Book 4)