Intoxicated (23 page)

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Authors: Jeana E. Mann

BOOK: Intoxicated
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Ally followed Jack toward the kitchen. He seemed to know his way around pretty well considering that he’d never been to her house before tonight. She hated to think about what he’d been doing while she was gone.
 

“You were supposed to stay out of sight.” She grabbed his elbow and dragged him towards the hall.
 

“I really like this passive-aggressive thing you’ve got going on,” he said, dimples twinkling. “It makes me hot.” His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he took her in.

“He will eat you alive,” Ally hissed.
 

“I doubt that. I can hold my own.” He pulled out of her grip and straightened his shirt. “I promise that I won’t tell your daddy that I had my hands in your panties before he got here.”

“Jack!” In spite of everything, she laughed. He bent down and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I thought you’d still be drunk.”

“Oh, I’m drunker than a skunk,” he said with a lopsided grin. “But I drank a pot of coffee and took a cold shower. I’ll have a hell of a hangover tomorrow and I’ll be wide awake all night.” He began rummaging through cabinets. “Where’s your liquor at?”
 

“It’s over here.” She sighed and pointed to the tall cabinet doors on the left. “I figured you went through every cabinet and drawer in this place while I was gone.”

“I didn’t get as far as the kitchen,” he said. “I got stuck on your nightstand. It was like a damn candy store in there. I might have to revoke your popsicle status after seeing all the toys in there. We’re going to have to take a couple of those items for a spin after your dad leaves.”

 

To her consternation, Jack and Mike hit it off. They talked about sports and laughed over ribald jokes that she didn’t understand. Jack could be very charming when he wanted and seemed knowledgeable on a variety of topics. Perks of being a bartender, he explained. Once Jack asked about Mike’s military history, they began a long and boring session of military talk that made her temples throb. She pouted in silence, sipping a glass of white wine while Jack drank coffee and topped off her father’s glass, and only took an occasional break to glare at him over the kitchen table. Underneath the table, his hand rested on her thigh. Each time she brushed it away, he replaced it until she finally gave up. If Mike noticed the climbing heat in her cheeks, he didn’t show it.
 

Mike raised his glass and peered at the younger man over the rim. “You like the circus, son?”
 

Jack’s brows rose and his eyes flitted to meet Ally’s, puzzled over the abrupt change of subject matter. He shrugged. “Well, I’ve been called a clown before.”

“That’s good ‘cause this family is one monkey on a unicycle away from Barnum and Bailey’s.” Mike smiled at them both, gulped down the last of his Scotch and nudged the glass forward for a refill.

 

As Mike regaled Jack and Ally with stories of his stint in the service, Jack couldn’t help but make comparisons between father and daughter. The resemblance was subtle but there nonetheless. Ally’s coloring was fairer and her hair darker, but her features had the same sharpness as her father’s and a similarity of expression that left no doubt as to her paternity.
 

“So what did you want to tell me, Daddy?” Ally interjected with characteristic directness during a pause in the conversation. Jack could feel the tension in the thigh beneath his hand; she was wound up tight like cat about to pounce.
 

“Right.” Mike took a swig of scotch and stared into the depths of his glass as if hoping to find inspiration in the golden liquor. “I got married again.”

“Married? Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.” Mike cleared his throat and, for the first time ever, looked somewhat abashed. “It’s Rita. You remember her, don’t you?”

“Daddy! She’s younger than me. Are you nuts? I hope you signed a pre-nup.” Ally’s tension transferred into Jack’s hand, making his fingers ache.
 

Mike pulled out his phone and called up a photo of a very leggy and curvaceous brunette wearing a tiny pink striped bikini. Mike handed the phone to Jack with smug male pride, and he could understand why after he saw the new bride. The picture had been taken at a beach party. Mike had his arm around Rita’s waist and Rita had her bodacious tits pressed against her new husband with bubbling affection. Dozens of people who looked like Rita’s family swarmed around the happy couple. Ally peered over his arm at the picture. A fleeting expression of hurt clouded her brow before the familiar mask of indifference slid into place.
 

“Beautiful girl,” Jack said sincerely. “You look very happy together.” Even on camera, the sexual chemistry hummed between the newlyweds.

“It’s disgusting.” Ally wrinkled her nose.
 

“She’s pregnant. Due in January.” Mike cast a sheltered glance at Ally, green eyes unreadable. The word
pregnant
stabbed into Jack like a dagger, a sharp and unpleasant reminder of his predicament.

“Oh.” A little of the tension in Ally’s leg eased beneath Jack’s fingers, like a balloon deflating, while his own stress level soared. “Where did you have the wedding?”

“On the beach at her parent’s place. Just some close friends and family.” Mike reclaimed the picture and stuffed it back into his wallet.
 

Ally’s lips pressed into a tight line and Jack saw the glimmer of tears. Apparently Mike had forgotten that Ally belonged to his family as well. By her expression, Ally hadn’t forgotten. Jack’s heart squeezed in an unfamiliar pang of empathy at this unexpected peek into her upbringing. She was an outsider to her own family. No wonder the girl had trouble accepting his affection.
 

“I’ve sold the house here. Rita wanted something closer to her parents. Jesus, look at the time.” Mike glanced at his wrist watch and cleared his throat again. “You got me talking and time flew by. I hate to leave but I promised Rita that I wouldn’t be out too late. We’re flying out in the morning. I had your things boxed up and put in storage. Here’s the key.” Mike dropped a small silver key onto the table beside Ally’s wine glass.
 

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” Jack said. He rose and shook Mike’s hand. Ally remained seated and silent.

“You take care, baby girl.” Mike nodded to Ally, more like a passing acquaintance than a father. In Jack’s family, even strangers got a hug when they dropped by for a visit. The physical distance between father and daughter puzzled him. “If you need anything you give me a call.”
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

When the door closed behind Mike, Ally said nothing. Jack wanted to comfort her but the distant look in her eyes as she stared out the window suggested she was better left alone. To his surprise, she didn’t protest at his presence or try to throw him out. Instead, she made a straight line for the liquor cabinet, took out a decanter, and poured whiskey into a tall glass of ice. She handed a glass to him, but he shook his head. He’d be buzzed for days after this last binge. She shrugged, took her glass, and with the bottle in her opposite hand headed out the French doors to the small patio.

The temperature outside bordered on hot but had cooled considerably with the earlier rain and the humidity had dissipated with the daylight. Ally sat on the love seat. Jack took a seat beside her. It was one of those things that moved back and forth like a swing. His mother had one on her porch and it brought back a sharp pang of nostalgia. Ally rocked it with a bare toe, a little faster than necessary, but that was to be expected given her state of dismay. They sat in silence among the sweet scent of jasmine and the faint refrains of jazz music that escaped the open window of a neighbor’s house.
 

“I know that I’m in the business of selling drinks to people, but you’re hitting that bottle pretty hard, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow as she emptied her glass then refilled it.

“She’s twenty-three,” Ally said. “My stepmother is two years younger than me.” She slammed the glass onto the patio table, whiskey sloshing over the sides to form a brown puddle on the tablecloth. “And she’s pregnant. Pregnant! How does that happen?” He knew exactly how it happened, but didn’t think he should go into that subject quite yet. “He’s forty-fricking-eight years old. You’d think he’d know how to stop those things from happening.” A shiver of disgust shook her body. “I introduced them, you know. She needed a job to work her way through school and my dad needed an office girl so I gave her an application. I never dreamed that I’d have to call her mommy.” She slapped her forehead with her hand.
 

“Shit happens, Ally. Life isn’t neat and tidy. Most of the times it’s a fucked up mess and we do the best we can to get through it.” No one knew that better than he did.
 

“This is crazy, Jack, and you know it.” Ally jumped up from the glider and began to pace along the deck of the patio — back and forth, back and forth — with the whiskey bottle in one hand and gesturing madly with the glass in the other, sloshing liquid through the air. “It’s irresponsible, that’s what it is. The man has lost his mind.”

“Well, if you ask me, he seemed pretty stoked about it. I mean — a guy his age knocking up a hottie like that...” Despite the conviction of his words, he felt hollow inside.
 

“Not helping, Jack.” Ally stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. A tendril of hair had escaped its hairpin and fell over one eye. She puffed it away with an exasperated breath. It rose like a feather into the air then fluttered back over her eye.

“I’m just saying, is all. Why don’t you put your drink down and come over here? You’re making me dizzy.”
 

“No.”

Never in all his days had he met such a stubborn woman. With an exasperated sigh, he took the glass from her hand, placed it on the table, and then tugged her into his lap. She wriggled in protest, but he trapped her firmly against his chest and waited for her breathing to slow. It was like holding a bag full of angry squirrels against his chest, but after a few minutes, she relaxed against him. He had intended to tell her about Chelsea, to confess his own terrible mess, but somehow this just didn’t seem the time.

 

Ally leaned back against Jack’s chest, feeling the heat of his body through her shirt and the rhythmic pounding of his heart against her back. The power of his arms made her feel safe, as if nothing and no one could hurt her while in the circle of his embrace. His nose nuzzled her ear but he remained silent. After a few minutes, all of the tension in her body eased until she felt boneless, a sudden surrender of the mind that brought a sigh from her lips.

“Better?” His voice rumbled through his chest, the vibrations massaging her back.
 

“Yes. Better.” She let her head fall back against his shoulder and sighed again.
 

“Jesus. I thought you were going to blow for a minute there, Popsicle.” Even though he had just shaved, stubborn stubble had already begun to sprout on his cheeks. It tickled against her jaw as he nuzzled her neck.

“Don’t call me that,” she mumbled. The whiskey and the warmth of Jack’s body combined with the rocking motion of the glider made her eyelids droop with weariness. She was
so
tired. The meeting with her father had sapped the little remaining energy she had left.

“Go ahead and close your eyes for a minute, baby. I’ve got you.”
 

 

Something tickled Ally’s lips and woke her from the most erotic dream she’d ever had. She jerked to consciousness only to find Jack staring at her with a devilish twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes. It took a minute for her to remember why he was there and then heat rushed into her cheeks at the memory of her dream. Had she talked in her sleep? From the shit-eating grin on his face, she must have done something embarrassing. Then she realized that they were in her bedroom and no longer on the patio.

“How long was I asleep?” She bolted into a sitting position and rubbed a hand across her eyes.

“I don’t know. An hour maybe. I thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” Jack certainly looked comfortable, sprawled out on his side next to her with his head propped up on his elbow.

“You should have waked me.” The heat in her cheeks intensified. Why the hell was he looking at her like that?

“I tried but you told me to fuck off. You’re really feisty when you’re asleep.” He trailed a finger up her forearm and lingered in the bend of her elbow. “And then you started making these moaning noises, like you were in a porn video.” The long dark lashes blinked in innocent delight. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to interrupt your sex dream.”

“Oh, God.” She clapped both hands over her eyes and wished she could disappear.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“No.” She flopped back onto the mattress. Moonlight streamed through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the floor, bright enough that she could see the angles and planes of Jack’s face and the curve of his full lips. In her dream, she’d taken his lower lip between her teeth and tugged on it.

“We could re-enact it. I’d like to make all your fantasies come true.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips.

In spite of her chagrin, she laughed. “Do women really fall for that line?”

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