Sweet Obsession (Men of Whiskey Row Book 1) (23 page)

Jack took his eyes off the road for a minute to look at her. “Noelle, you don’t have to thank me. I wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t want to. As far as I’m concerned, the ring is yours forever.’

They passed a sign that read “Devil’s Hill”, and Noelle saw Jack’s fingers clench the steering wheel tightly. She reached over and touched his arm, and his muscles were tense. She rubbed in slow circular motions until she felt the tension leave his body; he heaved a sigh, before shooting her a tired grin.

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling up to a huge, three-story, white rustic farmhouse with modern touches that was hidden by huge weeping willow trees. The greenery surrounding the house was overgrown, wild, and lush with azaleas, hydrangeas, gardenias, magnolias, and varying perennials. About three hundred feet from the house was a modern industrial-looking wood and steel building. Behind it, the mountains seemed to go on forever and ever.

This time, Noelle didn’t wait for Jack as the car came to a halt. She quickly jumped out, spinning around to take it all in as the scent from the flowers filled her nostrils. She felt Jack standing behind her, and his masculine scent blended right in with the heady aromas of nature surrounding them. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her as she visualized little children, their children, running around with wild curls, and the huge double kitchen windows thrown open with pies cooling on the sill. Lazy weekends filled with family and friends, maybe a pool where Jack would teach their babies how to swim. She wanted that dream so badly it became hard for her to breathe. Finally Jack spoke, “Welcome to my-”

“Home,” she finished softly; because she knew in her heart of hearts that was what it was and where she truly belonged.

***

The inside of the house was large and spacious with blonde wood floors and huge windows. There were four bathrooms and six bedrooms. It had a dreamy, romantic feeling, and Noelle could easily picture it filled with a mix of feminine and male touches, like; floral patterns, velvet, leather, and wood. With the exception of a huge dark brown leather sectional sofa and coffee table in the family room, the only other room with furniture was the kitchen with its exquisite, wood dining set. Noelle spent at least ten minutes oohing and aahing over the detailing.

“This is amazing! Look at the colors in the wood and the pattern on the table legs. This is a four thousand dollar set easily. The style makes me think of my table and bookcase back home. Is it the same person? How’d you get your hands on it? Uncle Ian said the designer only makes one of a kind pieces,” she fired off questions as she walked around the elegant piece. Noelle narrowed her eyes as Jack shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“On top of just being a good guy, I’m pretty well connected, darlin’. Who wouldn’t want to be nice to me?” he smiled, blinking at her slowly with those gorgeous hazel eyes. Noelle was instantly suspicious that the designer was a woman and gave him a skeptical look. As if reading her mind, Jack laughed that deep, wonderful laugh, causing her belly to do flip flops.

“Relax, Mrs. Sullivan. The person in question is a he, not a she,” Jack laughed again as Noelle turned her nose up at him and turned away to hide her smile at being called his missus.

“What are you going to do about furniture?” she asked curiously as she continued to inspect the kitchen. Jack leaned his big frame against the doorway and put an arm over her, effectively trapping Noelle with his body. His nearness made her heartbeat increase and nipples harden as his scent filled her nostrils. His eyes focused on her parted lips for a moment before they slowly rose to meet hers. The air between them was charged with sexual tension.

“Tonight we can crash on the sofa; it has a pullout bed. I’ve got some pieces being delivered the day after tomorrow, but I was hoping that we could go into and Nashville to pick up some things. I’ve been meaning to make it look more like a home, but never seemed to have the time,” Jack said in a low husky voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Since you’ve got excellent taste, maybe you could help me pick some stuff out?”

Pick some stuff out and leave her mark all over his home so that he would be reminded of her when she was long gone and another woman would be made aware of her presence? “I would love to,” Noelle said sweetly.

Jack pulled back to wrap a strong arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead as they walked out. “Why don’t you take a shower and relax? I had Kat come over two days ago and fill the master bath with toiletries and towels. There are some sheets and blankets in the closet off of the living room. I’ll grab the bags from the truck.”

Noelle started towards the stairs. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, and Noelle?” She turned around to look down at him with a questioning look.

“Anything Kat might have put in there for you that’s small and lacy please leave outta sight. I don’t think my poor heart could take it if it was just for show,” Jack said seriously, eyes full of heat before walking out the door. Face burning, Noelle hurried up the stairs for a cold shower, certain it was going to be a
long
night.

***

Jack couldn’t sleep. He looked over at Noelle and she was face-down in the pillow, knocked out. Being with her was so easy that he knew bringing her here was the right choice to accomplish his goal. She kept the demons of the past at bay. After bringing their luggage in, he went upstairs to also take a quick shower and spied the La Perla bag in the middle of the master bedroom floor. “Christ,” he muttered, resisting the urge to explore the bag’s contents.

When he came back downstairs, they stretched out on the sofa Noelle had set up with blankets and caught up on their respective messages. Jack deliberately ignored the emails he received from Ian and Alicia, instead focusing his attention on reading the bios Margaret had compiled on two potential clients that requested representation from the firm. One prospect was an Italian-French chef with her own cooking show. Jack was convinced that, with her ambition, she could be the next Martha Stewart. The other prospect was a young, social media tycoon who just wanted to make the world a better place. Ian voted yes to the tycoon and no to the chef. Vivi wanted both to come on board, but Ian was adamant that the chef would be even more trouble than Inez was already proving to be. Jack had the deciding word and would be meeting with both candidates when he got back to New York.

Noelle occasionally asked Jack’s opinion in regards to promoting Tarik’s party as she typed away on a new business plan that she was drafting. She confided to him that she and Avery were hoping to expand the business to include a floral and gift arrangement division. She was too cute, with her curls pulled into a sloppy bun and large, black- framed glasses that hung on her nose, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke. Finally, the day’s events caught up with her. One minute Noelle was talking about what to put in the baskets, and the next she was snoring. Unfortunately, gorgeous girl that she was, her snoring was horrifying. She would kill him if he ever mentioned that her snores were as loud and grating as a chain saw.

The night hummed with nature’s choir. The frogs croaking, crickets chirping, and the occasional bird calls had soothed Jack to sleep when he was a little boy; but now all he heard was his last conversation with his mother playing over and over in his mind; his guilt for not doing more eating away at him. Jack hated the feeling of helplessness; of wishing he was bigger and stronger so that he could have taken on Patrick Sullivan. Late at night, after putting his brothers to bed, he’d take his shower and let his tears of grief mix with the warm water.

This house was Jack’s tribute to his mother. The flowers and trees planted outside were her favorites, and she’d often told them that she longed for the farmhouse that was her home back in Ireland. He glanced at the stone fireplace where the barn beam mantle laid over it. Her name, birthday, and zodiac sign were elaborately carved into the wood. The tribute to his bastard father was him putting the “Devil’s Hill” marker by the road that led up the hill to where the bastard’s body was buried.

Noelle rolled over, and he looked down at his sleeping beauty, watching as a tiny frown marred her lovely features. He pulled her close to him, and she snuggled closer, pressing her body to his with her face in his neck. Her black curls sprawled over them, and the frown disappeared. Jack sighed contentedly before soon drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

The nest morning, Noelle woke to the delicious aroma of bacon tempting her nostrils. She blinked at the bright light coming through the windows and looked over to the now empty spot where Jack slept last night. Being in his strong arms, with his heartbeat as the lullaby beneath her ear, had been nothing short of heaven. She could hear low voices in the kitchen and decided it would be best to go and make herself presentable.

Eager to get the day started, Noelle quickly relieved herself, showered again, and brushed her teeth. After applying moisturizer and some mascara, she shook her hair around, applied sea salt spray, and scrunched it into beach waves.
Now what to wear
. She decided on a white, off-shoulder tee with layered gold and silver necklaces and light denim cutoffs. White sandals completed the look.

As she headed to the kitchen, Noelle could hear Jack and another man’s voice that she didn’t recognize. The country drawl was even deeper than Jack’s, but there was a hint of something else; Spanish perhaps? When she entered the room, all conversation stopped, and both men stood up to greet her; but she only had eyes for one.

Jack was dressed in a dark green t-shirt that clung to his sinewy muscles and made his tan appear deeper and blue jeans. Brown, worn, country boots adorned his feet. His hair was rumpled; and although he hadn’t bothered with shaving, the scruff covering the bottom of his face was such a turn on that Noelle didn’t mind one bit. Gone were the tailored suits and gelled hair; the only thing left on him that was city slick was his Hublot watch. He’d turned into a country boy overnight, and it just made him even sexier to her.
Goodness gracious,
Noelle thought as he smiled warmly at her, his eyes traveling up and down her body before saying, “Mornin’,darlin’. How’d you sleep?”

Slow, heat unfurled in her belly, and Noelle felt her body respond to his appreciative gaze. “Morning; fine thanks and you?” she responded huskily; and hearing the need in her tone, Jack’s hazel eyes clouded with lust.

“Like a baby.” Jack’s voice was a low rumble that let her know exactly what was on his mind. Sexual tension filled the air between them as they stared at each other. Self-consciously, Noelle licked her lips, and his eyes burned brighter as they intently followed her tongue. He moved towards her and she to him, but the spell was broken by someone clearing their throat nosily. Embarrassed that she’d quickly forgotten someone else was there, Noelle glanced to her right and couldn’t help but wonder aloud “What the hell kind of Kool Aid are the people in this town drinking?”

The stranger raised a perfect, black eyebrow and quirked his sumptuous-looking lips, before speaking in a deliciously low, slightly accented voice. “I’m afraid that I have no idea as to what you’re talkin’ about, Mrs. Sullivan. I’m more of a Bourbon man than a Kool Aid one myself,” he finished with a wink.

As far as Noelle was concerned, he could have been telling her to jump off the side of the mountain for all the attention she paid to his words. Standing before her was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. He was at least at least six feet-four inches of lean muscle and bore a striking resemblance to the male model Willie Cartier. Where Casey was blonde and angelic, this olive-skinned man with freckles on his face was darkly beautiful and sensuous. His straight black hair hung to his elbows. Thick slashing brows, an aquiline nose, and high cheekbones dominated an angular-shaped face that managed to be delicate and masculine at the same time. Sweeping black lashes covered almond-shaped black eyes that burned bright with mischief, and those sinfully sexy lips were framed by a Fu Manchu.

He could have been a poet, renaissance man, vampire, warrior, or the leader of a drug cartel; his look was that versatile. Hollywood would salivate to get their hands on a man who looked like this. Masculine and lithe, like the artist Prince, he was a walking contradiction and packaged far too sexily for his own good. Noelle knew she was staring and that her beloved Jack was starting to get antsy, but she couldn’t help herself. Then the tables were turned as the stranger subjected her to the same thorough scrutiny, making her blush.
Oh my.
Jack finally broke the silence by walking over and pulling her close to him possessively, and giving the other man a territorial look.