of us will have to budge. One of us will have to move. Why shouldn’t it be me? I swallow. But why shouldn’t it be him?
“Listen, I really want to…but it just doesn’t make sense businesswise for me.” I bite the inside of my cheek. That was a really callous thing to say. “I mean…it would be suicide for my career.”
Jack leans forward and pours more wine into our glasses. He takes a long sip. “You’re right and I’m proud of you for not buckling. It might be the easiest option but it doesn’t mean it’s the right one. I’ll figure something out.” He puts his wineglass down on my coffee table and places his hand on the back of my head.
“We’ll figure something out. You’re not alone in this, Jack. This isn’t all on you. We’re a team now, right?”
He smiles at me. “Right.” Our lips meet and I’m being led away from my worries, away from the what-ifs and hows. Nothing is there, just bliss. Pure, deep, loving kisses. Kisses that roll a tidal wave of security over me and I’m going under.
I take out the letter my grandmother sent me. She has sent me more letters than I can count over the years. This one is much different. It’s not like the one she wrote to me over Thanksgiving, where she gave me her prized pecan pie recipe asking for me to prepare it for our family’s dinner. No…this letter asks me to use her apple pie recipe as a base and figure out my own special recipe to enter in a contest. A CONTEST! I blink repeatedly. I am still having a hard time with this concept. Sure, everyone said my pecan pie was great over Thanksgiving, but they are my family and even if it wasn’t amazing they would still be complimentary of it.
But the annual Fourth of July apple pie contest? With real judges? And real bakers? Why would my grandmother want me to do this? Why not Megan? I let out a deep breath.
“So tell me about this contest.” Jack pulls me in close and kisses my neck. Cascades of shivers fall over my arms…as if I can think with his lips anywhere on my body!
“Um, my grand—”
Jack’s lips cover mine and our tongues swirl together. His hands are running up and down my body, gripping and tugging on all of my pleasure points. I’m unraveling into pure joy and we are standing in the spice aisle at my grocery store. I pull back and shake my head.
“Jack, we’re in public.” I eye him and give him a please look.
“True, but we’re alone in this aisle.” Jack pulls me close again and kisses me harder as if the seconds being away from my lips created a stronger desire. I meet each twist of his tongue with my own and run my hands over his back. I stop.
“Jack, seriously, let’s get our groceries and get out of here.” I turn my attention to the letter and examine the notes.
Jack grabs the letter with one hand and my fingers with the other. He guides me down the aisle and into the back of the store. He pushes us through the double doors that lead into the warehouse.
“Jack, what are you doing?” My eyes dart all around us. Jack positions me into an aisle of boxes.
“This.” Jack reaches behind my head and pulls me to his lips. Our mouths meet and our tongues dance a rapid swirling sensational samba. His hands are roaming all over my body as if he is trying to remember every curve so he can sketch me from memory. My insides are squeezing tight; my breathing is out of control. I’m falling into ecstasy and I don’t care where we are. The only thing I see is Jack: he’s in front of me, connected to me, circling me, with his every touch.
“Excuse me, you can’t be back here,” a voice calls out to us.
Jack moves me behind him. “Oh, sorry about that, we couldn’t find the cinnamon or anyone to help us, so I thought we would check your stockroom.”
“Uh, hon, cinnamon is in aisle three and it’s stocked.” The man clears his throat.
“Well then, off to aisle three we go.” Jack leads me out of the stockroom and into aisle three.
I laugh as we stand in front of the cinnamon. “Really?”
“Really what?” Jack peers down at me. He rubs his thumb over my chin. “Your lipstick is smeared; you should be more careful with the application.”
I shove his arm. He doesn’t move though. He grabs my hand and kisses each of my knuckles.
“Lauren, I can’t hold out much longer.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “This was you holding out?”
Jack bites my finger. “You don’t want to see me not holding out.”
I pull my hand away from him. “Maybe I do.” I toss my hair over my shoulder.
“Let’s get your ingredients.” Jack growls into my ear. Tingles swarm down my neck and over my shoulders like a firework exploding in the sky.
“Yes, let’s.” I scan the letter. We’ve got everything except the nutmeg and the apples.
I select an organic bottle from the shelf and toss it in our basket.
“I just need Granny Smith Apples.”
Jack’s eyes are dark with hunger. He whisks me into his arms and kisses me deeply before releasing me and I do my best to follow behind him to the produce section. My legs are wobbling from walking on a cloud of Jack’s love. He grabs a bag of Granny Smith apples and we head to the checkout, eager to get home.
***
I put the gear into park. I feel parked. Boxed in. Like a traffic grid on my life. Jack is back in Texas and I’m back at work. I’ve got to navigate my way through the day. I don’t want to have any intersections with Leena or Elaine. I need to have my first team meeting and plot out goals for Q1. This will be the first meeting that I’m leading and Javier is going to be listening in. This is of course something I’m really looking forward to, except not really.
I click the remote on my car and stalk my way to the elevator. As I get closer, I notice the door is open. Being held open by a hand.
It’s Trent. “I saw you pull in and thought I would wait for you.”
“Already trying to kiss up to the boss?” I laugh.
Trent laughs. “Always better to be on the good side.”
“True enough.”
The door is about to close when a purse wedges its way in between the opening. “Please hold the door.”
It’s Elaine. I’d recognize that artificial sweetener anywhere. Trent hits the open door button and pries the two doors wide with his massive hands.
“Oh my, thank you. What big hands you have.” Elaine’s eyes travel from Trent’s hands and over his entire body. She could pass for a body-scanning machine at the airport. That was intense.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” Trent hits the five button.
