Lacey looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her tiny apartment and practiced her most fake smile. This is how she would look when he told her that nothing was going to happen between them. She had blown it. She just knew it. What had she been thinking insisting that they wait so long? She should have compromised with him and things wouldn't have gotten so messed up between them. Would it have really ruined anything if they'd made out a little, or gone for coffee a few times? Why had she been so stupid?
Grabbing her purse from the front hall table, she left her apartment thinking that it would serve her right if Jack didn't even show up. One of his brothers could do the walk-through just as easily, and avoiding her would certainly make things easier for him if he wanted to opt out of any kind of future hanky-panky with her.
He was probably with some double-jointed, ex-stripper/brain surgeon right this second. And they probably weren't fighting over tile color. Had she actually done that? Yelled at him? Over tile? What was wrong with her? She never yelled at anyone. Ever. She hadn't even liked her ex-boyfriend, Barry, and yet she had worked like crazy to appear cheerful and easy going around him. But with Jack, someone she really liked, she couldn't seem to hold back her emotions.
It was like she was another person around him. Someone exciting and unafraid to speak her mind. She kind of loved this new Lacey, but feared her too. She had lived her whole life being afraid that people wouldn't like her if she showed her true colors. And now, she was pretty sure she'd been right all along. Jack couldn't possibly still want her after she'd kept him at arm's length for five months, could he? As if that wasn't bad enough, she'd added insult to injury by arguing with him at every turn too. He'd be out of his mind to still be interested.
Getting into her little car, she paused, and took a couple of deep breaths to calm the butterflies beating themselves senseless in her stomach. Being sick would not improve this situation. She just had to stay calm and keep her emotions under control. Whatever he said, or did, she would take it in stride. She could handle his rejection with dignity. And if she was wrong, and Jack was still interested in her, she would keep her cool as well. Being in control was key to not getting hurt.
Jack was sitting on the top step of the stairs leading up to Lacey's future front door. A familiar perch for him. He felt like he'd spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for Lacey over the past few months.
Today, she was scheduled to arrive for the final walk-through of her cottage in a few minutes and he was trying to contain his excitement at seeing her again. He was smiling like a fool just thinking about her reaction to the changes he'd made to the original plan. She was going to be so happy. The place had come together beautifully and he was so proud to show her his work, and make her dream house a reality.
It seemed as though he had sat here waiting for her countless times over the past few months. They had met here every Wednesday evening so he could show her the progress they'd made on her place. One of his brothers or Serena or a member of their crew was always around and Jack and Lacey hadn't even touched since that kiss in the Daily Grind parking lot. These meetings at Lacey's cottage were an odd combination of pain and pleasure for Jack, depending on how long they spent together and how frustrated he was.
Sometimes she came to the build site directly from work. On these visits she would be dressed in formless scrubs, and her hair would be in a practical bun. Not exactly sexy attire, but her beauty still brought him to his knees every single time. Sometimes, when he was really lucky, she would jog to the build site.
Lacey usually wore an oversized T-shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants for these mid-jog visits or even a boxy reflective running jacket. She never dressed provocatively, but it didn't seem to matter. He salivated like a Pavlovian dog whenever he saw her familiar curvy figure approaching.
On one particularly hot day, she'd appeared like a wet dream in just a sports bra and spandex shorts, and he'd been forced to cut their visit very short, or suffer what felt like a permanent zipper imprint in his penis. He had spoken quite gruffly to her that day, and had practically walked out in the middle of their paint discussion because he had felt his attention wandering into dangerous territory as he'd watched a single drop of sweat roll down her neck and into the deep swell of her cleavage. It was more than a man could take.
From that day forward, she dressed like an absolute prude. Even on days when the temperature was sweltering she purposely dressed as frumpy as possible. He appreciated the effort, but it really didn't do any good. He'd suspected that the body under the scrubs and sweats was jaw-dropping and now that his suspicions were confirmed, getting her naked was all he could think about.
Despite the discomfort of unsatisfied sexual tension screaming between them, he still anticipated her visits like a kid on Christmas morning. When Lacey arrived he felt alive. Annoyed and horny as hell, but alive. And the rest of the time was just dead space until her next visit. This wasn't healthy. He knew that. Especially for someone who wasn't supposed to be interested in a relationship.
Over the past few weeks it had become pretty evident to him that despite his best intentions he was already involved with Lacey. They had an odd, unconsummated relationship which had been on hold for five months, but still, it was definitely a relationship. And it wasn't nearly as scary as he'd thought. In fact, except for the no sex part, it felt very natural. And his guilt and grief over his wife and son's death had finally receded to a manageable level.
He'd stopped constantly reliving that day. His mind no longer circled all the possible ways he could have prevented the accident. For so long, his objective had been to focus on the immediate task at hand to distract himself from thoughts of the past. It took all his effort to get through each day without succumbing to despair, and most days he failed miserably at this. But now he could contemplate the future and actually felt like there might be something to look forward to in life. Because of her. She simply made him happy. Well, at least she did before the friction made them so crazy, and they started arguing over stupid things.
As an outlet for their passion the sniping wasn't very satisfying, but it did give him a chance to really get to know Lacey. He felt he'd seen her at her very worst, and her worst was still pretty damn cute. And funny. She made him laugh even when he wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. This was a woman he could fight with and make up with for the rest of his life. He only hoped her feelings hadn't changed. He had, after all, banned her from her own house. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because he really couldn't handle being around her anymore without some kind of relief from the tension. And they were so close to being done. If he could just live through this walk-through, then they could take things to the next level. He only hoped the next level included some hugely anticipated sex, and hopefully a whole lot more. Maybe even love?
A familiar little red car pulled up in front of the cottage, and Jack rose from his step to greet his woman. He watched Lacey get out of the car, and throw her sunglasses on the dashboard. She was wearing a dress and her long, dark hair wasn't in a ponytail or a bun for a change. He was amazed to see that it fell halfway down her back in a glossy, wavy cloud. His mouth went dry as she stepped around the car and he saw those boots. He rarely noticed women's footwear, but Lacey in fuck-me heels was a sight to behold. He grinned inwardly as she nearly stumbled coming up the cobblestone walk. Obviously, she wasn't as comfortable as she looked in those lethally sexy boots.