Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

PART TWO~CHAPTER : 30

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 “Damn it Jack, you gave her a new car, you tell me. How hard it is to give me a heads up!”

“It's nobodies business. And what the hell is Jerry doing scoping the house when nothing is going on?! How are they getting these pictures?! No one has ever been at Meg's before!”

“The pictures of you as one little happy family are actually working favorably. The picture of Tristan with a broken arm, not so much.” Through the phone speaker Emma's tone dripped with irritation.

“That is a perfect example of 'what the hell! How in the fuck did that many get tipped off? It was the middle of the night, and we were not at the ER for more than an hour!”

“I don't know Jack. All I can say is, you need to help me to help you.”

“And I'm telling you I'm not going to call you up every time I buy my wife a present.”

“You just said wife. Is there something else you need to tell me?”

“She is as good as. Later Emma!”

“What's going on?” After shamelessly lurking in the kitchen doorway, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Ambling over to where Jack perched on a bar stool, I saw that he was watching the PT and Tristan in the pool through the window.

“Emmagesty is all bent about the car.” Cracking one of his half grins, he returned my hug.

“Any particular reason?”

“Because she's Emmagesty.”

“So pictures of us at Meg's leaked?”

“So she says. I haven't seen them. And now, apparently, some of us in your car.”

Every muscle stiffened pulling painfully against my bones, and I stepped back to look into his face. “Of us in the car? Or..” I dropped my voice regretting that I had ever felt safe inside my own car. “Or us in the car?”

I could see it in his eyes. They lit up like he was about to tease me, then just as quickly, empathy replaced the emotion. “Of us and Tristan with the roof down. The windows are tinted enough that, when they are up, it would be impossible to see more than shadows, even with someone pressed up to the glass.”

Relief washed through me, and I relaxed against him again, swinging around to press my fingers into his shoulder blades. He groaned appreciatively under the massaging ministrations of my fingers.

For the last couple of days, he had done far more than casually pick up a guitar. His personal practice sessions ran a couple of hours apiece, two or three times a day, the third dependent on whether or not he had practice with the rest of Jackal.

“Dax fixed eggs with cheese.”

“He doesn't have to cook for me and Tristan.” I protested. “Just wake me up, Jack.”

“Thank you. Eggs sound lovely,” Jack jokingly mocked in a high pitched tone, and I tried to pinch him, but failed to grasp any skin over the lean muscles of his back.

The growl coming from my stomach made him laugh, and relenting, I mocked right back, “Thank you. Eggs sound lovely.”

Moving to the stove, I began to make toast for an egg sandwich while he picked up his phone again.

“I'm going to take Tristan out today. Drive around. Get some lunch wherever he wants.”

“Cool.” Taking a giant bite of the sandwich, I eyed him as he answered a text. Then I turned my attention to Tristan in the pool. Maybe I would soak up some sun on the island without Tristan continually splashing me, and try not to think about how fast the tour was coming on.

Definitely I would call my mother and update her about Tristan's ER visit, something I should have done already.

What ended up happening was Randi dropped by to see the new car and then sweet talked Dax into picking up lunch for us, which we ate on the patio.

“So you told Jack about Emagesty? And the tour decree?” Randi spoke while arranging the avocados on her salad.

“It came up.” I stabbed my fork into the lettuce. Then, when Randi stilled her motions with a hopeful look, I divulged, “He was furious. I do not know what happened from there, but I do know we are going on tour as soon as Tristan can. And that Emmagesty doesn't even look at me any more.”

Just the afternoon before, the publicist had stopped by with some papers for Jack and had pointedly turned her face away from me. It was kind of a relief not to have to play nice with her anymore.

“She will get over it.” Randi shrugged.

“And who cares if she doesn't. I shrugged.

We both giggled and went on to better topics.

“Since you will be home then, I was wondering if you wanted to check out a shoot?”

“Oh, I don't know,” I hedged remembering the conversation with Candace. Were they really going to try and talk me into a lingerie shoot?

“Come on. This next one is tame. It would be fun!”

Would it? I couldn't imagine being as uninhibited as Randi, but in the end agreed.

“Awesome!” Randi cleared her trash. “And now I must go home and get ready for a date with a certain physical therapist!”

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