Jack Who?

CHAPTER 15

     “Your ring tone.” Hastily, she supplied the explanation to ease any fears he might have of her having already revealed his identity to his son. “He’s fascinated by your ring tone.”

     She wanted to run to Tristan’s side but held back only standing while Jack approached the bed.

     “Oh.” Jack’s smile was tense, but he moved a shoulder in a carefree shrug. “I’m the one I guess.” Setting his cup down, he indicated the remaining one. “Your mom said you liked Blizzards.”

     “Only Oreo.” Tristan’s tone was hopeful, yet resigned, as if knowing a stranger might not get his flavor right.

     Jack picked up the cup, peering beyond the rim with a pucker of his brows– the same pucker that Tristan had when contemplating. “Hey! It’s Oreo!”

     Tristan’s mini brows shot up, and when he sent Marissa a tolerating look, she knew her son was not fooled by adult shenanigans. But he said nothing to Jack of this reasoning that the customer purchasing would know exactly what he ordered. Instead, he beamed a grateful smile and held his tiny hand out.

     “So, how do you play that music? Drums and guitar?”

     Now Jack was the one who sent her a surprised look. Even though the origin of the question confused him, she knew he must be pleased that the first conversation his son started with him was music related.

     “I play the guitar part. My friends play drums, and bass.” Jack alluded to the band members but said nothing of the band itself.

     Watching this exchange, Marissa wondered if she should introduce them, but Tristan beat her to it.

     “What’s your name?” he asked curiously.

     They politely clasped hands after their self-introduction, and she watched, amazed, as the two of them carried on a conversation for a quarter of an hour, only occasionally glancing her way. They talked music comparing song knowledge, and they talked dogs comparing Bally and Rusty. Eventually, she sank to the chair and ate her dessert uncaring that it was a day’s worth of calories in a cup.

     Jack remained until visiting hours were up at nine. Tristan slept some but awoke as if by instinct when Jack was about to leave. With a ruffle of his son’s dark hair, Jack promised to see him next time he came to town. At this, Marissa started, her spine lifting from the back of the chair.

     Waiting until they were in the hall, right outside the door, she phrased the inquiry careful to keep it emotionless. “Are you leaving?”

     “My flight is in the morning. I have a thing. I would get out of it if I could.” His dark eyes seemed both apologetic and as disappointed as she was.

     Keeping her voice light, she slanged the common adage, “Well, watcha gonna do…”

     “Yeah…” He quirked a half grin, rewarding her with almost one dimple. “Watcha gonna do…”

     With that last phrase, he seemed closer in distance as well as height. Was it a double entendre? If so, what she was going to do was…

     Kiss him…

     When she tipped her head up, he met it before she lifted on tiptoes.

     The kiss was warm and sweet, and the touch of their tongues wildly electrifying.

     Despite the public venue, and their son just on the other side of the door, she took the kiss to the next level, sucking, savoring his tongue with more delectation than the ice cream earlier. His throaty rumble was felt, more than heard. He pressed against her, pushing her backside against the wall, taking his tongue away enough to tease the sweet spots on hers and then swiped it across her lips before giving it back to her to do with whatever she desired –

     “You kids need to take that somewhere else!”

     The female voice was haughty as if they were teens being reprimanded, and maybe the woman thought they were.

     Surprised, Marissa jerked but there was no place to go. Jack was slower to ease up, continuing to press his length against her as he stole a few more seconds of the mind-blowing kiss. Her heart raced at a dizzying speed, and she was glad he only pulled his lips away and not himself or she would have slid limply down the wall.

     Unanimously, their heads turned to the retreating figure of a large woman wearing Scooby Doo scrubs. Marissa’s giddy giggle couldn’t be stopped, that is until Jack brushed another kiss on her lips, reacquainting their tongues a few more seconds before moving back a step.

     “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised. She nodded or voiced some form of agreement, then enjoyed watching him walk away before turning back to the room. While her body was still singing from his kiss, nothing seemed impossible.

     New custody plan. Marry Jack Storm.

 ♪♫••═════════════════••♬ ♭