Eye of the Storms (Eye of the Storms #1) (25 page)

“Okay, we obviously did things backwards here,” Jack laughed, and a trade of seats was quickly made. Tristan moved into the seat across from his grandmother, where he happily turned his attention to the window next to him. Jack moved into the middle space next to me, and Jack’s father took his spot.

For some reason, I could not keep my eyes from straying to Jack’s father. Something seemed familiar about this family, as if I knew them, had been with them before. Eventually, I shrugged it off as fate. I belonged with them even though I was not yet comfortable with them.

Tristan began to alternate his attention between the window and the television flat against the wall. Jack and his father were laughing over some redneck reality show. Jack’s mother was writing in a spiral notebook when she wasn’t engaging Tristan in conversation.

The plane descended into the Denton airport on the outskirts of Dallas. We all debarked while some of the luggage was unloaded.

Jack with Tristan had just emerged from the restroom when a woman, who looked to be in her fifties, came into the lounge area of the hangar.

“Yoohoo?” The woman knocked as she breezed in. Yet again, I felt a fleeting familiarity. The woman formally put out her hand to Jack’s mother. “Hello, It’s been years, I’m—”

“Years!” Jack’s mother agreed and introduced the other woman. I was left trying to control my amazement when I associated the name with a renowned pop star of years back. Mrs. Loren went on, only to be interrupted, “This is my son Jacks—”

“Oh, my stars! You were just a baby the last time I saw you!” The woman gushed, and I had the rare pleasure of seeing Jack turn red. “And now, you look so much like your father back in the day! Matt had that same dark, almost black, hair!” The aged pop star continued, and now, strangely enough, Jack’s mother flushed, and her eyes glowed with a glimmer of irritation. “Does Matt still have dark hair, or is he gray like the rest of us? I don’t know about you, Jules, and your beautiful red, but I am gray under this blonde!”

“Um…” Jack’s mother seemed reluctant to speak of her husband to the woman and quickly derailed the conversation. “This is my grandson!” Tristan was hiding out behind his father, and his grandmother urged him forward.

“Ooh, now he is the spitting image of Jack the last time I saw him. The festival in Glasgow was it?” The woman was crooning over my son, and protectively, I moved nearer.

“This is Jacks’ fiancée, Marissa.” Jack’s mother smoothly continued, as if she hadn’t been interrupted.

“Hello, Marissa. A pleasure to meet you—” At this point, the door leading to the hangar swung open, and to confound the situation even more, Jack’s father looked as if he wanted to back quickly out before being noticed. But it was too late. “Matt Loren! It has been ages! Just ages! I could not believe when my pilot mentioned that you were circling for a runway. I had to stay and say hi!”

“Hello, Tracy.” Jack’s father clasped one of her hands in both of his, but the former pop star maneuvered it into a hug. Pulling back, he asked, “What brings you to the DFW area?”

“I just did a cosmetics promo.”

Their voices faded as everything clicked into place—like a jigsaw puzzle that I had never known was missing pieces. The woman took her leave, and a collective relief settled on the room. As Jack and his family began their goodbyes, I again scrutinized his father.

“Marissa.” The man draped an arm warmly about my shoulder. “Take care of these boys. Don’t let ‘em get into too much trouble.” He winked at Tristan.

“You’re Matt Loren!”

Taken aback by this outburst, he moved away enough to study my face and next turned quizzically to Jack.

“You’re Matt Loren. I cannot believe I didn’t see this last night! You are Matt Loren!”

Jack’s father, Matt, seemed to be trying to control the quirk of amusement on his lips. Jack’s mother, Jules, sent Jack a strange look, her husband a confused look, and me a sympathetic one. The sympathy, I quickly understood when my limbs felt weightless for a moment, and I knew I must look as shocked as I felt.

Matt Loren was a rock legend, his hits easily riding out the decades, long after his bands stopped touring. The songs were in regular rotation both on the classics stations and nineties alternative.

Trying to recover, I stammered of the two bands Matt Loren was most known for, “I grew up listening to Jewelweed and After Hours… I can’t believe… this is crazy…”

My eyes sought Jack’s, but he was in some eye battle with his mother who seemed to have won because he looked away first and then down at the floor.

“Let’s get you guys on the plane so you can get to LA before dark.” After bestowing a warm smile on me, Matt took control.

“Your song ‘I could be’ is my favorite.” I couldn’t seem to shut up. Mortified because I had extended what was already an embarrassing moment, I bolted for the door.

Jack’s parents seemed reluctant to let us go, their eyes lingering fondly on Tristan.

“This is a surprise for when you get to your daddy’s house.” Jules showed a colorful shopping bag to Tristan before hooking it and another over my hand. “And this is a housewarming for you and Jacks.”

Accepting the proffered ginormous shopping bag with a thank-you, I watched as Matt and Jules Loren warmly embraced my son, and their own son. After a quick hug to me, we were admonished to board so we could “get home before dark.”

I safety belted Tristan into the same chair he had earlier vacated, and instead of taking the seat beside Jack, I sat in the one across from Tristan.

“Want a drink?” Jack stood at the mini bar, catching my eyes in the mirrored wall as he offered.

“I do!” Tristan informed, sparing only a glance from his rummage through his shopping bag. “Look Mom!” Tristan tossed the swim trunks and Bandit beach towel aside in his excitement upon discovering an assortment of blow up toys, diving rings, and various other pool fun.

To Tristan’s astonishment, Jack folded out a table from its compartment in the boy’s armrest and set two juice boxes atop it. A few minutes later, Jack set a mixed drink in the cup holder on the arm of my chair and returned to his seat with his own.

The pilot stepped out of his nook long enough to inform us that we were about to taxi. Once we were in the air, I addressed the elephant in the cabin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you—” Jack was about to ask ‘tell you what?’ That much I felt, but whatever crossed my face caused him to abort that tactic and try my own shenanigans against me. “I thought you knew.”

“How would I know?” Agitation caused me to lean forward in the seat as I made the incredulous inquiry. “So, is your name Storm, or Loren?”

“Storm is an alias. Professional name. Like a DBA.”

“DBA?”

“Doing Business As.”

“So your name is still Loren.”

“Jackson Matt Loren.” The admission came grudgingly, and he tossed back the contents of his glass.

Jack Storm. Marissa Storm. Tristan Storm
. All had filled my head for days, and it was hard to wrap around another name.
Jack Loren. Marissa Loren. Tristan Loren.

“This is what you wouldn’t tell me last night.”

When he fell silent, as if he were going to let it drop, a realization occurred, and I looked up from an intent study of the french manicure Olivia had insisted I have prior to the meeting of the future in-laws. My heart hammered as my next question came out as accusative as the last.

“Did you think I would be all weird last night around your parents if I knew?”

When this speculation provoked a quirk of a smile, much like his dad’s I was discovering, I wanted to lunge across the cabin and slap it off. Because, of course, I had acted all weird a half hour ago upon discovering the truth. Now, I was the one to let it drop.

Studiously ignoring him, I peeked into my shopping bag, finding a ginormous thread count sheet and comforter set. The accompanying card explained in a humorous tone, Jack’s masculine decor, and that, until I found time to redecorate to our’” mutual liking, maybe this could suffice.

From my corner vision, I noticed Jack eying the cream-colored set, and couldn’t help but wonder if his mother had been perceptive enough to realize that a change from the bedding that other women had been in would be welcome. Cramming the stuff back into the bag, I snatched up the drink, gulping it down.

When I next looked over, Jack was asleep, and since I heard none of the slight snores, which normally accompanied his exhausted sleep, I wondered if he was faking. If I had not been so keyed up, I would have napped.

The previous night had only a few sleeping hours in it. After the parents had departed, and we had gotten dirty in the tub, we had then stayed up still a couple of more hours playing.

The rumble of turbulence on the underbelly of the plane effectively ripped away my erotic memories, and I let my gaze glide around the interior of the cabin.

Was this my new life then? Private planes? Famous names?

The new found security of not mentally allotting every penny of my paycheck to some bill or necessity before it even hit the bank was somehow counter weighed by an insecurity I didn’t understand. A feeling so foreign, that a couple of times yesterday and today I had verged on what must be a panic attack.

Forcing long slow breaths, I closed my eyes to the lavish surroundings and my hotter than sin fiancé while struggling to stave off the next attack.

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Book 2
Storm's Eye West Coast Girl
Available December 15, 2014 at Pre Release Price .99
Click Here To View Pre Order Page

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My family for putting up with my many hours of hiding away.

Laura Russo for all of your help and input with this book, Lianne for the awesome word
lingerina
, all Wattpad Jackaddicts who encouraged this book into what it is today.

Rhonda Lamey Goodreads Librarian and dear online friend. Thank you for keeping Jack in order on Goodreads, for proofing the original Jacks, and many great suggestions and encouraging words.

Kat McCarthy
for amazing graphic skills on the cover.

Debbie Williams
for proofing and editing expertise.

Tammy Thompson of
Sassy Beta Reading
and LaDonna Pigg for lending their excellent beta reading skills.

Deena at E-book builders
for invaluable advice on all things e-book and more.

Zyng Books for being so amazing to work with and letting me in on the ground floor of this new innovation.

People Reads a great place to find ebooks