Reawakened Secrets (8 page)

Jackson looked up and waved us over to his table. “Hello, Claire. How’ve you been?” I could tell he enjoyed my inability to piece together a coherent response due to the smirk on his face. “Keeping busy, I see,” he continued, staring at Adam. “Would you and your
friend
like to join me for lunch?”

I gritted my teeth, going from scared to pissed in three seconds flat. These games had to stop before I let myself get caught up in something that was never going to happen.

“We need to talk, right now. Let’s go.”

Because everyone was staring—either whispering speculatively or confirming appreciatively that he was my secret admirer—I couldn’t get out of the cafeteria fast enough. I didn’t even take time to say goodbye to Adam. Instead, I walked through the door to the nearest stairwell. I tugged nervously on my scrubs as I waited for him to follow me.

“Jackson, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Brows drawn together, he smirked down at me. “Apologizing . . . you know, most women who receive flowers and gifts wouldn’t have to ask.”

“Most women don’t know you as well as I do. Besides, apologies are usually made in person, and the person apologizing is always after something.”

“Good point,” he said with a laugh.

His arms hung loosely at his sides. He was fighting against the smile transforming his face, but he couldn’t have been trying too hard. While I was a nervous wreck, he seemed at ease leaning against the wall. He looked . . . happy. Could he be more of a jackass?

“I’ve missed you, Claire. I know you’ve missed me too.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then why are you so angry?” he asked smugly. “I’ve been out of town trying to settle some business so I could focus all my attention on you. I tried to say good-bye and would’ve come back sooner if I could have.”

“For what? Do you want to personally suffocate me with rose petals?”

“Are you telling me you don’t like the flowers?” he asked with a knowing smile.

I folded my arms across my chest and clamped my lips shut. Lying would be so much easier if I didn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Fine, Claire. You tell me. What do you like? Are you dating Mr. Right, or do you want to become Mr. and Mrs. Doctor Shaw?”

The urge to say yes was so strong, but I couldn’t bring myself to use Adam that way.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not dating anyone, especially not Adam. I’m kind of busy trying to be a surgeon.”

Something flared behind his eyes, deepening the edges to an azure blue. “Okay, then, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll start apologizing better if you tell me what you want. Tell me the type of guy who could make you happy.”

Describing some arbitrary perfect guy was not possible when my dream come true was standing right in front of me.

“Am I supposed to believe you want to be
the guy
for me?”

“Yes.” His reply was short, sweet, heart-stopping.

Flustered and unable to explain why I couldn’t just tell him to go to hell, I sank down onto the steps. Then I said the first thing that popped into my head. “I don’t know. I guess . . . I want my Edward.” My head lifted at his soft chuckle.

“Are you talking about
Jane Eyre?
I remember you used to keep a copy in your backpack. It was practically falling apart.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still my favorite.”

“Always studious, even when it comes to love,” he teased. “I never saw you as a Cinderella type of girl, but I can’t believe you’d have a thing for married men who lie.”

“I’m not into guys who abandon me, either.”

This time, neither his smile nor his gaze faltered for a second. “Claire, I’m not criticizing you. I just need you to explain it to me. It was not all bad, but
Jane Eyre
has to be one of the most depressing love stories ever written. I would hardly consider it the perfect ideal of love.”

“I don’t expect you to get it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was still beautiful. Edward was her sure thing. They were always going to love each other, even if they shouldn’t, even if they couldn’t be together.

“
All my heart is yours, it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever,”
I recited.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel,”
he countered.

Holy shit—seductive bastard! He sat next to me, staring into my eyes, searching for something that was beyond me. I was just trying to remember how to breathe.

“I can’t . . . we can’t do this.”

“Why not, baby?”

“Because, I don’t trust you. You shouldn’t trust me either.”

“I trust you, Claire. And I will earn you back, whatever it takes.”

“You disappeared—for ten years! How could I ever believe you would stand by me? What happens when you change your mind?” Even though I asked, I already knew the answer.

“I don’t expect you to believe me yet, but I’m your sure thing,” he said, using my own words against me. “Claire, I know I screwed up when I left, but those were extreme circumstances. It hurt like hell to stay away, but you were always with me. You’re a part of me, Claire. No amount of time or distance could change that. For me, it’s always been you, and it’s past time you knew that.”

Struck dumb by his words, we sat and stared at each other for several minutes before I was composed enough to speak through the lump in my throat.

“That’s crazy. What about Alice? You have to know everyone expected the two of you to end up together.”

“I love Alice with all my heart.” His simple reply was like a sharp stab to my soul, but Jackson didn’t seem to notice. “I would do anything for her,” he continued, “but we’ve always had more of a brother-sister relationship. Alice knows that’s not going to change just because our parents fantasized about a romance for us.”

She did?

At some point, he had taken hold of my hands, and he was rubbing them in slow, intoxicating circles just above my fingers. Preoccupied as I was, I only became aware of this when I looked down to see what was spreading the unfamiliar warmth from my arms to the rest of my body. I shifted uncomfortably and listened to what he had to say.

“Things have always been different with you and me, Claire, even when I was five. Whether you amused me with your humor or infuriated me with your big mouth, I just wanted to be near you. That last year was unbearable,” he said, taking an unsteady breath.

“That’s why what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. You did everything you could to distance yourself from me then. It really . . . hurt.”

Embarrassment prevented me from meeting his eyes. I felt like a petulant child telling on someone for not being my friend anymore. He lifted my chin so I no longer had a choice but to stare directly into them. His hand lingered and caressed my cheek before falling away.

“Claire, it took every bit of my control not to tell you how I felt. All I could think about was how much I wanted to touch you, kiss you; just hold you in my arms and know that you were mine. But when you started dating Duncan, I couldn’t stand to be around that.”

“I went on one date with Duncan—one.”

“What about all the times he waited for you at your locker, walked you to class or ate lunch with you? He was always around and I just wanted to smash his fucking face in. But, I knew Duncan wasn’t the one for you, so I waited.”

“How could you have possibly known that?”

His probing gaze searched my face before answering. “Because you feel it, even if you don’t want to. The connection that draws me to you, let’s me feel you before you even walk into the room.”

My eyes swung down to our joined hands. “Jack, I-”

“Don’t, please don’t lie to me. Just try to understand. If I took one step toward you, you’d take two steps back. It gutted me every time you let him hold your hand or hug you good-bye. Especially whenever I got close, you ran. So I came up with my brilliant plan to win you over and get you to forget all the reasons you weren’t willing to take a chance on me.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?”

“You’re not exactly enamored with all the baggage that comes along with me being a Montgomery. You’ve never made a secret of it, and I get it, I do. I’m everything you don’t want.”

“Jackson-”

“It’s okay, Claire. We both know it’s true. I’m part of the rich and entitled crowd you wouldn’t willingly give the time of day. I hoped with a little time and patience your feelings would become as strong as mine, and it wouldn’t matter so much. In the meantime, I didn’t want to mess up our friendship before we had a real chance to be something more.”

“Well, it sounds like you had me all figured out and look how great that worked out. Do you really expect me to believe this was all part of your master plan?”

He smiled down at me, sadly. “No, of course not. I had hoped to wait and slowly show you how I feel. I had planned every single step, but I completely blew that to hell because I can’t keep my hands off you. Then, after Alice’s accident—well, you know what happened.”

“Okay, so, before Alice’s accident, you just expected me to wait around for something I had no idea was ever going to happen?”

“Believe me, I know how crazy that sounds. What can I say? I was a stupid eighteen year old.” His laugh dispelled some of the tension between us. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes. I want to be crystal clear with you now. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more than I want you, Claire.”

I shifted, sliding deeper into the heat of his eyes. Those beautiful eyes branded me to my seat, melting away any lingering desire to escape. Suddenly, all laughter, all air seemed to disappear from the stairwell. Our faces were so close. He was still doing magical things to the hand he held, and his other hand once again reached for my face.

“Why didn’t you ever come home?”

Jackson released a heavy sigh. “I never intended to leave and not come back. I thought Alice would recover—a week or two tops. But, months kept passing by with no change and I- I just couldn’t.”

“Please tell me why, Jack.”

“After everything that happened, I knew you’d never be with me as long as she wasn’t with us. I couldn’t face how badly I’d fucked things up. I couldn’t come back and live the life I had planned to share with you.”

“Damn it, why did you have to say all of this to me now. You don’t know . . . if you did, you’d hate me.”

The walls were closing in and it was getting harder to breathe. I had to tell him the truth, right now, but how could I do that? All I could think about was escaping this nightmare. I looked around frantically searching for a way out.

“Hey, Claire, look at me,” Jackson demanded. “I could never hate you. This is all my fault and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I would give anything to take it back—not going after Alice like you wanted—leaving you. I’ve suffered every day missing you, wanting you, Claire.”

He pulled me into the circle of his arms and I couldn’t control the shivers his closeness created. His lips brushed mine in a soft caress; once, twice, and I was completely lost in sensation. It was as if his touch broke the dam I had painstakingly erected to contain my desperation for him. The sweet and gentle slide of his tongue against mine became the reason for my next breath. My fingers dove into his hair, pulling him closer. To get a better angle, I straddled his thighs, but the stairs were a barrier between us.

Closer.

“I know, baby.”

I jerked in his arms, realizing I’d said it out loud, but I was too far gone to stop. Without breaking the kiss, Jackson cradled my ass in his hands and stood up. I tightened my legs around his waist. He walked up two steps to the landing and pressed me firmly against the wall.

Still not close enough.

Jackson began to slowly rock into me. We groaned in unison.

“Jackson, I’m going to explode,” I confessed against his lips.

He trailed moist kisses down my neck before gently grazing my earlobe with his teeth. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered.

Jackson’s hand moved down my body to the waistband of my scrubs. He quickly moved past the lace edge of my panties until his fingers fluttered across my clit to stroke inside me.

“Fuck, Claire. You’re so wet. Do you know how much I want to take you right here in this stairwell?”

“No, Jack, we can’t,” I groaned. But I continued to grind shamelessly against his fingers. His thumb pressed against my clit, and I bit down on his shoulder to stifle a whimper. Jackson moaned and started to work his fingers faster.

“I want to hear you come.” Jackson moved back so that we were nose to nose. “Tell me you want this, Claire.”

Wedged against the wall, riding his fingers, I couldn’t look away, and I couldn’t lie. “Please . . . please,” I panted.

Jackson squeezed his eyes closed, and his face contorted as if my consent caused him pain. His groaned; incoherent words against my neck pushed me over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure contracted against his fingers, squeezing tighter and tighter until Jackson’s mouth crashed into mine, muffling my cries.

“Sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard,” he murmured against my lips.

The mind-numbing orgasm started to fade, and I drifted back to reality. Still trapped against the wall, his arousal left no doubt about the restraint he exercised by stopping when he did. Lord knows I wouldn’t have been able to resist. What the hell had I done?

“I’m sorry, Claire. I promised myself I would take it slow, but I just don’t know if that’s possible with you. Please don’t be mad, baby.”

Was he serious? Don’t be mad even though I had just let him finger-fuck me in public where anyone, including my colleagues, could have enjoyed the show?

“I’m not mad—at you,” I sighed. “Nothing happened that I didn’t let happen. Just let me go,” I begged, pushing at his arms.

“I can’t. I know you’d be better off without me, but I’m yours and you were meant to be mine.” He slid his right hand down until it rested above my breast. “Your body knows it. I won’t stop until your heart does, too.”

I bit back a moan, as agony ripped through me. He owned me, completely. He always had. Everything I ever wanted was within the circle of my arms, but he would still never be mine. Even if I could make things right with Alice, and that was a big if, there was something else I couldn’t make right. Something that made me doubt whether Jackson Montgomery could ever be my sure thing.