Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(55)

Because this Jack, who seemed a permanent fixture (the multiple personalities had totally disappeared), was the Jack who slipped into her heart that night four months ago in a way she thought he’d never leave.

And this would mean she’d been wrong when she’d accused him of using her as a prize in a competition with his brother.

And that would mean that she’d thrown their night in his face, a night to her that was so magical she thanked her lucky stars for it. A night about which, at the time, she thought he’d felt the same thing.

Which would mean what she’d done was beyond rude. It was insulting and even unforgiveable.

But she couldn’t ignore the conversation she’d heard Joy and Yasmin having. And she couldn’t ignore the behaviour of Jack and Miles in the stables which proved true their obnoxious rivalry. And lastly she couldn’t ignore the way Jack himself had treated her when he was one of the different Jacks.

And she knew better not to proceed with caution.

She’d been hurt before, again and again (and again) in ways many women (luckily) never endured.

Belle knew the pain of a betrayal of trust hurt far worse than a fist slammed into your cheekbone or an arm twisting yours excruciatingly painfully up your back.

Therefore she knew better than to let anyone have that opportunity again.

On this thought, either her mind was so engrossed or the sound of the sea swallowed all other noises, because she missed the auditory warning of someone approaching and felt movement right at her back.

Before she knew what was happening, Jack settled behind her as she saw his legs surround her body, bent at the knees.

Then his arms slid around her at her waist and he pulled her back into his chest.

Belle’s body went still at both the memory of when he held her this way before and the beauty of being held that way now.

His mouth came to her ear and he whispered, “I see you out here and wonder what’s in your mind, poppet.”

“I come out here to clear my mind,” she told him honestly.

“Is it working?” he asked.

She shook her head so she heard his chuckle, up close, right in her ear and the sound of it made her tremble.

She felt his hand’s slight movement and it came to rest on the baby while his other arm stayed wrapped loosely, but strangely possessively, around her.

Belle had the sudden wish that this was them, sitting by the sea next to his daunting but beautiful castle after sharing a Saturday together, quietly and patiently waiting for their baby to arrive. A baby whose arrival would not mean the end of what they had now, but would be the beginning of something even more wonderful.

As she had this thought, Jack asked, “Do you want to share what’s on your mind?”

She shook her head again instantly.

No, it was safe to say she did not want to share.

He didn’t speak.

She looked down at her belly and her hand, as if it had a mind of its own, moved to touch the healing scabs at his knuckles.

“Do you want to tell me about Miles?” she asked, also as if her mouth had a mind of its own.

“No,” he replied in a way she wished she could take the words back but his hand left her belly, twisted and caught hers. He lifted it, up and over her shoulder, where he brought it to his mouth and touched his lips to it.

Belle lungs compressed all the air out of her body as he dropped both their hands and positioned them, hers flat against the baby, his on top.

“Let’s just say Miles was far more polite when you were there than he was after you left,” he told her and Belle couldn’t imagine that as Miles had been well beyond rude when she was there.

Jack kept talking.

“It was coming for a long time, Belle. He’d been pushing for it for years. It was what he wanted and, finally, I gave it to him.”

“You didn’t want to,” she made a guess and his hand twisted again, his fingers lacing with hers, he moved their hands to rest on his hard thigh.

“No, I didn’t want to,” he agreed.

“I don’t know if Joy is okay with it. Gram won’t let us talk to her about it,” Belle informed him.

“She’s not okay with it but she’s lived with it all our lives. She’ll cope,” Jack replied.

Belle turned her head to look at him and he lifted his chin from where he’d been resting it on her shoulder so he could meet her eyes.

“He’s been that way all your life?”

Jack nodded and said, “Not that bad but he’s always been competitive. When Dad got sick, it changed, degenerated, got compulsive and became all constant.” He stopped and there was something so sad, so resigned in the tone of his voice that Belle had the urge to comfort him. To touch her lips to his or turn in his arms and give him a fierce hug.

Or both.

She did not do either, of course.

Instead she whispered, “I’m sorry. You said you didn’t want to talk about it.” She looked away and stated firmly, “We’ll stop talking about it.”

“We have to talk about something else,” he told her and the way he said that made her brace. And her bracing made her realise she’d relaxed into his arms and had been resting her weight into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

This made her brace even more.

“Maybe we can just watch the sea?” she suggested, terrified that he was going to bring something up she didn’t want to talk about. Like agreeing a visitation schedule after the baby was born. Like discussing child support payments. Like a number things that didn’t go along with sitting in his arms and watching the sea.