Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(89)

“Your Dad is wilder than your mother?” Jack asked in a voice that said he found that hard to believe.

She threw a grin at him over her shoulder. “Yes. Definitely. He’s nuts.” Then the toast popped up, she whirled around, snatched it from the toaster, began slathering it with butter and asked, “Would you get the jam out of the fridge, please?” she paused and then added, “And the grape jelly.”

“Grape jelly?” he enquired and she threw him another grin.

“It’s an American thing. Mom sends it to me.” She looked back at the toast and kept talking. “We have grape jelly. We have grape candies too. We don’t do black currant.” Belle gave a shiver at the very thought of black currant.

She heard the fridge open and Jack said, “I’m guessing you don’t like black currant.”

“No,” Belle replied in a way that left nothing to the imagination about how much she detested black currant and she heard him chuckle.

“You eat jelly for breakfast?” he asked.

She finished buttering the toast, put more bread in the toaster, picked up a wooden spatula and turned to him.

“It isn’t English jelly, we call that jell-o.” Belle put great emphasis on the “oh”. “It’s jelly-jelly, like jam, without the bits in.”

Her kitchen was small, Jack’s big frame made it smaller but it became tiny when he suddenly closed the fridge door, took a wide step toward her and got right in her space.

She leaned back as he leaned in and his arms slid around her.

She looked up at him and saw the warmth was definitely in his face as was the tenderness, also definitely, but there was something else there. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was partially amusement but the rest of it she didn’t know.

But it made him look… happy.

It was, incidentally, his best look ever.

Even so, breathless and feeling a trill up her spine even as a strange spiral of fear curled in her belly, Belle said softly, “Jack, I’m making eggs.”

“I switched her on,” Jack replied bizarrely.

“What?”

His face dipped closer and he repeated, “Somehow, I switched her on.”

It was then Belle realised what she was doing, how she was behaving and just how much she was talking.

Her eyes slid to his ear and his arms grew tight as he gave her a firm but gentle shake.

“No, love, stick with me,” he said.

“I need to make the eggs,” she muttered to his ear.

“Look at me,” he demanded, her eyes slid back to his and his head bent so his forehead could rest on hers. “I’m looking forward to your eggs. I’m also enjoying learning about your father and grape jelly.” Somehow, even though he was as close as you could get, he managed to get closer when he went on, “You can be this woman with me. You don’t have to switch off, poppet.”

Belle didn’t speak.

Jack didn’t either.

Finally, Jack moved, touched his mouth to hers and then his lips drew away an inch. “Or you can be whoever you want to be.”

At his words, Belle’s soul sighed.

Then he let her go, went back to the fridge, bent into it and she watched him pull out the grape jelly.

He put it on the table, walked to her, put his hand to her jaw, slid his thumb across her cheekbone, dropped his hand and walked out of the room.

Belle dazedly turned back to the eggs.

Then, slowly, she smiled a small smile at them.

By the time Jack returned, the eggs, bacon and toast were done and she was serving them onto warmed plates. He’d put on his shirt, partially buttoned up the front but his feet were still bare.

Silently, she set the plates on the table.

Jack sat, as did she.

They started eating.

After about a minute, Jack called her name and she lifted her eyes to his.

His hand came back to her jaw and he said solemnly, “These are the best eggs I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” she asked softly.

“Really,” he answered just as softly.

He took his hand from her jaw and continued eating.

Belle took in a breath for courage and queried, “Are you going to try the grape jelly?”

“No,” he answered immediately, taking a bite of bacon.

“Why not?”

His gaze came to her and he said in all seriousness, even though his eyes were dancing, “I have a rule. I don’t eat purple food.”

She felt a giggle bubble up inside her and she let a little of it escape.

“Grapes are purple,” she informed him.

“Grapes are naturally purple. That,” he indicated the grape jelly with a jerk of his head, “is not a colour nature intended. Therefore, I amend my rule. I don’t eat chemically-induced purple food.”

Another giggle bubbled up inside her, it was softer, quieter and she let it free.

After she was done giggling but before she’d resumed eating, Jack’s hand came toward her again. This time it didn’t go to her jaw but around her neck. He pulled her forward, leaned forward himself and he kissed her.

It wasn’t long and it wasn’t hard.

It was soft, sweet and thorough.

When he was done, he let her go, sat back and resumed eating.

Belle studied him a moment then asked shyly. “Do you want to know more about my Dad?”