Absolution(144)

Eventually, the number of yawns outweighed the number of stories. By mid-evening, Maggie started talking about heading home, and Jane and Callum agreed to catch a lift with her, leaving Jack to help Ally clean up. It was a pleasant way to spend the evening, and she was looking forward to spending some time alone with Jack. He seemed especially attentive tonight, and she was relishing it.

She put on some music while Jack took a bathroom break. Standing there, waiting for the music to fill the room, she smiled to herself as the warm glow of the evening washed over her. She was tired, but there was also a fair measure of anticipation fuelling her too. She wished every day could be like this one.

“Do you need another drink while I’m up?” Jack called out from the kitchen.

She had been nursing a warm beer for the past couple of hours. “Sure, why not.”

Jack came through to the living room with two bottles, putting them on the coffee table behind her.

“Hey, remember this?” she smiled, half-turning towards him.

He listened for a second, then grinned, rocking out to Lynard Skynard’s Sweet Home Alabama. She giggled in spite of herself, light-headed suddenly. To see him happy like this, in her living room, with her, was all that mattered. Everything else seemed to fade into insignificance.

He nodded at the couch and helped her sit, before sinking down beside her. Any residual awkwardness she felt when he did things like that had disappeared. He snagged the beer bottles off the coffee table in front of them and handed hers over.

“Hey, I just poked my head into your studio,” he said. “Is that a new painting on the easel? The paint still looks wet.”

“Yeah it is, I started it this morning. I just woke up and suddenly I knew what I wanted to do. It’s for the exhibition.”

“Really? That’s pretty cool,” he said carefully. “Are you happy with this one?”

“Yeah, I think I am. It feels right this time.”

“Glad to hear it,” he smiled, raising his bottle. “To you, then. And to the exhibition.”

She returned the smile, clinking her bottle against his.

“I know it’s gonna be amazing,” he said, taking a sip.

She blushed, cradling her beer in her lap. Jack sank back into the cushions beside her, his shoulder touching hers. She glanced over at him, as he stared up at the ceiling with a contented sigh.

“Happy?” she couldn’t help asking, guessing the answer.

He turned to her, smiling lazily. “More than you’ll ever know. I haven’t enjoyed myself like this for a long time.”

“Me neither.”

His smile faded as his gaze wandered slowly over her lips, her flushed cheeks, the lock of hair that had fallen forward over her eyes. She was comfortable under the scrutiny for the first time in a long time. She lapped it up, watching him watching her.

She let her mind wander, her gaze following suit. The soft fullness of his lips, the tiny freckles that dotted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, only visible this close, the gentle creases in the corners of his eyes. Slowly, he leaned towards her, eyeing her lips and yet pausing ever so briefly to gaze into her eyes, delving deeply, asking the silent question that she felt herself answering just as silently. She may have even nodded, she couldn’t be sure, but a slow, delightful smile played on his lips as he leant in.

He kissed her softly at first, and she closed her eyes. She lost herself in the moment, drawing him deeper and making her forget where she was and how she came to be here. Suddenly, none of that seemed to matter anymore.

His hand curled around her neck and he pulled her closer. The kiss intensified and she reached for him, locking onto his forearm to seal the bond. He relieved her of her beer bottle, reluctantly withdrawing to slide it onto the coffee table next to his, the glass bottles clinking against each other. With both hands now free, he leaned closer, cupping her face tenderly, gently probing inside her mouth with his tongue. A slow shiver ran through her as she responded, giving herself over to the sensation of his hands on her. His body was so close to hers she could feel his heart beating, his breath warm and sweet. Time seemed immaterial as her mind emptied.

Then she was floating – literally.

Her eyes shot open. She was in his arms and he was carrying her through to the bedroom.

“Jack,” she whispered breathlessly, doubt creeping in as she watched him negotiate the living room doorway.

“Don’t worry,” he said huskily. “Just trust me.”