How Forever Feels (19 page)

For fuck sake, man up, you're not fourteen anymore.

“Right.” He inhaled a long breath then exhaled slowly. “Okay. Genie. I owe you everything, we both know that, and no matter what happens here, I'll always be grateful for what you and Burt did for me. I don't expect you to understand this or support me, but I have to tell you, because it's killing me and you deserve to know before I—”

“Ohmygod, it's about Maya.”

“What?!” It took him a good couple of seconds to pick his jaw up from where it hung—he'd have sworn it hit the floor—and all the while Genie just kept shaking her head.

“Oh, Jack, sweetie, I've been hoping and praying for so long that you'd gotten over her.”

“That I
what
?”

“I really thought you had, too, you know. I mean, after that whole mess with Will and her, I thought for sure we'd seen the last of you, but you stood by him, and you never once said anything about her, so I just thought…”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Watch your language.”

Jack buried his face in his hands and tried to even out his breathing before looking up at her again. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew, sweetheart. I knew the first time you and Will brought her home.” She scooted down so she was closer to him, close enough to take his hands in hers. “What I never knew was why you didn't say something.”

“Why I—?” he choked. “Because she was Will's, and because Will's your son and I owed you. Why didn't
you
say something?”

A wave of guilt crashed over Genie's face. She stared down at the floor for a few seconds before finally meeting his gaze again.

“He's my son, Jack, and I love him more than anything, but his choice in women up to that point wasn't exactly stellar, so when he showed up with Maya…” She trailed off over a slow shrug. “God help me, I wanted them to work out so badly, I'd have done just about anything, which you already know. And I'm so very sorry about that, Jack.”

“What do I already know? What are you talking about?”

“I never wanted this day to come, Jack. Not ever.”

Genie pinched her lips together, then got up and left the room, returning a couple seconds later with a box of tissues, a few of which she already had pressed under her eyes.

“I knew how you felt, not only about Maya, but about us, Burt and me. We didn't ever mean for you to feel so indebted to us, especially after what you did for Burt but you never seemed to get past it, and…” Choking on a short sob, she grabbed some more tissues and balled them up under her nose. “I took advantage of that, Jack, and I'm so, so sorry.”

“What I did for Burt?” Jack leaned closer to her, so his butt was barely on the chair anymore, but when he tried to pull her hands down, she jerked them away. “I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is, I'm sure—”

“The rehearsal dinner! Oh my God, Jack, I'm so sorry. I knew what happened at Will's bachelor party. I heard you yelling at him about it, and I was desperate. If Maya found out, she'd never have married him, and we all knew she was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

She stopped to blow her nose as the truth started to twist inside Jack's stomach.

“I needed to make sure you didn't have a moment of conscience with her, so I said that horrible thing about how if it…if it wasn't for us, you'd…you'd probably be in jail and that…that you owed us.”

The sob that ripped out of Genie's throat almost tore Jack in half.

“I didn't mean it, Jack. I didn't. I was just so worried something would happen between the rehearsal and the wedding, and I knew you always felt like you owed us, so I used that. I used it to push you down and I'm so sorry.”

Dumbfounded, Jack slid completely off the chair and landed on the floor with his legs stretched out under the coffee table.

“You knew?” Jack couldn't have moved if he wanted to; it was like his limbs were boneless. “All this time, you knew.”

Genie pinched her lips together again, nodding slowly. “I kept hoping you'd find someone else, like that nice girl, Christine. Why couldn't you just love her, Jack? She was so sweet, and smart and…and…”

“She wasn't Maya.”

“Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry.” She hiccuped over another sob. “Does Will know?”

Jack shook his head numbly. “No. He knows I've seen her a few times, but he doesn't know…this.”

He'd have to tell Will, but first…
shit
…first he needed to find a way to wrap his head around this, and he wasn't entirely sure he could do that sitting there on her living room floor.

“You've never owed us anything, Jack.”

He must have given her quite a look, because a whole fresh batch of tears started before she said anything else.

“Will mentioned you a couple times to us, but it wasn't until he told us how often you showed up at school with black eyes and stitches that we started asking questions. We didn't know you were in the system, not at first, but then…” She swallowed hard and dabbed her eyes. “I had no idea Burt had been in foster care. He'd told me his parents died when he was young, but he wouldn't talk about anything after that. There was a whole block of his life I knew nothing about until he found out about you.”

When Jack looked at her that time, she just shook her head.

“Will and Tammy still don't know and he made me swear to never tell them what he went through, but when Will told us you were in a group home, Burt couldn't get you out of there fast enough.” Genie nodded slowly, licking her lips. “There was so much paperwork, which of course there should be, but by the time it all went through and they finally brought you here…”

She didn't have to finish, because Jack remembered it crystal clear. He'd walked into their house with his right arm in a cast, his left in a sling, and the last green shades of a bruise under his eye. And Burt had stood there almost vibrating, because he knew. He knew what Jack had been through because he'd probably had the same thing happen to him.

“He had to get you out of there, Jack, not just for you, but for him. I don't know how to explain it except to say that by saving you from another day there, it was like you saved him from another day there. He was a completely different man after you got here, like he'd been drowning and you saved him.”

No. No, that couldn't be right. Burt saved Jack; he hadn't done anything for Burt besides eat all his food and rack up the electric bill.

“Genie, I don't—” He stopped, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “I don't even know what to say right now.”

“I'm sure you're furious with me and I don't blame you.” Her cheeks looked drawn as she nodded down at her hands twisting around the wad of tissues. “What can I do to make this right for you?”

Furious?
That was only one of the things he was right then. He was also confused, blindsided, and torn between feeling such deep loyalty for Burt while feeling so betrayed by Genie.

“Jack?” Genie's pinched voice jarred him back, making him focus on the living room. “Please let me make this right.”

“How?” He blew out a snorting breath as he let his head drop back against the chair. “How are we ever going to make this right? The whole thing is fu—screwed up.”

“I don't know,” she said. “And I probably have no right to ask this, but please, Jack, please wait until after the wedding to tell Will.”

She had to be shittin' him.

Lifting his head off the chair, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “This isn't about Will anymore, Genie.”

“I know.” She stuffed the used tissues in her robe pocket and reached for a clean one. “But he's my son, Jack. I need for him to be happy and I think maybe Stella—”

Jack was already on his feet and heading for the door. The last thing he heard before the door slammed behind him was Genie sobbing.

“Seven…seven…seven…”

Monica Geller,
Friends,
“The One with Phoebe's Uterus”

Maya's attempt to sleep had lasted about six and a half minutes before she threw the blankets off and went to scrub the bathroom. When that was done, she reorganized the cutlery drawer, because…well, why not? Ellie would have had a stroke if she knew Maya kept big spoons with the small ones or that the steak knives weren't all facing the same way, but now they could all rest easy, because everything was as it should be.

With that taken care of, there wasn't anything left to do except the laundry, so while her third cup of Darjeeling steeped, Maya picked up the clothes she'd dropped earlier and tossed them in the washing machine. The too-small washing machine that couldn't hold a single blanket but was the perfect size for a person who lived alone.

In fact, her loads were so small there was still room in the machine, so Maya went on the hunt for her black hoodie, the one she usually wore when she went out with Jack to run Pete around the trails. She loved that dog, but holy jumpin' did he shed. The hoodie wasn't in her room, or the hamper, and it wasn't…

She'd left it in her car.

With her keys in hand, she stuffed her feet into her bright-yellow gumboots and headed out in the rain to her car.

“Jack?!”

There he was, absolutely drenched, leaning against the bumper of his Jeep with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“It's the middle of the night—what are you doing here?” God, how long had he been out there? She'd heard him peel out just after she'd come inside, so he must've come back, but why? And when? “Come on, I'll get some towels.”

Forgetting the hoodie, she grabbed his wrist and tugged as hard as she could until he finally stood up and stumbled after her through the door. He hadn't made a sound, and the look on his face—such confusion—maybe he was hypothermic.

“Shit, Jack.”

Okay, what had Carter taught them all about hypothermia? Warm the body first, not the hands or feet. No! First she needed to get him inside and into some dry clothes, and then she'd warm him up. Right? Was that the right order? God she hoped so.

There wasn't a hope she had dry clothes that'd fit him, but she had plenty of blankets, so those would have to do. Oh God, what if she couldn't get him up the stairs? Her phone was up there and she didn't care what time of the freakin' night it was, first thing she was going to do was call Carter.

“Okay,” she said, trying to sound calmer than she actually was. “You stay right here, okay? I'll be right back. Just stay here, okay?”

She flipped the lock behind Jack and started up the stairs, but she'd only made it up to the fifth one before she was grabbed from behind and spun around.

“Wha—?”

His kiss swallowed the rest of her gasp, his lips hungry and hell-bent on getting their fill, teasing and tasting as he climbed the first step. Maya staggered back a little, her leg hitting the back of the step, but Jack was right there, one hand pressed against her back, the other fisting in her hair, holding her close, even after his first kiss ended.

She barely had time to catch a breath before he kissed her again, slowly and not nearly as desperate.

“What's going on?” She tried to wipe some of the rain from his face, but all she ended up doing was cradling his face in her palms and repeating her question, this time trying to stop her heart from shattering right there in the stairwell. “Oh, Jack, what are you doing?”

And then her heart did shatter, but in a much better way than she expected.

“If you have to ask,” he said, nudging his nose against hers. “I'm obviously doing it wrong. Let me try again.”

He didn't even wait for her to answer, just leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her cheek, just like he'd done so many times before, only this time…oh sweet Lord, this wasn't like any of those other times.

Maya slid her fingers through his dripping wet hair as the warmth of his touch exploded through her. He nuzzled her cheek, his lips brushing over hers as he teased first one corner of her mouth then the other, before he finally kissed her again—and holy crap on a cracker, everything was
so much better
when he was the one doing the kissing.

With one hand holding her steady, he slid his free hand along her jaw until his big palm cupped the side of her face with a strength and tenderness she never imagined a guy his size could possess. He deepened the kiss slowly, his lips moving over hers as if they'd done it a million times before, as if he knew exactly how she wanted to be kissed, which was crazy, because up until the second he did it, she didn't even know herself.

She didn't know
anything
anymore. Didn't know how to breathe normally, how to form a coherent thought, and she sure as hell didn't know how to do anything but whimper when he stopped kissing her.

Even with his hand still on her back, she couldn't find balance, not with her head spinning like that, and before she could do anything about it, she landed hard on the step behind her.

“But you…and…what about…?”

“Fuck 'em,” he growled as he bent over her to kiss her again.

“Jack.” She pressed her palms against his cheeks, holding him close so she could look right into his eyes. If there was even the slightest flicker of uncertainty…there wasn't.

“You just gonna sit there?” he asked. “Or can we keep this moving?”

“No, I just—” Finally able to blink some of the fog from her brain, Maya crab-walked up the next couple of steps, grinning up at him the whole time. “Need a little motivation.”

“Is that right?” Still towering over her, his hands pressed flat against the walls, he leaned in and kissed her again, then again when she scooted up the next step. “Four years, Snip. I've waited four years.”

Up another step, she tucked her fingers around the neck of his T-shirt and tugged him down again.

“Then another four minutes isn't going to kill you, is it? Besides, it's not easy getting up the stairs this way, you know, especially dressed like this.”

It was only then that Jack actually stopped and looked down at what she was wearing, just as her gumboot caught the back edge of her nightshirt again.

“What the hell?” Horror, that's what flashed across his face. Abject horror. “Jeezus, Snip, where do you shop?”

“Shut up!”

“Well, come on…gumboots?” His eyes on hers, he grinned slowly as he reached down and yanked one boot off, then the other, tossing both to the bottom of the stairs. “Of all the things I imagined taking off you, gumboots were never—”

The second his fingers touched her foot, he stopped, his grin dropped, and he just stared back at her for a second.

“You've got to be shittin' me.”

“Wool,” she said, wiggling her socked toes against his fingers. “These old buildings get cold, you know.”

“I don't even…I just can't…” He never did tell her what he “didn't even” or “just couldn't,” because he was too busy trying to wrestle her socks off while she was busy crab-walking up a couple more steps.

The hardwood was cold under her feet, but before she could complain, he wrapped his still cool hands around her feet and rubbed gently.

“Okay,” he breathed, choking over a short laugh. “If that's what you wear on your feet, I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little scared to find out what else you've got on under that…that…jeezus, I don't even know what that is—a
muumuu
?”

“It's a nightshirt, thank you very much.” Maya lifted her brow and smirked as she shimmied up a couple more steps—good grief, how many more were there? “And I'm doing laundry, so besides these tights…”

He stepped up after her, head tipped to the side a little, waiting for her to finish. She'd give him another second or two before she…ah, there it was.

“Ohh.” It came out over a choke and by the time he'd caught his breath again, Maya was already standing at the top of the stairs. “
Damn
, Snip.”

He didn't move from where he stood dripping three steps down, just blew out a slow breath as his gaze moved slowly up the length of her nightshirt, hem to neck, then back down again to where it hung halfway past her knees.

“Jack? You okay?”

“I…uh…what?” He seemed to be breathing awfully fast, and when he tried to move up to the next step, he had to grab the railing.

“Oh shit. I knew I should have called Carter.” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, she tugged him up the last few steps, muttering the whole time. “Dizzy, trouble speaking, rapid breathing, and you look a little confused. How's the heart rate?
Jack?
”

“Feels like it's about to explode inside my chest.”

“Okay, come on, stay with me.” She pulled him inside the apartment, tugging down the zipper of his jacket and muttering the treatment steps to herself. “Remove wet clothes. Gently. No unnecessary movements—shit—sorry about that, Jack. Warm dry blankets, no rubbing.”

“Uh, Snip?”

“Yeah?” His jacket clung to his shoulders, making it that much harder to tug down his arms.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Shh.” There, jacket off. “Carter taught us how to treat hypothermia, I got this.”

“Hypo…what?” He grabbed her hands and held them still about a fraction of a breath away from his fly. “I'm not hypothermic.”

She stopped trying to tug her hands away and finally looked up at him.

“But you're soaking wet and you had symptoms—the increased heart rate…the dizziness on the stairs…the…the…”

The more she said, the more he grinned until she trailed off and grinned back at him.

“Four years,” he said. “Can you blame me?”

“You idiot! I was all ready to call Carter and have him come down here in the middle of the freakin' night!”

“There's only one person who can help me out here, and it sure as hell ain't Carter.” His laugh, warm and slow, made her blush. “Besides, shared body heat is far more effective than blankets. Just sayin'.” Maya pulled her hands away and set them on her hips. “Are you done?”

“Uh…” His smart-ass grin faltered a little. “Yeah.”

“Good. Then if you're not actually dying on me, and if it's not too much trouble, because I'd hate to put you out or anything, would it be possible for you to stop standing there and maybe…oh, I don't know…kiss me again before I forget what it feels like?”

With about as much speed as an arctic glacier, he curled his fingers around her hips and finally lifted her up just like he'd done before, grinning down at her with one of those slow Jack grins that shot straight from his mouth to girlie parts she'd almost forgotten she had.

“We need to get you some stilts.”

“And we need to get you some dry clothes,” she said, linking her ankles and arms around him.

“Body warmth, remember?”

He kissed her again, so excruciatingly slowly she thought she'd melt right down his chest, which, she had to admit, wouldn't be such a bad way to go. His hands moved with featherlight glances, igniting her skin everywhere they landed; her cheeks, her neck, her hair, even burning through her nightshirt and tights.

Wait—if his hands were there…
and
there
…

“I'm going to fall,” she gasped.

“No you won't. Just hang on.”

His lips pressed against hers, gentle and demanding, soft and firm, his tongue dancing with hers before dipping to taste her bottom lip.

She squeezed her legs tighter around his waist, smiling against his mouth when he groaned, then wrapped one hand around his neck while trailing the other down his chest until she could grab a handful of his shirt—the only dry thing on him—and tug it up. Not the easiest thing to do when she was still wrapped around him the way she was, but she kept on tugging until it finally pulled free.

“Did you have it duct-taped down or something?” With a lot of wiggling between kisses, she managed to wrangle his arms out of the sleeves one at a time and then finally up and over his head. “This is more of a workout than I've had in months.”

She'd seen him mostly naked before, so she thought she knew what to expect, but holy crap it was a thousand times better in person than it was over video chat.

He'd barely moved while she'd tugged his shirt over his head, but when she pressed her palms flat against his chest, he sucked in a breath and held it until she leaned in and kissed him. With his arms folded under her butt, she relaxed her grip on him a little, took his beautiful face between her hands and started with his mouth, teasing a low growl out of him as she moved her lips lower, across his jaw and down the side of his neck, where his pulse was beating so hard.

With every kiss, his hands spread wider on her back, sliding upward, slowly, slowly, pulling her nightshirt with them. She slipped her arms out, one at a time, then wrapped both hands around his neck as he freed her from the shirt and tossed it on top of his. If the look on his face wasn't enough to send her over the edge, the feel of his hands against her bare skin almost did her in right there.

“Ho-ly shit, Snip.”

“Jack.” Hands pressed so very lightly against his chest, she closed her eyes and breathed out his name a second time. “I gotta tell you, I've imagined this happening about six ways from Sunday, but I never once imagined it happening here behind my couch.”

There it was—that Jack smile—setting fire to all sorts of new parts inside her as he carried her through the bedroom door.

“Behind the couch, on the couch, bed, table, floor, desk, wall, elevator, car, beach, shower, theater…” He paused long enough to lean in and kiss her throat, her collarbone, and then…Maya sighed…along the top of her breast. “Your imagination needs some work, Snip.”