Page 10 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
And I’m feeling . . . good.
Tears are rolling down my face by the time the second song starts, and after one lands on Jack’s arm, he tilts my head up. “What’s wrong, Audrey?”
I press my face into his shirt. “I’m scared,” I admit for the first time since he told me the truth about his work, about what he’d have to do very soon. “What if tonight is terrible and then . . . and then . . .”
There’s no way I can finish that sentence. Jack’s body tenses and guilt washes over me, causing me to cry harder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promised you that I wouldn’t be afraid if you married me and it’s only been an hour and there’s already a broken promise wedged between us.”
He holds me tighter, stroking my hair with one hand, still swaying to the music. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. But you’re not allowed to ask me to stay and then hate me for leaving. But you can ask me to stay.”
I lift my eyes to meet his. “I won’t, I swear.”
A sad smile spreads across his face and he wipes away my tears with his thumbs. “I know you won’t.”
My ear returns to its place over Jack’s heart, listening to the steady rhythm. “I might ask you to stay. I might get desperate and start begging in the next twelve hours, but I could never hate you.”
He sighs against my hair, his lips resting on the top of my head. “No, maybe not you. I don’t think you know how to hate.”
“What if I want to write you?”
“Audrey,” he warns.
“I know.” I push up onto my toes and press my lips against his neck. I inhale his scent and I’m reminded of the first time I ever got close enough to memorize him by smell instead of only by sight or sound.
My mother and I had been in the sanctuary rehearsing a piece for an upcoming audition, when I spotted Jack, shirtless, sweaty, sporting a tool belt, and staring at me with an intensity that caused me to screw up my song.
“Audrey?” Mom said, her fingers freezing over the piano keys.
My face flamed. “Sorry, my fault.”
I watched her gaze travel over to where Jack leaned against the first pew in the empty sanctuary. She hopped up from the bench and stacked the music pages back together. “Dinner at our house tonight, right, Jack?”
My mouth opened, ready to question these evening plans. It was the first I’d heard of it. But I clamped my lips shut when I saw Jack nod. Mom’s eyes bounced between the two of us and then she flashed one of those corny grins and mumbled something about returning a phone call before leaving us alone at the altar. It occurred to me right then that my parents might actually be trying to fix me up with a boy. Well, a man, technically.
Jack fiddled with his tool belt. “I didn’t realize secular music was allowed inside the sanctuary?”
“I know, right?” I smiled and took seat at the piano so I could gather up my sheet music. “I’ll have to hide this from the choir director or Mom and I will end up being the gossip of the week.”
“I think Mrs. Leary’s alleged relationship with the summer help will cover the church gossip column for several weeks.” He sat beside me on the piano bench and laughed when he saw my mouth hanging open in shock. He shrugged and placed his hands over the keys. “I’m very good at noticing things.”
I stared hard at the side of his face. “I’ve noticed.”
He began playing a soft melody, first with his right hand, then adding the left, causing his shoulder to bump into mine. “Like you,” he said quietly over the piano. “You have very nice, nonthreatening parents. You’re not forced into silence, which is what I originally assumed, being the preacher’s daughter and all. You’re just shy. But you’re not shy when you sing.”
Normally, this would be the point where I’d blush and look down at my hands, probably find an excuse to leave, but I couldn’t look away. Maybe because he’d dismissed me so abruptly the first time we’d met and I knew he didn’t really want to like me. He didn’t want to like anyone.
“I think it’s hardest to be me,” I said practically whispering the words, admitting a truth I’d never let myself verbally express before. “Not that my life is difficult. It’s pretty simple and boring, to be honest, but it’s easier to open up as a character in a play or under the cloak of someone else’s lyrics.”
His fingers froze over the keys, the silence rushing to my ears, creating this buzz of anticipation. “I pretend to be someone else all the time. I lie. That’s what I do for my job, Audrey. You asked me that a while ago and I owe you an answer, but just you, okay?”
He lied for a living? Like a con man?
Jack’s eyes met mine, his hands falling into his lap. “It’s dangerous and people die.” He sucked in a shaky breath, still holding my gaze. “People die all the time and I have to go back in a few months and there’s . . . there’s something missing inside here.” He placed his palm against his bare chest, right over his heart, “and I don’t know what that’s going to do to me. Am I going to turn into a monster? Does wanting revenge mean that I don’t have a soul anymore?”
So many emotions filled my heart right then and all I wanted to do was transfer some of it to this man beside me, desperate for help. Empty and confused. The heat had been building between us for several minutes, and it didn’t take much for me to lean forward and touch my lips to Jack’s.
I’d only kissed one boy in my entire life and that had been an awkward disaster. But this . . . this wasn’t for me. It wasn’t my kiss. It was Jack’s.
His body stiffened, his eyes stayed open and locked on mine, but he didn’t push me away or resist. I almost smiled as I backed away from him because the feelings that stirred inside me couldn’t have happened with a soulless man. He was wrong and I just needed some time to prove it to him. I slid back off the bench and stood, keeping my focus on Jack’s stunned face. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner. You know where we live, right? Behind the church, across the cornfield.”
