Текст книги "The Redhead Revealed"

Автор книги: Alice Clayton

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 5

The next morning I woke to the sound of the phone ringing shrilly. Jack groaned and dove deeper under the covers, leaving me to roll across him to answer it on his side of the bed.

“No, no, let me get it,” I muttered sarcastically as I grabbed the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?” I asked, yawning deeply.

“Shhh, too loud, too early,” he mumbled from under the covers. I poked my toe into his thigh.

“Good morning. This is your wake-up call,” a chipper voice said.

“Great. I love wake-up calls,” I said and hung up. I leaned back against Jack, listening to his breathing begin to even out already. I squinted at the clock. It was seven-fifteen. I had an early rehearsal today.

We hadn’t been rehearsing on Saturdays, but as we got closer to the preview dates, and Michael continued making daily changes to the script, he’d ramped up our schedule. Jack had an interview planned, but we were both off this afternoon. The plan was a late lunch and maybe a walk in Central Park—very touristy.

Speaking of wake-up calls, I wondered how Jack would feel about a Sheridan Wake-Up Call? I certainly enjoyed his Hamiltonian Wake-Up Calls…

He will love it…

I lifted my head and saw that he really had fallen back asleep, although if I knew my guy, part of him would still be up.

I climbed under the covers and carefully worked my way down, moving stealthily so as not to wake him. I eased my way down his legs and positioned myself right over his boxers. I smiled as I slowly lifted the elastic band and lowered it just enough to sneak my hand in. I grasped him gently and softly, easing him out. I took him into my mouth, enveloping him with my lips and tongue, and felt him harden further. He was still asleep, although I heard his breathing change, coming a little faster. I tightened my mouth and felt him grow harder still.

He moaned slightly, and then I felt his hands move at his sides, under the covers, just inches from my head. I moved my mouth around him again, lightly trailing my fingers up and down his stomach, and I finally heard my name.

“Grace,” he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.

I smiled around him, then took him in deeper, feeling him hit the back of my throat. He groaned, his hands moving down to twist in my hair.

“Mmm, Gracie,” I heard from above the covers, and I knew he was enjoying himself. I grasped the base of him with my hands, my mouth creating a beautiful friction as I moved up and down on his length, causing his hips to buck, keeping time with my movements. He moaned and groaned and held my face in his hands as I continued to pleasure him, hearing him hiss as I altered my grip or sucked harder.

“Grace, oh, God, Grace…mmm….Graaace.” He moaned as he exploded in pure pleasure. I smiled once again, loving how I could affect him this way. I kissed him tenderly, and he sighed in appreciation. I crawled up his body and came to rest with my head on his chest, his arms tightly around me.

“Now that’s the kind of wake-up call I just do not get enough of,” he chuckled.

“I should hope not, love,” I giggled, kissing his chest, feeling the little hairs there tickle my nose.

We lay like this for a few more minutes until my cell phone alarm went off. I’d anticipated a possible romp when we finally went to bed the night before, and I planned ahead with a back-up snooze alarm. I grabbed it and turned it off, then sank back onto the bed.

“Shower?” I asked, turning to look at him. His hair was all over the place, sheets low on his torso, and it was all I could do not to drool all over the one-thousand-thread-count sheets.

“Shower,” he agreed. He threw off the covers, stretched, and started walking to the bathroom.

“Don’t forget the coconuts, love,” he called over his shoulder as I watched his cute little tushy cross the room.

How could I possibly forget the coconuts? I giggled wildly into the pillow like a schoolgirl, then grabbed shower gel from my overnight bag and made my way to where a very cute and very wet Brit waited for me in the shower.

***

In rehearsal later that morning I saw Jack come in the back of the theater. He walked down to the front, listening to me sing. I saw his face change as he saw me in my element. I also saw his eyes dart toward Michael, who was watching and taking notes from the front row, looking at me in a way that was becoming more and more familiar.

I finished the song, my voice ringing out clear and strong to the back of the house. “Hi, Sweet Nuts!” I yelled as the other actors began to leave the stage. He smiled sheepishly and raised a hand in greeting. The others gawked. Calling a grown man Sweet Nuts tended to make people look twice.

Leslie grinned fiendishly at me, and I raised an eyebrow at her. She’d grilled me relentlessly all morning, making me tell her every detail about how Jack and I met and how long we’d been dating. I told her everything, except of course the details I preferred to keep to myself. I did tell her we were keeping our relationship out of the public eye—not only for his sake, but for mine. I explained that our friends knew, and that was fine, and we were not hiding in a cave somewhere, but if asked in an official way, Jack was single.

She agreed, and as the rest of the cast found out, they also agreed to keep our little secret. Most of them had never even heard of Jack, and only a few were aware of the buzz his film was generating. I knew that would change in the next few weeks, and I was glad they could get to know him now—before he was on every talk show in America.

I jumped off the stage and started for him. “Hey.” I smiled, closing the distance between us quickly.

“Hey yourself,” he answered, smiling back at me with that sexy grin.

I kissed him swiftly, and Leslie swooned behind me. “Wow, wow, wow, wow…” I heard her chant.

“Shut it, Leslie.” I laughed, kissing on my Brit again.

Jack laughed through my kiss, and we finally broke apart.

“Ahem,” I heard Michael cough and turned to look. He looked at me, then at Jack. “Jack, good to see you again. You having fun in New York?” he asked.

“So far, so good. Of course, we’ve barely left the hotel, but we’re definitely having fun,” Jack said, his hands drifting down to linger on my ass. I rolled my eyes, knowing I was in for another round of verbal dick measurement.

Leslie continued her wow chant behind me.

“Good, good. Grace, remember I need you Monday,” Michael said pointedly, staring at Jack’s hand, then at me.

“You need her Monday, do you?” Jack asked. I poked him in the side.

“We’re working on one last round of rewrites, and I need her input,” Michael said.

“Michael, we discussed this. With Jack here, I really don’t think I’ll have the time. Does it have to be Monday? Can’t it wait until after he leaves?” I pouted, loathing the idea of not spending as much time with Jack as I could while he was here.

“When are you leaving, Jack?” Michael asked. “I mean, so I know when Grace is available.”

“I’m leaving Tuesday night. As for whether Grace is available, you’ll have to ask her,” he said, his voice taking a distinctive tone.

These two…

“Okay. Michael, I’m available again Wednesday morning. If it’s still cool with you, I’d really like the time until then to spend with Jack. Now, I’m going to get my bag. You two are both pretty, so you play nice. Leslie, quit saying wow,” I said, spinning on my heel and walking backstage to get my stuff. Jack gave me a playful swat on the ass as I moved away, earning him a shocked look from me.

Honestly.

Leslie followed, and as soon as we were out of earshot, she started laughing. “Holy shit, girl. Those two are totally fighting over you!”

“What? Oh, please. Michael’s just concentrating on the show right now, and he wants to make sure everything’s right when we open.”

“Grace, come on. Are you fucking kidding me? Are you blind?” she shrieked loudly.

“Hey, pipe down. Quit stirring the pot. There’s nothing going on with me and Michael. You know how long we’ve known each other. He tends to be a bit territorial with me. He was like this when we were in college…” I stopped short, thinking about what I’d just said.

He was like this whenever I was dating anyone in college—every time I brought a new guy into our group of friends.

Oh, man…

Seriously, Grace. Duh…

Leslie immediately reanimated. “Holy shit, did something happen between you two back then?”

“Um, well, see, the thing is…” I started, wondering how to explain exactly what we were back then.

“I knew it. I freaking knew it! He’s totally still igging’ on you, Grace. And damn—Michael’s such a cutie! Fuck, man, you have Jack Hamilton on one coast and Michael O’Connell on the other. Seriously, when I grow up I want to be just like you,” she finished, making me roll my eyes.

“Leslie, calm down, really. First of all, Jack is my boyfriend, and I love him very much. Michael’s a great friend, and someone I’m really glad to have back in my life. As for what happened between us, that was years and years ago, and it isn’t a part of what’s going on here now. So enough with the love triangle stuff, okay?” I gave her a firm look.

She just smiled in a way I knew meant she would not be letting this go anytime soon. I sighed and grabbed my bag.

When I returned to the theater, I saw the two men engaged in what looked like a very interesting conversation. I sidled up to them, Leslie in tow. “Okay, dickheads, enough boy talk. Jack, we ready to roll?”

“Ready when you are, love,” he answered, grasping my outstretched hand.

I said goodbye to Leslie, who was staring at Jack as though she wanted to pounce on him. He smiled at her, and I could tell he enjoyed watching her turn red. He was learning to revel in his new status as a heartbreaker.

I said goodbye to Michael, and as Jack shook his hand and told him he’d see him next visit, I looked at them nervously. I wanted them to be friends, but I wasn’t sure that would ever happen.

Jack and I walked out of the theater, hand in hand. Once we were outside, Jack pulled me to him and hugged me tightly.

“Hey, George, what’s with the rib cracking?” I laughed, struggling a little in his very tight grasp.

“Gracie, I love you so much,” he said.

“Mmm, I love you too,” I murmured sweetly in his ear. My hands found their way into his hair, my nails scratching and soothing him. He relaxed his hold on me, but only slightly. I stroked his hair, scratched his scalp, and kissed his neck below his ear the way I knew he liked.

He sighed, then pulled away from me slightly. “Grace, you’ve been holding out on me,” he said in a warning tone.

“I have? About what?” I asked.

“Why the hell have you never sung like that for me before? That was amazing!” he cried, brushing my hair back from my face. I blushed, thinking of the song I’d been singing when he came in.

“I don’t know, I sing for you all the time,” I protested, trying to make light of it.

“No, not like that. I’m truly in awe. Not only are you sexy beyond belief, your talent is just, well, I am actually speechless!” he exclaimed, prattling on like a silly schoolboy.

“I’m glad you got to see some of what I’ve been working on. I really hope you can come back for the previews,” I said. “They should be in between your premieres.”

“Grace, I wouldn’t be anywhere but the front row. Do you think you’ll have time to come to L.A. for my premiere?” he asked, seeming a little nervous.

He knew how I felt about all the cameras and paparazzi. He wouldn’t be able to walk the red carpet with me, but I was very happy he wanted me there at all.

“You want me to come to your premiere?” I asked, smiling hugely.

“Silly girl, how could you even ask that question? You’ll get to meet my family—at least my dad for sure,” he said, laughing when he saw my face change from incredulous, to thrilled, to panic-stricken.

“Meet your family? Your dad?” I asked, frozen.

“Yes, love, you’ll be at the same place, same time. I think it’s only appropriate that you meet them. I know they’re dying to meet you.” He tugged on my arm, as I was now rooted to the spot.

“You want me to meet your family at the premiere of Time in Hollywood? And to recap, you’re Jack Fucking Hamilton, and you claim you’re in love with me?” I said, cocking my head to one side.

“I am in love with you, Nuts Girl,” he said, smiling.

I started pinching myself furiously.

“Hey, Crazy, you’re freaking me out a little. Stop doing that.” He laughed, grasping my wrists and holding them firmly at my sides.

“I’m trying to make myself wake up. There’s no way in hell this is actually happening. It’s too good!” I exclaimed, laughing.

“If you were dreaming, would you be feeling this?” he asked, kissing up my neck toward my ear.

“Mmm, I’ve had dreams like this, yes,” I said, closing my eyes.

“Would you be feeling this?” he asked, sucking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling. I twisted in his arms, my skin breaking out in goose-bumps. He loved when my body reacted to his touch.

“Mmm, this is starting to feel very familiar,” I added, throwing my arms back around his neck and pulling him closer.

“And if you were dreaming, would we be on our way to get frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity?” he whispered in my ear.

At that, my eyes sprang open, and I shook my head to clear it.

“Thanks for refocusing me, Sweet Nuts. Let’s hit it,” I said, walking us with a purpose up the stairs and out of the building.

“That’s my girl.” He laughed at me as I hailed a cab quickly and pushed him into it. He knew to never get in the way of Grace and her sweets.

***

After a lovely lunch followed by some even lovelier frozen hot chocolate, we headed over to the park. I came running here at least three times a week, and although it was a very touristy place to visit, it was a great park. People who’d lived in Manhattan for years used it daily. It was really like everyone’s backyard, in a town where no one had a backyard.

It was a gorgeous fall day, and with the leaves crunching underfoot and the smell of autumn in the air, it was easy to forget we weren’t out in the country. We spent the afternoon there, just walking and talking and holding hands. I’d actually relented today and let him wear his stupid ball cap for two reasons: One, it was chilly. Two, the cap made it harder for him to be recognized. And I did have to admit, it drew my attention to his face, which I never tired of looking at.

We were relaxed and happy, walking off the enormous amount of chocolate we had consumed. At one point he laughed at me, calling my attention to the fact that during our pig-out I’d apparently been humming “White Christmas” while I slurped. He swore I had a penchant for singing Christmas carols under my breath. I didn’t actually remember this, my attention having been totally focused on the concoction in front of me. A frozen hot chocolate of this magnitude was a true indulgence for me—a real splurge I was already calculating how I’d work off—and I didn’t miss a drop.

Now I was totally focused on the equally yummy Hamilton in front of me. We sat on a bench at the Plaza end of the park, holding hands and people-watching. There were several kids playing on the edge of the little pond, and we laughed as we watched them kick around a soccer ball. Once it came flying over to where we were sitting, and Jack jumped up to kick it back to them. The kids shouted their thanks, and he came back to sit next to me, smiling as he smoothed my hair back from my face. I was still thinking about meeting his family, father especially. My mind kept bumping into it no matter how I tried to not think about it. He watched me closely, and I smiled.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“Thought you Brits used shillings and sixpence and whatnot,” I said.

“Do all Americans get their knowledge of British culture from Mary Poppins?”

“Yes, although I also got a bit from Dickens.”

“Ah, yes. Another reliable source for current culture.”

He laughed as I kissed him on the nose. We snuggled together for another moment.

“Nice deflection, Grace, but what are you thinking about?” he pressed.

“Honestly?”

“Yes, please,” he encouraged, hugging me tighter.

“Meeting your family. It makes me a little nervous,” I replied.

“Why nervous?”

“I dunno. Take your pick. I’m considerably older than you, you’re about to be this huge star, not to mention the fact that I’m a Yank…” I trailed off, the words I’d just said hanging in the air. Jack was laughing though.

“A Yank? Seriously, where do you come up with this stuff? Mary Poppins again?”

“No, this time European Vacation. But seriously, Jack. What if your dad doesn’t like me?”

“European Vacation,” he snorted, then looked back at the group of kids playing. “My dad loves any girl who can cook. He always said that was one of the reasons he fell in love with my mum—her cooking. She used to make this shepherd’s pie. Oh, it was the best, she would—” he started, then stopped, looking sad all of a sudden. I took his hands again and wrapped him more firmly around my waist.

“You were sixteen, right? Sixteen when she passed away?” I asked quietly. He nodded.

“I bet she’d be proud of you right now. Look at everything you’ve accomplished at such a young age!” I said, scratching his scalp the way I knew he liked. He leaned into my hand, but was still quiet. We soaked up the fresh air and the sounds of the city.

“Grace, how come you never talk about your parents?” he asked, breaking me out of my spell.

“My what? My parents?”

“Yes, you never mention them. Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever said a word about them. Where are they?” he asked, still leaning into my hand, which had stilled.

“My mom died when I was a freshman in college—boating accident. It happened fast. I didn’t even make it home from school before she was gone. She was only forty-one,” I answered, closing my eyes and remembering how she used to make me scrambled eggs and toast every morning, without fail. All these years and her breakfasts were still the first thing that came to mind when I thought about her. That and her perfume.

“Grace, I’m so sorry,” he said, clutching me closer.

“I’m sorry too—for you. What a pair we are.” I laughed hollowly.

“And your dad? How did he take it?”

“You’d have to ask him, if you can find him. I haven’t spoken to him since I was in third grade. He left my mom and me high and dry. Never looked back—no letters, no phone calls, nothing,” I said, my voice empty. My skin prickled a bit. I never talked about this stuff. It made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t do uncomfortable.

“He just left?”

“Yes, he just left. Can we talk about something else? My dad was a deadbeat. No need to discuss,” I said, just as the soccer ball came our way again. This time I rose and kicked it back, my foot connecting angrily and sailing it over the lot of them. A few of them cheered my kicking ability, and I curtsied. I sat down next to him on the bench again, and we continued to watch.

“Cute kids,” he said, watching them play.

“Yes, cute,” I replied, watching them as well.

“Do you want kids, Grace?” he asked, turning to look at me.

“What, right now? Today?” I teased, standing up and depositing myself on his lap. He made room for me, tucking me in with his arms around me and his chin on my shoulder.

“Obviously not today, Crazy. Although later on today I’ll be glad to demonstrate how babies are made.” He laughed, cuddling me to him. “But really, do you want kids someday?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, I think if I wanted them, I’d have thought more seriously about it by now,” I said. “What about you? I mean, not now, but do you want kids someday?” I asked, shuffling around a bit so I was looking down at him.

“Hmm, I don’t think so either. I don’t particularly care for children—at least not in the sense that I want any of my own,” he said, kissing my fingertips, each one in turn, lavishing attention on my pinkies in particular.

“You might change your mind as you get older,” I said.

“Don’t you think you might change your mind?” he asked, still kissing my fingers.

“Eh, I don’t have all the years in front of me like you do. My choices are a little more finite. Maybe I will, but I doubt it,” I answered, sighing happily as he placed a kiss on my palm. I laughed a little, and he looked at me curiously.

“What’s funny, love?”

“It’s funny that you’re dating a woman in her thirties, and you managed to find the one who doesn’t seem to have a biological clock—at least not one that’s ticking,” I said, planting a kiss on top of his head and pulling him to his feet.

We began to walk back toward the Plaza to catch a cab.

“You really don’t want kids, Grace? I mean, you seem like you’d make a great mom…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, I think I would too. But that doesn’t mean I should have kids—does that make sense? There are plenty of women who have kids and do great with them, but that maybe didn’t really in their true heart of hearts want them. Not every woman is made to have a family. My friends feel like my family, and now there’s this Brit who I’m taking care of. He does take up a lot of my time.” I laughed, straightening his shirt and zipping his jacket up further against the cold.

“Hmm…tell me more about this Brit,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist as we walked.

“He’s quite handsome and very sweet. A little on the gay side, but then again, he is British,” I continued.

“Of course, of course,” he agreed.

“And I love him—quite a lot, actually,” I finished, leaning my head against his arm as we walked.

“Hmm…I see. He sounds fantastic, obviously. Does he love you as well?”

“He says he does, and I mean, really, how could he not?” I giggled, doing a little pirouette on the path in front of us.

He stopped to watch me, then caught my hand and pulled me back to him. “How could he not?” he confirmed, and kissed me.

We smooched for a moment, sweetly and softly, and then went to grab our cab. Neither of us heard the clicking of the camera.