She lifted the present up so he could see it and he bounded over. ‘Thank you, Aunt Soph!’
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, bending down as he gave her a hug and a kiss to the cheek. ‘Happy birthday!’
He took the present and raced to the sofa, his friends and Lily all circling around him as he opened it. She looked back in the direction of the door, to where Jack still was. What was he doing?
‘Here...’ Sam appeared at her side, a glass of fizz in each hand and offered one out to her. ‘Drink this; we’re going to need it.’
Sophia laughed but gratefully accepted it, her eyes back on Noah as he ripped through the packaging but her head returned to Jack and his absence. She also knew Sam had noticed, the way her friend’s eyes kept flicking to her, trying to read her, and any minute now she would ask, What have you done with Jack?
She threw back a gulp of fizz and pondered her answer. Sorry, hon, I think I just accosted him in the hallway and now he’s run for his life.
‘You okay?’ Sam eventually asked. ‘You’ve looked strangely flushed since the moment you walked in.’
Sophia almost choked on the bubbles. Trust Sam to say it how it is.
‘I’m fine.’
‘You sure, ’cos you’ve only gotta say the word and I’ll go sort him out.’
She gave Sam a warning glare that was half Thank you and half Don’t even think about it. She just prayed Sam didn’t come right out and say something to him.
Maybe she shouldn’t have spilled her all to her friend last Sunday. But when Sam had turned up on her doorstep at the crack of dawn, a tasty bag of fresh pastries and two coffees in hand, with a please-let-me-live-vicariously-through-you look in her eye, Sophia hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. And, to be fair, Sam had been a good listener, a good listener who’d sympathised greatly with the nature of her predicament, but also advised in no uncertain terms that Sophia should be in it for the fun and shouldn’t expect more. She’d also been quick to add that should he hurt her she’d go after him with her—
‘Nutcracker at the ready, Soph...’
She looked to the doorway and, sure enough, Jack had returned...
* * *
Jack leaned back against the wall and counted to ten, then twenty...then thirty because there was no way he was walking back into a kids’ party in this...situation. He glanced down then breathed some more. His tent-like situation wasn’t the worst of his problems either. It was the fact that he’d been so close to suggesting they end this the one way he knew how: in his bed.
And then what?
She’d have given him her virginity and he would fly away to his next destination—in this case Tokyo—like it meant nothing.
No, just no.
Then why was he still so torn?
Because you want her and you know she’s different; you just don’t understand why.
And it was his job to understand everything: the people he did business with, the people he employed, his daughter. But Sophia was an enigma—the power she wielded over him, the all-consuming need she sparked.
Maybe he really had been off the dating scene too long. He’d had plenty of offers over the years, but none had tempted him. Not like this. And
again, there was the problem—it was her. He wanted her and no one else would do.
Was he really worried about her and her innocence, or was it his own ability to move on that he doubted?
He shook off the crazed thought and headed back inside. Sex could be just that. Sex. It didn’t need to be complicated with more so long as they were honest from the outset.
He would let Lily have her fun, enjoy time with her peers and when it was all over he would take this up with Sophia. They would thrash it out until they both understood what the other wanted from this and there’d be no overstepping that agreement.
He couldn’t deny that the prospect excited him far too much to let his worry back in. There would be time for worry later, much later, when he was far away from London and the past.
‘Ah, Jack, thought you’d got lost between here and the front door for a second,’ Samantha teased, turning away and picking up a chilled bottle of beer. ‘Here’s one I prepped for you.’
She walked up to him, her eyes seeing far too much, he was sure. What exactly did she know? Had Sophia talked to her? And what was she thinking now as she narrowed her gaze on him? Why did women have to talk?