Her lips curved up slightly, and my eyes focused on that. Her smile was what had gotten me into this mess that first time we were introduced.
I just stared at her as a frown replaced her smile.
“Jack? Are you sure everything is okay? Is there something I can help with?”
Unfortunately, everything wasn’t okay. I was losing control, and it was all because of her, all because of the guilt I couldn’t get rid of. If I kept going down the same path, all I’d accomplish would be making her hate me. Cynthia’s words came back to me and I considered them for a second, considered telling Rose. Maybe if she heard everything, maybe if she knew what had happened and what I was thinking—I decided against it. I wasn’t ready to lose her just yet.
If I could find the courage to tell her one day and hope she’d still stay, things would have to change—drastically.
I’d need all the time I could get to try to make her feel something for me, and maybe along the way I would come up with a good way to admit that I’d deceived her from the very beginning, to admit that the reason I offered to marry her wasn’t to have someone to attend the parties with. I hated any and all events, rarely went to them. It wasn’t to appear to be a family man to appease clients, and it definitely wasn’t because I was interested in the property. I could’ve bought ten of them if I was so inclined.
But, to be able to tell her all of that, I’d have to forget about the guilt that was eating me up on the inside and focus on getting and keeping her attention.
Coming to a concrete decision, I focused on Rose. “Everything is great. Are you free to have dinner with me again tonight?”
That piqued her interest. “Takeout?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Can we have pizza again?”
“If you’ll let me take a look at your knees, I’ll think about it.”
The look she gave me…
“That’s sounded a little kinky, Jack.”
The sweet smile on her lips that I had craved to be on the receiving end of for so long…
I was ruined.
In the end, we had the pizza, but she didn’t let me get a look at the damage to her knees. When it came to Rose, I knew I had my work cut out for me.
Good thing, after getting to know her and spending so much time with her, I had no intention of backing off anymore.
Grabbing my phone, I found Bryan Coleson’s number from my contact list and hit call. Finally returning his call.
Chapter Twelve
Rose
Being married to Jack Hawthorne had turned out to have its own advantages—apart from the broody eye candy and the almost daily arm porn, I mean. As much as I didn’t care for the idea of having a driver take me to work, I didn’t put up any fight when Jack forced me to go with Raymond in the mornings instead of walking through Central Park and getting myself into situations—his word, not mine—because I knew it was safer.
I still mumbled under my breath and put up the illusion of a fight to look more impressive and fearless in his eyes, which sounded stupid when I thought about it more, but I still did it.
Being the prickly, no-nonsense guy he was, with a hand on my back—literally—he pushed me all the way down from the apartment to the car where Raymond was waiting next to the passenger door, as if I’d run away from him like a kid if he wasn’t keeping his hand on me. I was quite fine with the acting, because it kept his hand firmly on my back. So, joke’s on him. I managed to mumble and mutter the entire way down in the elevator, and he didn’t even utter a word.
There was something about his gruffness that I just loved. It would put some people off, it definitely had put me off, but the more I got to know him, the more I found it adorable.
As Raymond drove me to the coffee shop, I had an amused smile plastered on my face the whole time because Jack had looked so triumphant as he shut the car door in my face.
I chatted with Raymond to hide my giddiness and learned more about him. One particular subject that came up a few days into our morning rides was him trying the online dating scene for the first time in his life after divorcing his ex-wife, who he had caught cheating with one of his friends. Thank God they hadn’t had kids. We were both happy about that, and the retelling of the horrible and awkward dates provided much amusement that early in the morning.
At the end of the week, we pretty much knew almost everything about each other, and it had stopped feeling like he was my driver and had turned into going to work with a friend. It also helped that he was the only person who knew about our fake marriage and never even mentioned what a weird thing it was.