“Wilt Chamberlain?”
“Yeah, that guy. I’m not one to judge, but he had too much sex. And I don’t want that in my house. Now, this oval mirror.” I point to the one I want to take home.
“Let me guess. Another little old lady?”
“No.” I laugh and shake my head. “It belonged to a nurse, actually. She was tired, overworked, underpaid, and struggling. Single mom. But she was also fierce and determined. And happy. So, I want it. Plus, the gold matches my shower curtain.”
Jack laughs as he lifts the mirror off the wall.
“What’s so funny?”
“Only you would choose a mirror because it matches your shower curtain.”
“I like that shower curtain, thank you very much.”
Just as we step back, I catch something move in one of the other mirrors.
“What was that?”
I spin, frantically looking around, but there’s nothing there.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I swear I thought I saw something move in the reflection.”
I turn back to him and see my father standing behind me in the mirror. The smile on his face immediately makes me physically sick.
“Oh, shit.”
“Daph?”
“Oh, fuck, Jack.”
“Talk to me, baby.”
I can’t take my eyes off my dad and that horrible smile.
“What do you see, Daphne?”
“My father,” I whisper and feel my hands start to shake. “He’s standing over my left shoulder.”
“Look at me.”
I shake my head slowly.
“Damn it, Daphne, look at me. Right now.”
My eyes find his, and I feel a little better.
“Your father isn’t here, sweets. It’s not possible. I promise you.”
I return my attention to the mirror and see nothing behind me. It’s only the contents of my shop. “I want to go home.”
“Let’s go.”
Jack loads the mirror into the back of his car, and once I shut off the lights and lock the back door, we head out once more toward my apartment.
It’s a nice evening. Not too hot. I roll the window down and enjoy the way the breeze feels. I don’t even care if it messes up my hair. It feels too good.
Before long, Jack pulls up in front of my place and carries the mirror up behind me.
“While you hang that, I’m going to change and pour some wine,” I inform him. After what happened earlier, I need the entire bottle.
Maybe two.
“Good idea. This won’t take long.”
He hurries back to his car and returns with a hammer and a handful of nails.
“Why did you have those in your car?”
He licks his lips. “Because I saw this happen, and I wanted to be prepared.”
I blink at him and then shift my feet. “When did you see it?”
“A few days ago, I guess.” He walks to the bathroom, and I make my way into the bedroom to change my clothes. I love dressing up. But almost as much as that, I adore how it feels to take off the fancy clothes. My leggings and loose sweatshirt feel nice.
I pad barefoot into the kitchen and pour two glasses of red, just as Jack calls out, “Come check it out.”
“Oh, I love it.” I pass Jackson a glass of wine and smile as I study the mirror. “Dare I say I like it more than the other one?”
“I do, too, actually.”
“Thanks for hanging it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Wanna sit for a while?”
His eyes darken, and he sips his wine. “Yes. I do.”
I lead him to the couch and sit on one end, curling my legs under me as I turn to face him where he sits on the other end of the sofa.
“Should we talk about what happened before?” Jack asks.
“No.” I shake my head and block what happened at the shop out of my mind.
“When you’re ready, then.”
“Where did you go?” I ask, digging into some of the nitty-gritty of our time apart. “After you left New Orleans. I mean, I know you went into the military, but where?”
He talks for a long time about boot camp, traveling, being stationed on the east coast, and then deployed in the Middle East.
“You’ve done a lot in the years since I saw you last,” I say and pour us each another glass of wine. “And all I’ve done is stay here.”
He took his jacket off a while ago, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up on his forearms. Jackson is tanned and muscled, and his dark hair is just a little too long. It makes him look…hot.
“Stop it. You’ve done a hell of a lot more than that. You started a business—a successful one at that. And you’ve been dealing with a lot in the past year or so.”
“It hasn’t been boring,” I admit. “I didn’t wonder about where you were back then. I told myself I didn’t care.”
“I wondered about you every day,” he replies, surprising me. “I regretted everything that happened. How I handled it. But I was also so damn angry. I’d think about you. Wonder how you were and what you were doing. But then a crazy fury would wash over me, and I’d block it out. Focus on the job. And then the job consumed everything. I guess being in a warzone does that to you.”
My heart aches every time I think of him being in danger.
“I had the premonitions,” he continues. “And I knew when my guys were going to die. It was its own kind of torture, Daph. I tried to tell a few of them, but they looked at me like I was fucking crazy.”
“I know how that is.”
“Yeah.” He rubs his hand over his mouth, and I scoot closer to take his other hand. “Yeah, you’d know. So, I stopped telling them. But I also had to block the premonitions because they were driving me insane. With Miss Sophia’s help, I finally did.”
“You got medals of honor.” I smile at his surprised glance. “I kept track of things, even if I did it begrudgingly. You saved lives.”
“Not all of them.”
“You’re only one man, Jack. And as awesome as you are, you can’t control everything.”
“So, you’re saying I’m awesome?”
I laugh and sip my wine.
“How long are you staying here?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Indefinitely.”
My eyes find his.
“You’re surprised?” he asks.
“Yeah. I thought for sure you’d leave again.”
“I did, too, to tell you the truth. I even had a job lined up in Idaho. But I just couldn’t go. This is home, Daph. I have people here. And you’re here.”
He reaches for my hand once more, and I want to pinch myself. Is this real?
“You know, back to the whole telling-each-other-the-truth thing. I’m afraid if we start something between us, and I see something and tell you about it, you’ll get angry and leave again. That’s why I acted like a big jerk to you since you started coming around again.”
“I get it.” He sighs and squeezes my hand. “I’m older and wiser now—and no less handsome, of course.”
I grin.
“I don’t carry around that horrible anger anymore, Daph. It was a disease, eating at me. I got some therapy. The thing is, that wasn’t me. That rage isn’t who I am. It never has been.”