Blissful Vol. 1 Page 4

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, like getting my car fixed for starters.” She waves her fork in the air as if it’s a wand.

  “That’s part of my trade. I promise I’ll fix your car. Just sit back and hold tight.”

  “What am I supposed to do in the mean time?”

  “Help out on the farm.”

  Her fork drops onto the table. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m serious all right.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? Is there something wrong with your legs or arms? Last I checked you weren’t in a wheel chair, unless you magically conjured one up with that wizard-like fork flick you do while I wasn’t looking.”

  She gazes at me with a furious look on her face, but I find it amusing. Highly amusing. Her reaction to everything I say makes me want to taunt her even more. It’s just too appealing not to. I just want to see that annoyed face over and over again. It makes me laugh and forget all the shit I’m confronted with daily.

  “Daddy, look!” Madeline holds up her plate, letting the food almost slip off. I push it up, to prevent the table from getting messy again. Cleaning up is not my favorite thing to do. Madeline made a smiley face with her beans and taters.

  “Maddy, your food is for eating, not for playing.” I drag the plate down to the table.

  “It’s for you, daddy!” She pushes the plate to me.

  “No, Madeline. Finish your plate.”

  “Smile, daddy. You need to be happy.” The smile on her face goes from ear to ear.

  I can’t help but laugh. She’s just too darn cute. “I am happy, Maddy. Now, go on, have a bite.” I nudge her fork into her hands and stick it in a bean, hoping she’ll follow up. I need to concentrate for a moment, so I can have this conversation with my troublesome guest.

  “I’m giving you a place to stay and I’ll fix your car. The least you can do is help out a little. I could use the help.”

  Amy is looking at Madeline and she seems to enjoy my little girl’s mischief, seeing her radiating face. She sighs when she realizes I’m talking to her. “Fine. But don’t expect me to roll around in the mud, because I’m absolutely not getting dirty.”

  There she goes again; making those remarks that make me itch to snap back. “Dang, I was just about to ask you to give my pigs a bath.”

  She winces, and I laugh. “I’m kidding, Amy. I don’t even have pigs.”

  She takes a breath, visibly relieved.

  Getting her to do something is apparently freaking her out. Maybe I should try another way. “You know what? Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked you. Like you said, city girls aren’t really useful on a farm.”

  “Excuse me? I can be useful when I want to.” She starts cutting up her beef as if there’s no tomorrow.

  “Like with what?”

  She cocks her head. “I can do … loads of stuff.”

  My laugh sounds more like a groan. “I bet you can’t do half the stuff I ask you to.”

  “Oh, you’re so dead wrong.”

  “Prove it.” It’s working. She’s gonna work for me on her own decision. Wonderful. Folding my arms, I lean back in my chair, chewing on a piece of beef.

  “Fine. I will. Tomorrow,” she says, taking a huge bite out of her beef.

  “Deal!” Gotya.

  Chapter 4

  Amy

  I don’t want to admit it, but all I want to do is look at him. Find every possible excuse I have to just take a peek. I don’t know why. I’m still recovering from my horrendous breakup with Ronnie, and now I’m already crushing on a rancher I’ve yet to get to know better. I can’t believe what I’m doing.

  I shake my head while closing the door to my room. It smells musty in here, and the dark green curtains make the room look shady. Is this the guestroom? I grab my phone and charger and plug it in, secretly hoping no one has called while my cell was dead. I don’t think I can talk to anyone I know yet.

  Checking out the room, I let my hand slide along the sheets and feel the bed dent under my touch. So much for a good night sleep. Oh well, can’t complain either. I’m in a stranger’s home, and Jack’s been sweet to offer me all this help. I’ve never met anyone like him before. It’s as if he doesn’t mind at all. Strange, but at the same time it almost makes me envious of his carefree spirit.

  Just thinking about him makes me smile.

  No, I shouldn’t. I just came out of a rough relationship, I can’t just go ahead and jump into a new one. If my heart breaks again, I would just shrivel up and die. Besides, no way Jack would ever fall for me. He’s sweet, kind, funny, hard-working and oh my god handsome. What do I have? Nothing, except my curvy bum, but not all men find that attractive. I doubt he’s the kind that does.

  Sighing, I take off my clothes and crawl underneath the blanket. It’s warm and fuzzy, so I close my eyes to try and catch some sleep. I need energy to get through the day tomorrow. Prodding my pillow, I try to find a cozy spot, but I keep twisting and turning around. One hour passes. I should really get some sleep. Two hours pass. Nice and comfortable, sleepy sleep. It’s already way past midnight.

  Yeah, no, it ain’t happening.

  Again.

  I twiddle my thumbs and open my eyes. Staring at the ceiling, I count the dots in the paint, desperate not to think. It’s already too late. Images of Ronnie kissing Nicole cross my mind and lock themselves in front of my eyes like photographs. All I see is them making out. Squeezing shut my eyes, I pray to God to make them disappear. Please, make them disappear. I can’t take this. I can’t think about them.

  Tears sting my eyes, and I know I can’t stop it now. Sniffing, my face becomes moist. I can taste my own saltiness as I roll around to the side. My stomach growls, and I begin to feel queasy. Everyone I know and ever cared about leaves me or hurts me. I feel worthless.

  I curl up into a ball and pull up the blankets, trying to warm myself up. It’s so damn cold in here, but I don’t want to just go and turn up the heater, that’d be rude. Oh, what I’d give to be held again. To have someone to warm me up, to embrace me and tell me everything’s going to be okay.

  But it’s not. I’m alone and miserable.

  I can’t stop myself from crying and sniveling. I hope Jack can’t hear it, because I know I’m making noise. The more I try to close off from my feelings, the more I feel, and it’s tearing me apart.

  I rip the sheets off and sit straight in bed. I sniff and wipe the wetness from my cheeks. Sitting up makes me feel like crap, but lying down makes me feel worse. Hairs stick to my face, so I brush them away. I feel dirty and know I look like hell, but I go out the door anyway. I need something to calm down.

  I softly close the door behind me and see a light flickering down the hall. I walk to the living room and see Jack lying on the couch. He’s cradling Madeline in one arm, his lips on her forehead. His other hand is hanging down the couch while holding a framed picture of a woman.

  They look adorable together, and watching them makes my heartache a little less painful. They look so peaceful, I don’t want to disturb them.

  I tiptoe back to the kitchen and open the fridge to see if there’s anything inside that can soothe my cravings. It’s either hugs or a big piece of chocolate I need. Love, food; I exchange one for another quite frequently. Whatever’s available.

  Sadly, he doesn’t have anything good. If I discount the veggies, countless meat packages and wrapped leftovers, all that’s left is a carton of milk and a bottle of coke. Guess the coke will have to do.

  I would normally never be like this, but I can’t help myself. I need something in my stomach to silence the voices in my head. Eating and drinking always eases me.

  Pulling open the cabinet above the sink, I grab a glass. Suddenly a crackling sound startles me. The bottle of coke drops from my hands and lands on the floor. The carbon dioxide instantly starts to sizzle on the top layer. Shit. If I open it now it’ll rain coke. There goes my plan. What the hell was that noise anyway? />
  I close the door of the fridge, and then Jack’s right in front of my face. I let out a short squeal, but Jack’s hand moves quickly on top of my mouth. Oh. My. God. His hand is on my mouth. I can feel him. My lip starts quivering. My tongue is going in overdrive in my mouth. Only a tiny fraction of me can stop myself from trying to kiss his fingers.

  His other hand moves to his own lips and he makes a shushing sound, then he releases me. Damn.

  “She’s still asleep,” he whispers.

  “Sorry. What was that?”

  “Dropped something,” Jack says.

  He frowns, the corners of his lips pointing down. By the look on his face I can tell it’s bad. Actually, he looks depressed. He probably broke the frame he was holding.

  Jack picks up the bottle of coke from the floor and sets it down on the counter. “That coke’s going to take a while to fizzle down.”

  His eyes scan my face, up and down, left and right, as if he’s trying to figure something out. He’s so close now, if I hold out my arms I could wrap them around him. I gasp when his finger reaches up impulsively and brushes along my cheek. I shiver from his touch. Gently, he wipes away a wet strand of hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear.

  I’m mortified and stunned. On the inside I’m set ablaze.

  Then I realize I was crying like a baby ten minutes ago. My face must be bloated and red. In an instant I feel ashamed, and I turn around to face the sink, so I can bury my face between my hands. Leaning on the counter, I say, “Yeah” to quell the silence between us.

  He leans against the fridge, trying to peek underneath the curtain of hair falling across my face. He smiles when he sees me glance at him, and it makes me laugh. The way he tries to make contact with me gives me a momentary sense of peace, even if it only lasts for a few seconds.

  “Tell you what, let me make you something,” he says.

  Jack pushes himself off the fridge and opens it. He grabs the carton of milk and walks to the stove.

  “You don’t have to,” I mutter.

  Jack grabs a pan and pours in some milk before turning on the gas. He adds some cinnamon and lets the milk heat up. “Yeah, I do. You look miserable.”

  My face turns rigid and suddenly feels cold. Three times crap. He noticed.

  I turn to try and sneak away from this embarrassing scene. Suddenly I feel his hand clutch my arm. “Ah, don’t go,” he says. I turn around and he slowly lets go. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so upfront. Haven’t been around a woman for a while, takes some time to get used to that kind of … well you get the picture.”

  “You think I’m whiny.”

  Jack purses his lips. “No, I did not say that.”

  “It’s okay. I know it’s true. I’m whiny, self-absorbed, a bitch and fat.” My own words are repetitions mulling in my head. These words don’t stem from me. I’ve heard them all my life, people shouting the most hurtful things at me, and I’ve always remembered it. I lodged them into my brain, and they’ve grown into the only truth I know.

  “Hey.” Jack squeezes my wrist and tilts his head, peering into my eyes, peeling away the layers of my soul. I don’t know what it is with him. He just has this effect on me that breaks my defense. As if he’s gazing into the depths of me, grasping a hold of me, tearing down the walls enclosing my heart.

  “Don’t you ever say that about yourself again.”

  “Why? You don’t know me.”

  “Because it’s not true, and you know that. I know you’re not. I’ve known you long enough to know all of that is not true. I don’t need more than a couple of hours to conclude that. I’ve seen it peep in from time to time, especially when you were playing with Madeline. I know there’s some good inside that soul of yours. Maybe it’s not coming out right now, but it sure is in there.” He presses his finger onto my sternum, and I can feel the heat being forced into my body. As if he’s reaching straight for my heart.

  When his finger disappears from my chest the emptiness that takes its place is engulfing.

  “Still leaves the fat part,” I mutter.

  “Who told you that?” he says, his voice increasingly irritated.

  I snort. “My … ex.”

  He shakes his head and frowns. “What a dipshit.”

  Chortling, I say, “Agreed.”

  He grabs my upper arm, and his eyes connect with mine again. My body gravitates toward his, an invisible string pulling me closer.

  “Listen to me. Whatever happened to you that got you so depressed, I know he’s not worth the tears. A man who says that kind of crap to his girlfriend is an idiot. You’re not fat. I don’t know what kind of assholes you have in the city, but us country folk do know the difference between fat and normal. And trust me, you are not fat, Amy. I’ve seen real big women before. Hell we’ve got a whole town of them hours away, and you pale in comparison. You’re beautiful.”

  His words astonish me. I’m completely baffled. Nailed to the floor, I stare at him and his amazing lips that just blurted out those words. It meant probably nothing and totally everything at the same time. But it makes me feel better than ever before.

  His cheeks redden and he crushes his lips, his eyes flicking all over the place. He clears his throat and turns to stir the milk.

  Something inside me is igniting. Jack’s presence is drawing me in. Jokes aside, he seems more and more like a man I admire instead of dislike. The more I see of him, the more I want. I need to see more. Just a glimpse is all that it takes to give my heart that spark it needs to light up again.

  “Thanks,” I stammer. “I appreciate you trying to cheer me up.”

  “No need to thank me. I’m only saying the truth.”

  There he goes again, making my breath falter and my heart jittery.

  Turning off the gas, he takes the pan off the stove and grabs a mug from the cabinet. Jack pours the milk into the mug and sets the pan back down. He holds up the mug and looks at me, convincing me to take it. When I reach for it, his fingers gently brush mine. I flush, taking the mug to my lips, seeing him smile.

  “Good, isn’t it?” he says.

  I nod and sip some more. God, this tastes good.

  “It’s a sure way to doze off,” he says.

  “Do this often?” I ask.

  He nods. “Madeline has nightmares, and I always make her warm milk to calm her down and get her to sleep again.”

  Jack yawns and stretches his arms. A glimpse of his trained abdomen is visible, and I gulp. What I’d do to get my hands on that.

  He winces. “God, that couch is killing my back.”

  “Don’t tell me you always sleep on there.”

  “No, not always. Just often.”

  “Why? You have a bed, right?”

  “I have trouble sleeping. Usually watch some television. When Maddy wakes up she doesn’t want me to leave, so I let her sleep with me on the couch. Beats having to get up fifteen times a night.”

  Him, trouble sleeping? He doesn’t strike me as the tired type. But it was darn cute to see him like that.

  “Anyway, enough talking about me. You should catch some sleep,” Jack says.

  “What about you?”

  He shrugs. “I’ll manage.”

  Or in other words, he’ll just stay awake and do what? Nothing?

  I put the mug down and turn to walk out the kitchen, but he walks after me. He nudges the hot mug against my skin. “Take it up to your room. It’s okay.” His wink makes me feel weak in the knees.

  “Thanks. Goodnight,” I say, and I clench it tight while walking up the stairs.

  He watches me go up. His gaze is still on me, following me into the room. There’s a perpetual smile on his face. I wave, and he waves back, then I close the door behind me. Leaning against it, I let out a huge sigh, and a smile creeps onto my face. I can’t stop smiling, not even when I’m trying to drink. Whatever this is, I don’t want it to stop.

  Chapter 5

  Jack

  She really lit up when I
called her beautiful. I can’t believe I actually said that. I feel like a stupid, clumsy jock again, stuttering in front of the high school beauty. Well, I did mean it when I said Amy was beautiful. I don’t understand why she thinks she’s not pretty. Most girls here would say she’s thin, maybe curvy, but not fat. Must be some city-girl problem or something.

  Scratching my head, I take a deep breath and sigh. I can’t stop looking at her, even when she’s already gone from sight. The way she smiles makes me feel alive again, and all I want is to see that smile. Again and again. Her laugh drowns the memories I have, soothing the pain a little.

  But I know I can’t see her smile forever. She’ll leave eventually. I can’t let it happen. I can’t bear to lose another. It’ll kill me before my time. I don’t want to take that chance.

  Shaking my head, I turn and walk to the kitchen. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I don’t have time for any of this bullshit. This never ending job doesn’t make room for anything else than work. As if I would need it.

  I don’t need it. I don’t need anyone. Only Maddy.

  Besides, it wouldn’t be good for her. She’s already lost someone, and I can’t bear to see her lose anyone else. I don’t want her to get attached to someone who’ll be ripped away from her any moment. She can’t handle that. She’s too young to understand anyway. Nope, not a good thing. Definitely not.

  I walk to the living room and look at sweet little Madeline, curled up into a blanket I placed over her. Looking at her fades out the voices in my head, but the cracked picture lying on the floor brings them back.

  Picking it up, I swipe away the broken glass and look at the beautiful woman staring back at me. What I’d give to touch her for real. To hold her with my own hands. Not like this. This cold, static image of hers is empty and hollow. Just like my heart.

  Fuck me. I need something to drink.

  I sigh again and go to the kitchen. Putting the picture down on the kitchen counter, I open the highest hanging cabinet, where I stash the pain relievers. The only thing I know to do when I feel like shit.