I shake my head and lean in across the table. Jack mirrors me. I whisper loudly, cupping my hand to my mouth, "I'm not really a whore, so it doesn't bother me."
"Abby, be serious," Gus chides when Jack sits back in his chair and smiles widely.
I hate it when people say that. 'Be serious,' as if I don't know what I've gotten myself into. I stop laughing and say, "You be serious, Gus. This is nothing. I don't care. They can say what they want. I bet I've slept with less men than the woman holding the sign. This is stupid. It doesn't warrant a reaction."
Jack presses his fingers to his eyes and lets out a rush of air. He didn't sleep well last night. Jack stayed up painting for most of the night, joining me in bed well after midnight. He tossed and turned, like something was bothering him.
"Maybe she's right." Jack drops his hands and looks at Gus. "If we do nothing, they'll all leave sooner. Let's just make sure all the doors are locked, and the studio is shut up tight. I don't want any blinds open. The press will start sniffing around, trying to get comments. Don't talk to them." That last part was directed at me. I shrink back into my chair a little and Jack gives Gus a scathing look. "No press, Gus. I don't care what she says. If you do that again, you're dead to me."
"Holy crap, you sound like your mother," Gus replies, shaking his head, like he can't believe it. "I never thought you'd use that line on me." There's a playful tone in his voice, even though things are serious. I watch the two of them go back and forth for a few rounds until Jack cuts it off.
"I can hold a grudge, Gus. Don't piss me off." Jack stands and grabs the papers that are in front of him. He taps them into a pile and gestures for me to follow. He's all serious until we're clear of Gus, and then he laughs. "I can't believe you sometimes. Gus and I were both freaking out when we saw them show up. They piled out of a bus like ants and swarmed. I thought you'd cry."
"Wooooo!" I say, laughingly, making my best ghost noise. "Come on, you have to admit that's a bad sign. I think they did it wrong if it was supposed to make me repent or something. What group is that, anyway?"
We walk down the hallway to the studio. Once we're inside, Jack pulls all the blinds and the room darkens. I flip on the lights. No natural light kind of sucks, but I can deal.
"I don't even know. I think there are a few civic groups and a church."
"Hey, what time is it?" I ask.
"One o'clock, why?" He looks at me funny.
"Let's call the pizza guy and send them lunch." There's a huge smile on my face. I can picture it in my mind and giggle.
"Oh, God. You're going to get them to throw bricks at us, aren't you? Listen," Jack takes me shoulders and looks into my eyes. He's too serious. I stop smiling. "I love you, but they are going to get worse if they think that their picketing has no effect on you. At least pretend that they're hurting you when they see you coming and going. Smiling and giving them food, while very hospitable of you, is going to piss them off." He smiles at me like I'm a bad kid.
I sigh, "Fine. I'll be good." Jack kisses my forehead and releases my shoulders. We walk into the studio. The painting he was working on last night is on the wall behind the curtain. I sigh dramatically and slump my shoulders. "Are you serious? I'm not allowed to see it? Again?"
"Nope. You'll have to wait like all the other models do. Since I stayed up all night, it's pretty far along. I can't wait to show it to you." He beams at me. I can tell how pleased he is, which makes it even harder not to peak behind the curtain. Jack notices the look in my eye and reads my thoughts. "Don't you dare peek."
I make a pouty face and say, "Fine, but know this..." I say, raising my finger and sucking in a deep breath. "I hate waiting." Jack laughs. I resume my normal stance as Jack walks toward the unused canvases.
Jack starts to roll the biggest one back up. "Help me roll it," Jack says, grabbing one end of the massive roll. It's as big as a roll of carpet. I grab the other end and we try to get it on the long brown roll.
"So, what'd you have in mind for today, art boy?" I say with a grin on my face.
"Keep it even," he scolds.
"I am, but it's like trying a roll a tree." I sigh and tuck my hair behind my ears. "This was from a new roll, right?"
"Yeah and it's not the canvas that I usually use. It's thicker. The texture is really coarse, like burlap."
"Ooooh, burlap. Sexy."
He grins at me and pulls his end tight, trying to get rid of the wrinkle in the middle. "What's gotten into you today? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were giddy."
"Yeah, nervous glee is my way of dealing with stress. Get used to it, Jack."
He looks up at me, his dark hair in his eyes, and I wink. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to ravage you right here on the studio floor. Gus will walk in and you'll turn all shades of red." His threat is hollow. He says it to tease me, knowing that I don't have an exhibitionist bone in my body.
I can't help it. Maybe I am a little bit giddy. After talking to Jack last night, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. I want to play. I want to laugh.
Straightening, I taunt him and hold my arms out at my sides. "I dare you." Jack looks up at me with a sexy smile on his face, like he doesn't think I'm serious. "Come on, painter boy, are you all bluster and no bite?" Teasing him, I smirk and gesture for him to come get me.
He laughs and runs straight at me, which I didn't expect. I barely have time to turn and run when he reaches me. Jack grabs at my waist, but I giggle and move out of his reach. I run away from him, swirling as I go, dancing around the buckets of paint and tables of brushes and solvent. I shriek as Jack narrowly misses me and I dart around the table. I stop, waiting to see which way Jack is going to run. He does the same. We stare at each other for a second, catching our breath. My pulse is pounding and there's a huge smile on my face. So far, today is pretty good. I plan on it getting better. I fake right and run left. I nearly fall on my ass doing it. I slip, and my hip bangs the corner of the table.
"Frack! That hurt!" I say, half laughing, still trying to avoid Jack's arms.
Chasing me, he says, "'Frack?' Come on, where's my girl? Say it like you mean it."
"I reserve that word for pillow talk, Mr. Gray, and since there are no pillows present, I won't be saying it." Breathless, I stop on one side of the brush table. He's on the other.
He laughs as mirth flashes in his eyes. Jack is radiant when he's laughing. It's hard not to just stare. "I sense a challenge."
"No you don't," I laugh.
Jack lunges forward and grabs hold of my waist. I shriek and giggle as he knocks the brushes on the floor as he slides across the table-top. I realize that he can't stand and start to drag him across. I dig my heels in and pull, intending to knock him on the floor, but the man has catlike reflexes, and instead of falling, he manages to lunge at me. Lunge! We go down in a tangle of legs and arms and roll along the floor. He's tickling my sides so hard that I can't breathe. Tears are streaming from my eyes as I try to curl into a ball and kick him at the same time.
"Say it!" he says, as his ruthless fingers find a horribly ticklish spot at the top of my inner thigh. His other hand is trying to get to the same spot. I kick and thrash.
"No!"
"Say it!" His fingers manage to find an opening and his other hand is getting nearer to that most ticklish of spots. He continues to tickle since I keep trying to get away.
His hands reach that ticklish spot on both of my sides. I'm toast. I scream and laugh uncontrollably as his fingers torture me. Jack is perched over me. He leans down close to my face, and his fingers slow their onslaught. "Say it, Mrs. Gray. Say it."
The smile on my face hurts. I feel my lips curl, trying to say that nasty word, but I can't. It's daylight and I'm not feeling it. Jack's fingers start to move like he's going to begin his tickle-slaughter again, and I concede. "Fuck! FUCK! Stop!"
Hovering over me, Jack grins wickedly. "There's my dirty girl." He kisses my nose.
"You suck!" I giggle and take a shot at his head, but I'm too wiggly. I miss by a mile. Jack grabs my wrists and pins me to the floor before sitting on me.
"No, no. You're saying it wrong. Fffff..." He makes the sound, pressing his teeth to his lips. "Fuck. You try." He laughs and wiggles his h*ps against me.
I can't stop laughing. Everything he said and the way he's straddled me makes me laugh hysterically. Jack's eyebrow lifts as he looks down at me like I've lost my mind. I manage to say, "You're doing it wrong," before I'm ravaged by more laughter.
"We can fix that," he says and reaches for his zipper.
I flush and the giggles evaporate. I grab his hands, stopping him. "I can't. There are people here." The office girl is here and so is Gus. They could walk in. As it is, Gus heard me screaming profanities. My face burns and I know I'm blushing.
Jack laughs and lowers his face to mine. "I know." He watches me for a second, like he might do something. My heart is thumping in my chest, totally freaking out. I want him. I want to say yes, but I can't. His eyes are glued to mine as his warm breath slips across my face. "I'll take a rain check on this one if you'll consider sex on the beach when the paparazzi leave."
"The drink?" I can't help it.
"Okay, back to now," he says, lifting himself up enough to reach for his belt and unfasten it.
"No, no. I'll consider it." I say, laughing, pulling at his hands to make him stop. A tear streaks from the corner of my eye. I still feel uber happy.
"No, I mean really consider it. Not just say that even though the answer is already no. Think about it - about what it would feel like, about what you might like." His eyes are so dark. They look like gemstones.
I nod slowly. "All right. I will."
He looks surprised. "Are you serious?" He strokes a stray hair from my eyes.
"Of course I am. The idea scares me, but I'll think about it. Maybe there's something that might appeal to me that I haven't thought of. In the meantime, you can tell me about what you want. I'd like that. Use the word f**k a lot. I hear that works really well."
Jack laughs and holds me tightly. When I see him happy like this, when I get a chance to be around him without distraction, I feel so perfect. Jack rolls and I'm on top of him. He holds me there, looking up at me, and gives me the first little tidbit about sex on the beach. "I'd want you to be on top so I can look at you." His hands run over my sides and come up under my br**sts. He cups them through my shirt and I sigh. He's about to tell me what else he wants to do when someone pounds on the door that leads to the hall and it flies open.
Gus runs in. He stops short when he looks at us. He turns away quickly. Horrified, I climb off of Jack, who thinks it's amusing. He pulls me off the floor and tells Gus, "Knocking only works if you wait for someone to answer, jackass."
Gus's back is turned. There's a sense of urgency about him. His hands are clenched at his sides and he's breathing hard. "Sorry, bro. I didn't mean to walk in on you."