I’m mad as hell, but I can’t control the sob in my chest. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Baby, please, don’t say that. I need to explain.”
I’m overcome by the what-if. What if I got pregnant? He’d hate me. “No. Every time we have sex, we risk making a baby together even if we use birth control. Unplanned pregnancies happen to real people every day. Look at me—I’m the result of one and see how shitty that ended up for everyone involved.”
“That’s not true, Laurelyn.”
“It is and I can’t do this anymore. I won’t risk making a baby with someone who would react the way you did just now. I couldn’t bear to ever see you look at me like that again.”
I feel him reaching for me in the dark and I try to push him away. His arms entwine me and he squeezes, almost too tight. “I’m so sorry, Laurelyn. I thought you were playing a trick on me about a baby because you thought it was funny. I should’ve known that wasn’t what you were doing. I’m so sorry.” I feel his hands move to my face. “I would never be angry because you were pregnant.”
This conversation is too much for me. I don’t want to talk about how a baby would make him feel because then I might be forced to think about how it would make me feel. “Can we agree that this was a misunderstanding and talk about something else?” I ask.
He hugs me in the darkness and kisses my head. “I think that’s a great idea, but can we leave the closet?”
I laugh. “You know I thought I was going into the bathroom, right?”
“I know.”
We leave the closet and climb into bed. I scoot close so I can put my head on his chest. I’m reeling from tonight’s events. I told him I wanted to end things with him and now, two seconds later, I’m curled around him like a kitten desperate for his touch. Yeah, I really showed him who’s boss.
Was I really going to walk away from him? I think I was, but there’s no use in speculating. He didn’t let me go.
This game has changed. The rules are no longer the same, but I don’t have the manual. He does, and I need guidance on where to go from here.
He caresses my arm. “What are you thinking about?”
I decide to go for it because I need to know where his head is. “I’m wondering where we go from here.”
His fingertips continue to glide up and down my arm as he answers. “Tonight changed everything for us, didn’t it?”
The word change seems like such an understatement for what has happened between us. “Yeah, just a little.”
“If I’m being honest with you, I don’t really know where we go from here. I don’t know how to do this new us.”
He has lines and I don’t dare cross them. “What do you need from me to make this work?”
“I think the new us needs to start with a first kiss.” He’s playful, not panicked, about this new place we are venturing. This feels like my Lachlan Henry, only better.
He sits up, rolling me to my back. His mouth comes down on mine and he pushes his tongue inside. Every motion is deliberate. He’s slow and gentle. This is a new kind of kiss for the couple we are becoming.
When he stops kissing me, I search his face and see a deep wrinkle across his brow. I’ve seen it before. It’s only there when he’s in deep concentration about something, and it frightens me. I’m afraid he’s thinking this isn’t going to work. Or maybe he doesn’t want to try.
I reach up and place my thumb on top of the contracted muscle to smooth it. “I only see this when you’re thinking hard about something. What’s on your mind?”
I’m scared of what he’s going to say, but he gives me a crooked grin and I’m relieved before the first word leaves his mouth. “Say my name.”
I don’t know which one to go with. He hasn’t asked me to call him anything but Lachlan and I don’t want to overstep his boundaries. “Lachlan.”
He shakes his head as if to say tsk tsk, wrong answer. “Say my real name.”
Oh. “Jack.”
His face becomes serious. “Both of them.”
My heart is pounding. This is huge, according to his mother. He would only ask me to do this if he loved me. “Jack Henry.”
He closes his eyes as though he’s savoring the sound of it coming from my mouth. “Say it again, Laurelyn.”
I hesitate and he opens his eyes to look at me. That’s when I choose to say it again, at the moment his eyes meet mine. “Jack Henry.”
He kisses me and I feel his mouth move into the shape of a smile. “That’s who I am to you from now on. No more Lachlan. No more pretending.”
40
Jack McLachlan
I’ve shut the door on Lachlan Henry forever. He no longer exists. Only Jack Henry McLachlan resides here, and I like it. For the first time in more than four years, it feels good to be me with a woman. And not just any woman. Laurelyn.
“Now that I know your real name, which I think you’ll agree is the single-most important piece of identifying information, do I get to know everything else?”
She wants the rest of my story.
“You know my name. You’ve met my family. What else would you want to know?”
“We’re as close as two people can be, so I want to know everything.”
Things feel really good between us the way they are. Am I ready to tell her more?
“You don’t have to worry, Jack Henry. I’m not going to stalk you the way Audrey does.”
I hear her say my name and I’m a goner. I’ll tell her anything she wants to know. “I have a condo here in Sydney. It’s home when I’m not traveling, which isn’t very often, because I own too many vineyards to stay home for long.”
She takes a minute to process this information. “You own them all?”
“Yes. Avalon is my latest purchase.”
She wasn’t expecting that. “How many total?”
“Too damn many.” And that was the truth. I was stretched too thin across New South Wales and New Zealand. I was following in my father’s footsteps and also making steps of my own. I shouldn’t have purchased Avalon. I don’t have the time it requires to make it successful, but I can’t regret it. It’s what led me to Laurelyn.
“So does that mean you’re rich?”
“Yes. I told you I was when we met.”
“You’ve told me a lot of things but I’ve assumed most all of it lies.”