Lucky Stars Page 16

  The air in the room took on an edge.

  “Jack…” Belle whispered.

  His eyes moved to hers and he said gently, “I’m speaking to Lila now, poppet.”

  “You shouldn’t rile her,” Belle advised.

  He turned his torso toward her and asked, “Are you enjoying this conversation?”

  She hesitated before responding honestly, “Not really, no.”

  He turned back to the table, his gaze moving in the direction of her grandmother and stated firmly, “Then this conversation is over.”

  Belle chanced a glance at the table and saw Gram looked fit to be tied but Mom was grinning ear to ear.

  “Told you!” Mom announced, pointing at Gram then her finger moved to Belle. “Told you too.”

  “Told them what?” Joy asked and Belle saw her mother’s body give a small twitch as her face lost a goodly amount of colour.

  She dropped her hand and muttered, “Nothing.”

  Everyone at the table was silent for several long moments.

  The only one who moved was Jack and this was so he could pour Belle some coffee.

  Belle plucked up the courage to break the silence and said in a quiet voice to Jack, “I don’t drink coffee because of the baby.”

  He stopped himself from filling his own cup and replied, “Of course.”

  He put down the silver service and took her cup from her place, lifted it to his lips and took a sip.

  Belle watched Jack sip from a cup she didn’t even use but was somehow still hers and felt, weirdly, the intimacy of this act almost equalled him putting his hand on her pregnant belly for the first time.

  The pleasant feeling this gave her was so overpowering it scared her half to death.

  She tore her eyes from Jack drinking coffee and caught Yasmin openly staring at her with a huge grin on her face.

  Then Yasmin declared, “I’m coming to breakfast every day. This is fun!”

  Belle didn’t think it was fun. Belle thought it was torture.

  She didn’t share this.

  Instead, she caught Joy gazing at her with a bright but pensive look in her eyes.

  “I must say,” Joy added, not moving her gaze from Belle. “I agree. I’m glad you’re all here. It definitely livens up the place.”

  Belle knew Joy liked her Mom and Gram, like, a lot.

  Belle also knew she wasn’t really referring to them.

  She felt a warm rush slide through her system and she smiled at Jack’s Mum.

  Joy smiled back.

  Chapter Ten

  Belle and Jack and the Sea

  Belle

  Belle sat on a thick, woollen rug on the rocks outside The Point watching and listening to the waves smashing against the cliffs.

  She was silently asking the sea for peace.

  Unusually, the sea wasn’t giving it to her.

  That was because her life had again turned on its head.

  And it was all Jack’s fault.

  After breakfast two days before, he had, as he told her he would do, driven her to her shop in St. Ives.

  She didn’t understand why he needed to drive her to her shop. She was temporarily pregnant, not temporarily blind.

  However, she did not ask him this.

  The drive had been silent which made Belle intensely uncomfortable. What made her more uncomfortable was that it appeared not to make Jack uncomfortable in the slightest.

  He’d pulled his sleek, maroon Jaguar around the cobbled street that lined the sea and without her giving him the first direction, stopped at the winding path that led to her shop in town.

  She’d turned to him to offer her gratitude for the ride and saw he was already turned toward her.

  Before she could speak, he did. “I’m going to London now, poppet. I’ll be home late. Rachel’s picking you up.”

  Belle nodded, a little surprised he was driving to London and back in a day (it was over five hours away) but she wasn’t going to comment.

  She was about to twist away to exit the car when his hand came up, his fingers curled around her neck and he pulled her close as he leaned in.

  He touched his mouth to hers and when his head moved back a half inch, he murmured, “Have a good day.”

  She nodded again and replied, “You too,” but her reply came out all breathy like she’d just run the two hundred yard dash in record time.

  This made him grin which made a trill slide up her spine which made her shiver which she knew he felt because his grin deepened to a smile.

  Then he slanted his head and kissed her again.

  This kiss was not a touch of the lips but harder and longer. If not an open-mouthed, make out fest, it still worked on her. By the time he lifted his head, she wasn’t breathing.

  “Go to work,” he muttered, she nodded and with all due haste exited the car.

  She knew, as she walked around the hood of the Jag, along the sidewalk and up the winding, cobbled alley that he watched her. She knew this because, the entire time, her scalp was tingling.

  Her day was uneventful except for Yasmin, who came and spent an unbelievable amount of money on clothes and jewellery. Then she spent an even more unbelievable amount of time hanging out with Belle and chatting like they’d known each other for years. She eventually left because, she told Belle, she had a meeting with her divorce attorney. Belle had learned, during the chatting, that marriage number two was even worse than marriage number one and marriage number one had been nothing to write home about.

  By the time Belle went to bed that night, Jack hadn’t returned.

  By the time Belle woke up the next morning, she knew he had.

  She knew this because the front of his body was pressed into the back of hers, his arm was around her waist, his hand resting on the bump of her belly.

  She might have been idiotically slow on numerous occasions with Jack which led to life altering circumstances but she was learning.

  Although she allowed herself a very brief moment to enjoy his warmth and, most especially, his hand resting protectively against their child (and she allowed their child a moment to feel that protection too), she went into action.

  Carefully but swiftly, she exited the bed and walked directly to the bathroom not looking back to see if he woke and only cursorily patting Baron and Gretl’s heads as she went.

  Then she spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. Brushing her teeth far longer than necessary. Flossing with obsessive precision. Washing her face and slathering it with a masque. Sitting on the toilet seat (fretting) for ten minutes to let the masque work. And taking the longest shower in history.

  All of this was in hopes that Jack would leave before she was done in the bathroom.

  When she could delay no more, she walked out to see the bed was empty.

  She felt a wave of relief which was followed immediately by a surge of intense disappointment.

  She tamped down this insane reaction and got ready for her day.

  As it was too early for her mother and grandmother (both late risers) and Joy (also, Belle learned, not exactly a morning person), Belle ate breakfast alone.

  Jack joined her when she was sipping a decaf coffee, staring out the windows to the sea and attempting to keep her mind completely blank (although this wasn’t working, as such).

  His hair was slightly damp, he was wearing jeans, a snug-fitting, long-sleeved, dark grey t-shirt and carrying a newspaper.

  He looked really good (criminally good) in his t-shirt and she noted dazedly he obviously liked dark grey and black because, outside of blue jeans, that was nearly all she’d seen him wear.

  As she was making this insignificant mental note and staring at him, he got close and bent down, kissing her upturned nose.

  “Morning, poppet,” he said softly when his face moved away.

  “Morning,” she whispered, feeling like an idiot even as she made an additional mental note that she liked him kissing her nose and she watched his eyes slide to her coff
ee cup.

  “I thought you didn’t drink coffee,” he remarked.

  “Decaf,” she replied, his lips curled up in a barely there but still unfairly attractive grin and he moved to his seat and threw the paper by his place setting as he settled in.

  Elaine came in, took his breakfast order and Belle resumed her contemplation of the sea, trying to still her racing heart and her equally racing thoughts.

  “Belle,” Jack called and her gaze moved to his ear then she forced herself to look into his eyes before he called her on it, something she knew he’d do. “I need to show you something and I don’t want you to get upset.”

  She braced and kept silent. His voice was gentle, not impatient but still, she couldn’t help but worry.

  “It’s going to happen quite a bit and you’re going to have to learn to ignore it,” he continued.

  “What’s going to happen?” she asked and he flipped open the paper and showed it to her.

  She stared in horror at what she saw.

  There was a full colour picture of her and Jack taken through the windshield of his car, his fingers wrapped around her neck, their bodies close, their faces even closer because they were kissing.

  Goodness gracious! The whole world was going to see a picture of her kissing Jack!

  Her eyes skittered to the caption and it read, Making Up, Britain’s Sexiest Tycoon Wins Back The Tiny Dynamo.

  “Holy heck,” she breathed and Jack flipped the paper shut and threw it to the side.

  “Ignore it,” he commanded.

  Her eyes lifted to his. “We were kissing.”

  “Ignore it.”

  “In your car,” she continued.

  “Belle, ignore it.”

  “I can’t ignore it!” she cried. “Everyone’s going to know! They’re going to know I’m pregnant. They’re going to know we’re living together. They’re going to –”

  Jack cut her off, “Yes, they are, and you’ve got to learn not to care, love.”

  Her eyes grew wide and she asked, “How? How do you learn not to care about that?”

  “You just do,” Jack replied calmly and she made a noise that sounded like she was being strangled so he leaned toward her. “Poppet, they’re not going to stop. I hate to tell you this but they’re never going to stop. I know. They’ve been at me all my life. And you’re too damned beautiful and way too photogenic for your own good. So they won’t leave you alone either. Once we have our child, they’ll go after him too. You need to learn to ignore it and get on with your life.”

  For a moment, she forgot about her new dire predicament mainly because he’d called her “too damned beautiful”.

  James Bennett thought she, Belle “Meek and Mild” Abbot was “too damned beautiful”?

  She couldn’t believe it.

  “Belle,” he called again and she realised her eyes had glazed over so she focussed on him and once she did, he asked, “Are you going to be all right?”

  She stared at him a moment and gave her body a shake before she sat back and resumed sipping her coffee.

  Her eyes went to the sea and she answered on a mini-lie, “Yes. I’m not all right now but I will be.”

  This was a mini-lie because she had no idea how to make herself “all right” with this latest mess. But she felt a trill race up her spine so her eyes slid to Jack to see he was smiling at her with an expression on his face that looked a whole lot like pride.

  “Good,” he murmured.

  A warm feeling slid into the pit of her belly and settled.

  There it was. She’d found a way to make herself “all right” and it wasn’t difficult at all.

  Then Jack had eaten his breakfast while Belle sipped her coffee and they did this in silence, Jack again acting as if this was the most natural thing in the world. He’d simply eaten and read through the paper while Belle sat silent and contemplative beside him.

  When he was done, he took her to work again and she knew, even before Jack parked (he didn’t stop and idle on the street this time), that it was going to be a feeding frenzy.

  And it was

  The minute Jack stopped, the paparazzi surrounded the car.

  Jack turned to Belle instantly.

  She couldn’t read his eyes through the green tinted lenses of his gold-framed aviator sunglasses, but she could see his jaw was tight right before he ordered, “Do not get out of the car until I open your door.”

  She nodded, slid her enormous, black framed and lensed designer sunglasses more firmly up the bridge of her nose and did what she was told.

  When she cleared the door, Jack’s arm slid around her shoulders. He slammed the door, bleeped the car locked and strode forward confidently, taking her right along with him.

  As they walked, she kept her head bowed and her body turned slightly into his.

  Jack didn’t bow his head. He walked like normal (albeit with Belle plastered to his side). He faced forward, his strides wide as if there weren’t photographers taking pictures and reporters shouting questions.

  Without her giving him directions, he guided her directly to her shop and took the keys out of her hands to let them in.

  She took off her glasses and moved to the alarm panel as he closed and locked the door.

  The flashes from the cameras were coming through her shop windows as she turned from the alarm and found Jack right there.

  As if they weren’t the focus of a dozen prying eyes, he got close, his hands came to her jaw and tipped her face up to his.

  “Explain your average day,” he demanded apropos of nothing and even though she thought this was a weird question, without hesitation she did.

  When she was done, he informed her, “I want you off the shop floor. You can work in your workshop but, until this dies down, I want you off the shop floor.”

  She stared at him like he’d grown three heads. “I can’t be off the shop floor. I only have Belinda helping me in the shop and she’s not even full-time.”

  “Hire a new shop assistant,” he replied instantly.

  “I can’t hire a new assistant. I just hired two new seamstresses. I can’t afford –”

  He interrupted her by stating in a voice not to be denied, “Then I’ll hire a new assistant.”

  “Jack!” she cried, shocked.

  His thumb moved to stroke her cheekbone and his face got close.

  “You’ve been facing this alone for a year. I’ll not have you face it alone any longer.” His voice was low and rumbly so she knew this statement meant something more to him than the something it meant to her and the something it meant to her made her heart lurch and her belly warm. He went on and his tone had gentled, “Now, poppet, hire the assistant and I’ll pay her salary. If you don’t have time, I’ll get Olive to do it.”

  Even though she had no clue who Olive was, all she could do was nod.

  He kissed her forehead, his hands tensed on her jaw then he left.

  That night after the whole family had dinner together, Jack disappeared with the dogs, Belle and Mom watched a movie then Belle had gone to bed alone.

  She woke up in the middle of the night to a dark room.

  She then mentally scanned her immediate environment and she felt no warmth, no arm at her waist, no additional presence in the room and she heard no dog tags.

  She should have been happy that Jack hadn’t slid into bed beside her. This was something she should not be allowing and something which she was, without a fight. Therefore this was something she didn’t understand but was also someplace she was not letting her mind go. Even with all that, she turned and checked the bed.

  No Jack.

  There was no relief this time, only disappointment.

  She was battling with this, what it might mean, how she’d be able to carry on for the next five months with her brain so addled and slowly falling back to sleep when she heard the door open and the jangle of dog tags.

  Seconds later, Jack settled behind her, drawing her body immediately into his as
she heard the dogs move around and then finally find their resting places.

  “Jack?” she whispered.

  “Go back to sleep, love,” he whispered back.

  Surprisingly, in mere minutes, she did.

  He was gone when she woke.

  Incidentally, they had an entire spread in the next day’s paper. This included Belle walking close to Jack’s side, his arm around her shoulders. Jack standing in her shop, his hands on her jaw tipping up her face to his as they talked. Jack kissing her forehead. And Jack coming to collect her in the evening, them walking back to his car the exact way they’d walked away from it that morning.

  Not incidentally, Gram had blown her stack when she saw it.

  “You must do something about this!” she demanded of Jack, waving the paper in the air when she arrived at the Saturday breakfast table where Jack and Belle had long since eaten. Rachel had just joined them and Yasmin and Joy had been with them for the last ten minutes.

  “What do you propose I do, Lila?” Jack asked calmly.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. Fix it!” Gram retorted hotly.

  “Gram –” Belle started.

  Gram cut her off while throwing the paper down and seating herself at the table, “Bellerina, you’re pregnant. You already have enough stress and strain to deal with without this in your face every morning, noon and night.”

  “I know I’m pregnant, Gram, but I’m also used to this. It’ll die down, trust me,” Belle replied.

  “When?” Gram shot back.

  “Soon,” Belle told her.

  “Jeez, Mom, take a chill pill. I think it’s sweet,” Mom recklessly informed them, ignored Gram’s eyes nearly popping out of her head and turned to Yasmin adding chattily, “I like the kissing picture best. In the car. But the one where Jack and Belle are talking and he’s got his hands on her face is nice too.”

  “Rachel Leonora Abbot!” Gram shouted.

  “What?” Mom asked.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Gram yelled.

  “Quit yelling at the breakfast table. I haven’t lost my mind.” Then Mom turned to Jack and she smiled. “Looks like you’re a good kisser.” Belle’s breath caught in her throat mainly because her heart had lodged there and Mom, not done, turned to Belle. “That’s lucky for you, honeypot.”