Page 8 of Jack of Hearts

But he’s hot on my heels.

“I need you to believe me,” he says.

“Alright. I believe you.”

“But you don’t. I can see it all over your face.” He comes to stand in front of me again.

God, he smells good. Like freshly shaved wood and ivory soap.

“Look me in the eyes, Lucy, and tell me you believe I want you. It’s just complicated.”

I look up into his stupid blue eyes—why do they have to be that blue? It seems unnecessary for someone to have eyes so blue they compete with the big Texas sky.

Staring into those incredible eyes, a horrible thought occurs to me. “Are you married?”

He swallows hard. “No, of course not.”

“Girlfriend? Are you gay?”

“It’s none of those things.”

“Then it has to be me. Listen, Jack, I get it, and it’s totally okay. We can have a professional relationship. We can be friends. Whatever. But let’s not do the whole ‘it’s me, not you’ bullshit. It’s okay to not find me attractive.”

I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’ve spent my whole life being too much for most people. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to beg for anyone’s affection.

If I never begged for my mom’s affection, I sure as hell am not going to beg for Jack’s.

Almost as if he’s staring into my very soul, his blue eyes turn stormy and he steps even closer to me. “It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

I don’t say anything, but I can feel my cheeks getting hot and my eyes starting to sting. I will not cry in front of him while he’s pretending not to reject me. The last thing I want is rejection with a hot side of pity.

He scrapes his hand across his short hair. “I’m a virgin.”

His words are so low and quiet, I nearly miss them.

I search his face, but he’s not looking at me. “What?”

Then his eyes meet mine and I see nothing but shame. “You heard me. Please don’t make me say it again.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m twenty-eight fucking years old, Lucy. I’ve been all around the goddamn world with the army and yet here I am.” He motions to his pelvic area. “Untouched like a goddamn Victorian woman.”

“A Victorian woman?” I say and fight the smile because I am one hundred percent not making fun of him.

He glances at me and a chuckle bursts out. “Yeah, I don’t know where that came from.”

“If all the blue-haired old ladies in this town knew the world’s hottest living virgin was in our tiny town, they’d all be clutching their pearls.”

He rolled his eyes.

I cup his face. “I’m sure you have a reason or a story or whatever and I’d love to hear it if and when you want to tell me. But I get it. No further explanation required. But don’t you dare be embarrassed. I was a virgin once before too.”

“Oh yeah? How old were you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Sixteen. I was a wild child. And looking back, that is not how I wish it had happened.”

He nods. “I should probably get the supplies unloaded from the truck and get started.”