Promises (SMAU) - Jack Abbot
“It’s the promises, we break them every time. And every consequence, we kiss between the lines. And do it all again, I guess I just feel better around you.”
After braving the chaos of the night shift, there wasn’t much that fazed you. The worst of the worst had been thrown at you, and you’d managed to stand tall through it all. So how is it that your attending old enough to be your father has suddenly brought you to your knees? To make matters worse, he was beginning to feel the same way about you.
15. Promises
“It’s the promises, we make them every time. And every word you said, I hang on every line. I’d do it all again. I guess I just feel better around you.”
You can find the masterlist to this series here.
If you see a typo, no you don’t. Please pretend it’s not there, I’m not going back to find and fix it. Your girl is too tired.
This is the last chapter! I’m so sad that this fic is over, it was so much fun to write and get into Jack’s character. I have such a love for this show and the representation it has, seeing all your lovely comments about it has meant so much to me. I really hope you enjoy this last chapter.
For everyone wanting to see more, I’ll be doing one of these for Frank next! I have lots of ideas already for it, so it’ll come soon once I get it planned out a little better. I really love the SMAU format, and it seems like you guys do too, so I’ll be sticking with it for a bit.
Thank you to everyone who has read along and supported my work, I very much appreciate it! I hope you’ve enjoyed this fic, it’s been so fun to write. Both this and Godlight have gotten me through my writers block and I’ve been enjoying this form of content, so I’m glad everyone seems to be liking it. Y’all are the best and I love you dearly. Enjoy the end of Promises!
I’ll be back soon with the SMAU for Frank :)
—
“That dog runs faster than any dog I’ve ever seen,” Jack huffed as he walked through the front door, Achilles trotting in after him like he hadn’t just spent the past hour chasing a ball up and down the street. “He’s got three legs and he moves like he has thirty.”
Achilles trotted over to the couch, the little hop walk he did never failing to make you smile. He jumped up and settled next to you, resting his head on your knee. You ran your fingers through the fluff of his fur behind his ears. Jack made his way over to the couch to sit next to you, slipping his prosthetic off with a huff.
“Need the heating pad?” you asked absentmindedly as you continued watching the movie you put on.
Jack played it cool every time he took his prosthetic off after a long day, but you knew he was coming home in pain half the time. More often than not, he refused your help. He still clung to that stubborn pride that made him think he couldn’t show any weakness around you. You’d break through that barrier one day.
“No,” he murmured, reaching over to pat Achilles on his hip. “Look at him. He’s not even panting.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “And yet, you sound like you ran a marathon.”
“Feel free to be the one to take him out next time.”
“But you do such a good job,” you mused, grinning wide when he rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to deprive you.”
“We should get Robby over here some time. I’m getting too old for this.”
You paused your movie, turning to face him. “Don’t you think Achilles looks a bit like Robby?”
Abbot raised a brow, looking down at Achilles.
There definitely was something about him that reminded you of Robby. Maybe it was the same brown eyes, all big and sad even when they’re happy. Or maybe it was the coloring, the shades of brown with patches of gray. It even could’ve been his general behavior, with his grumpy attitude every time he was fed a little later than normal, or how easy it was for him to take a nap. All of the similarities were easy to spot once you started looking.
“Give him a pair of readers, and I’d say they’re twins,” Jack mused, propping his leg up on the coffee table.
You frowned as he winced. “Seriously, I can get the heating pad—”
“Sweetheart—”
“Oh, for fucks sake,” you sighed, gently shifting Achilles over to rest on Jack instead so you could stand. “Quit being a martyr. I’m getting it and the ibuprofen.”
Jack wanted to protest. He wanted to sit there and sulk like a child at the thought of your kindness. But he didn’t — for once, he swallowed his pride and nodded.
“Fine…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you sighed exasperatedly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you passed him on your way to the kitchen cabinets.
—
Despite being at Jack’s so often, you did still live at home.
Frank had been trying for months to get everyone in the same room, everyone being you, him, Mel and Becca, and his children. But with everyone’s unpredictable schedules, it was a Herculean task. He’d finally managed it though, smiling when you walked in the door with a bottle of sparkling juice.
“Honey, I’m home!”
He rolled his eyes, pulling a tray of something out of the oven as he yelled up the stairs. “Kids! Your Aunt is here!”
You could hear the scuffle of tiny feet racing around before they were bounding down the stairs, nearly knocking each other over to get to you. Tanner launched himself into your arms once he landed on the last step, Penny wrapping herself around your leg seconds later. You had to hold onto the wall to keep from toppling over.
“There’s my favorite kids,” you smiled, kneeling to be at their eye level. “What’s Daddy making?”
“Breakfast!” Tanner beamed, leaning into your side.
You raised a brow, breathing in to realize that you did in fact smell something like tater tots. “Breakfast, huh? For dinner?”
Frank shuffled around in the kitchen, calling out over his shoulder. “Tanner’s favorite, Mel’s too. What, you’re too good for breakfast now? Chateau de Abbot serving up Michelin star dining over there?”
“Jack burnt toast this morning, actually,” you chuckled, heading into the kitchen with the kids hot on your tail. “Need any help?”
“Daddy doesn’t like us near the stove,” Penny babbled, making grabby hands up at you.
You felt your heart ache in your chest, reaching down to pick her up and settle her on your hip. You watched Frank cook in silence, the kids chattering amongst themselves. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door, and Mel and Becca were letting themselves in.
“Hi!” Mel smiled when she saw you, pulling you into a hug. “Missed you.”
You squeezed her tight before reaching for Becca, doing the same. “Are those cookies I smell?”
“I made them this morning!”
“Frank, I don’t know how you don’t weigh 500 pounds,” you teased, taking the tin of cookies to spread them out onto a plate.
“I get a lot of steps in chasing after your dumbass,” he mused, whispering the curse so his children wouldn’t hear from the couch they’d moved to once they lost interest in the cooking. “Speaking of dumbasses, where’s Abbot?”
You rolled your eyes. “Work. I’ll tell him you said hello.”
“You could’ve brought Achilles.”
“He’s with his Uncle Robby,” you mused, pulling out your phone to show him a picture Robby had texted you earlier of him and Achilles on his couch together under a blanket with a book. “Look at this shit. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Langdon stifled a laugh, turning back to the stove. “They look like twins.”
“That’s what I said!”
After dinner when things had quieted down, the kids had gone upstairs to play, and Mel and Becca had said their goodbyes, you sat on the couch with him finishing off the bottle of sparkling juice. You shifted to rest your head on his shoulder, yawning.
“What are you, ninety?” he asked, but he shifted to wrap his arm around you so you could lay against his side. “Is the old man rubbing off on you?”
“He sleeps like the dead, but he snores like he’s very much alive. If I don’t kick him to turn over onto his stomach, he snores loudly. He had a long shift and I didn’t have it in me to wake him up.”
Frank hummed, letting you rest against him.
“You know,” he murmured after a moment of silence. “I’ve had a speech prepared for months.”
You frowned, turning to look up at him. “What do you mean? For what?”
“In case he did something stupid and broke your heart again,” he sighed, pulling you closer like the thought hurt him nearly as much as it hurt you. “It was a two parter. A nice one for you, a homicidal one for him. But he’s had his shit together, I gotta hand it to him. Haven’t had to use it yet.”
You blinked at him, considering. “Think you’ll have to?”
He shrugged, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I hope not.”
You groaned, leaning into him. He just held you, as thankful for the comfort as you were. You didn’t get many moments like this together these days with your backwards schedules and your nights away. He’d missed you.
“Daddy?” Penny whispered as she creeped down the stairs. “Is she sleeping?”
You sat up, reaching for her. “No, pretty girl. Come here.”
She practically launched herself into your arms, settling between you and Frank. “You smell funny.”
“Penny,” Frank gently scolded. “Be nice.”
You laughed, holding her close. “No, she’s right. Got cornered by Robby today for a hug. Been smelling like Irish Spring all day.”
“And that’s worse than Abbot’s signature Old Spice?”
“They sound ancient when you put it that way.”
“That’s because they are, honey,” he mused, laughing at Penny’s scrunched up little face.
—
As happy as Robby was that the two of you were finally in a good place, the domesticity of it all was getting to him. You were disgustingly cute, as he liked to put it, and he made it a point to audibly groan and gripe every time you and Jack did something even remotely couple-esque.
Today was no different as he walked into the breakroom an hour before shift change, raising a brow when he found you and Jack bickering next to the coffee machine.
“He’s not even dirty!” you argued, “I give him a bath every week.”
“He’s perfectly fine on the ridiculously expensive bed I got him that’s two feet from us on the floor,” Jack groaned, tired of arguing with you for the third time this week about letting Achilles sleep in his bed with him.
“He gets lonely! And you know you like to cuddle with him, you just won’t admit it to yourself.”
“I do not!”
“Do too—”
“Do not—”
“Do too—”
“Do not—”
“Oh, for fucks sake,” Robby groaned, his silent approach making you jump. “Get out of my way before I kick both of your asses.”
You scoffed, stepping aside so he could get to the fresh pot of coffee. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?”
“Gloria wants me to finish that bible length stack of paperwork she dropped on my desk last week,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Figured I’d get a head start before rounds.”
“Want any help?” you offered, earning a tired smile.
“I’m good, kid. Is the board a shit show out there?”
“Not for long,” you heard Dana call from the nurses station.
You left Jack and Robby in the break room as you walked over, pulling her into a hug. “Dana, I swear to god. If you show up early to one more night shift on top of the fuck ton you already work, I’m gonna break your kneecaps so you have to stay home. Benji would thank me for it.”
“Benji can kiss my ass,” she chuckled, squeezing you tight before setting her sights on the board of chaos. “Jesus. Rough night?”
“I thought I died and went to hell for a second there,” Shen interjected, walking over and slumping against the counter.
Ellis followed, clearly tired but a lot more put together. Emma came with her, then Mateo. One look at Mateo’s sad little eyes and you were folding, holding out your arms for a hug.
“Mama, I’m tired,” he whined, dramatically collapsing into your arms. “Get me out of here.”
“Javadi is coming in soon,” you teased, chuckling when his cheeks heated up.
“On second thought, maybe I can last another hour…”
You laughed, ruffling his hair. “That’s my boy.”
“I vote we get the hell out of here and go get drunk,” Shen suggested, pushing himself up from off the counter.
Ellis scoffed. “It’s six in the morning, Shen.”
“And five o’clock somewhere.”
—
What you had with Jack wasn’t perfect. He still had bad days — really bad days, sometimes.
He still struggled with letting you in on those days. He’d push you away if you let him. But you’d learned how to get through to him when he really needed you, whether he was ready to admit that or not.
Your phone rang in the middle of the night late one evening, waking you up on what was supposed to be your day off. You groaned as you blindly reached in the dark for your phone, squinting to read the caller ID. You shot up once you realized it was Jack, immediately answering.
“Hello?”
There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line. You could hear nothing but the faint sound of his ragged breathing, the sheets around him rustling as he clung to them. You opened your mouth to speak when he let out a shuddering sigh, clearing his throat.
“Just needed to hear your voice, sweetheart. I’ll let you go.”
“What? No—”
“You need your sleep,” he tried to reason, already moving to hang up.
“Jack Abbot!” you scolded, making him pause. “Don’t you dare hang up on me.”
It was silent for another long moment, neither of you brave enough to break the silence. You listened to the sounds of each other's breathing when he finally spoke again.
“I can’t sleep.”
You sighed, trying to make your tone gentler. “Do you want me to come over? I can come over.”
“No.”
You rolled your eyes in frustration. “Jack.”
“I’m good,” he tried to reassure you again. “Really. A little shaken up, but I’m fine. I just needed to hear your voice.”
You felt something crack in your chest at his words. There was so much you could say in these moments, but somehow none of it ever seemed to be the right thing. It was next to impossible getting him to have a calm and collected adult conversation with you when it came to this side of him.
“What do you need?” you finally asked.
“I don’t know.”
His response was immediate. Honest. It broke your heart.
“Want to stay on the phone until you fall asleep?”
He sucked in a shaky breath. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Let Achilles up on the bed. He’s a good cuddler.”
“Already did.”
You smiled to yourself, affection warming your chest. “Good.”
—
“Have you seen my charger?” you asked, running around the room already late for work.
“Nightstand,” he called out from the kitchen, getting ready for his very rare day off by opening a beer.
“I checked there already,” you groaned, pulling the sheets back to see if you’d somehow missed it there. “Genuinely where else could it be?”
“Check the top drawer of the dresser,” he yelled, too busy making you a coffee to come help you check.
You rolled your eyes, walking over to the dresser. The top drawer of his dresser was where things went to die. When his room got too cluttered (your fault, really) for his military brain to handle, he’d scoop up the small things and tuck them away for later. You’d lost half your overnight bag in there at some point or another, always having to fish around in hopes that whatever you were missing had been placed there. You pulled the drawer open only to pause, freezing as you stared.
A pack of gum, a necklace, a bottle of your perfume, two tshirts, one hoodie you’d stolen and never given back, three pairs of underwear, a pair of socks, and not one but two chargers sat carefully tucked away in the drawer.
“Jack?” you called out, tucking one of the chargers into your bag. “When did all my stuff get here?”
“Around the same time as the dog,” he mused, pouring your coffee into a tumbler for you to take with you.
“Right…”
“You’ve gotta go, sweetheart,” he said as he came around the corner, handing you your coffee. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”
You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you headed for the door. “No. It’s your day off, and Robby is coming over. You’re gonna do…whatever it is you two do when you hang out. Knitting? Book club?”
“Am I a hundred?”
“You’re about halfway there!” you called out over your shoulder, rushing out the door towards your car before he had a chance to respond. “Love you! Be good! Bye!”
Jack shook his head, sitting back back down on the couch.
An hour later, he and Robby were on the couch pretending to be interested in whatever sports game was on, two or three beers deep each.
“We’re getting dangerously close to semi functional and fulfilled adult lives here,” Robby mused, taking another swig. “Is the missus coming home later?”
Jack shrugged. “Don’t know. She mentioned something about your residents and karaoke.”
“That’s Santos’s doing,” Robby grinned.
Jack gave up on the game and tossed Robby the remote, letting him flip through channels until he landed on something decent. They watched for a while before Robby got up to grab them both another round.
“Is that a pie?” he called from the kitchen, clearly amused. “You bake?”
“No.”
“She bakes?”
“Becca bakes.”
“Who?”
“Mel’s sister. Jesus, man. Pay attention.”
“Well, excuse me,” Robby huffed, settling back on the couch with another beer. “Didn’t know you were so well versed with my residents and their inner lives.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not. But she is, and I like to listen. You can have a piece of that pie if you want. She’s constantly coming over with shit like that.”
“I’d be having to buy new pants.”
“I think she’s trying to fatten me up,” Jack mused, chuckling. “Definitely gonna have to hit the gym more if she keeps it up.”
“One of these days, you’ll succumb to the reality of getting old,” Robby sighed as he patted his belly.
“Over my dead body.”
“Should I be offended?” Robby asked, adjusting himself so his stomach poked out even further.
Jack smiled. “Nah, man. You carry it well. I’d be all whiny about it. God knows she’s had enough whining from me.”
“She’s a saint.”
“Of the highest order,” Jack agreed as he clinked his bottle against Robby’s. “Cheers.”
—
After a concerning text and a quick stop at Taco Bell, you were banging on Robby’s door with food in hand and Achilles in tow.
Robby finally answered the door with a huff, hair sticking up in different directions and his cheeks flushed like he’d just been face down in a pillow.
“Can’t a man get some sleep around here?” he asked, but he opened the door wider for you to come in. “Give me my boy.”
You rolled your eyes, unhooking the leash from Achilles’s collar so he could jump up onto the couch where Robby was reaching for him. “You’re having a bad day, so I’ll refrain from commenting about how my dog likes you more than me.”
“We’re kindred spirits.”
You sat on the couch across from him, passing him his food. “Bad session?”
“I’m beginning to question why I started to go to therapy in the first place.”
“Because you need it, old man,” you sighed, reaching over to take his hand. “Are we gonna talk? Or are we just gonna sit here in silence? I’m good with either.”
Robby sighed, squeezing your hand. “Silence, please.”
“Fine by me.”
You sat there with him for a while, making sure he ate. You knew he didn’t want to finish, but he managed to choke down the rest just to make you happy. When he was finished, he looked up at you sheepishly.
“You tell Jack?”
You shook your head.
“Good,” he sighed, chuckling darkly. “One helicopter parent is bad enough.”
“Why does everyone treat me like their mother?”
“Stop mothering and people will stop.”
You sighed, conceding. “If I don’t, who will?”
“Dana?”
“Well, who will mother her?”
“Good point,” he nodded, resting his head on the back of the couch. “You two could give the Navy a run for their money.”
It was quiet another moment, aside from Achilles nudging at Robby’s knee with his nose. He sneezed, making Robby laugh as he wiped at his skin with his sleeve. Achilles licked his palm in apology before settling himself back in Robby’s lap.
“He thinks he’s a lap dog.”
“He is a lap dog,” you reassured, talking in the baby voice you reserved for Achilles. “Aren’t you, baby? You fit, you sit.”
Robby chuckled, smoothing his hand down Achilles’s spine. “I thought you and Jack were crazy at first getting a dog, but he’s grown on me.”
“He’s irresistible.”
“You know that’s the most commitment I’ve ever seen that man show in thirty years, right?”
You looked up at him, bewildered. “Huh?”
“He got you a dog. The dog lives in his house. Your things are in his house. You’re in his house—”
“I still live at home—”
“Yeah, yeah. We get it. But I think you’ll be packed up with your shit in a moving truck and Mel and Becca will take over your lease by year's end.”
“What—”
“Not the point,” Robby cut you off before you could spiral. “My point is that I’ve never really seen him build his life around someone before.”
You managed to stifle your shock, shaking your head. “But he was married.”
Robby shrugged. “Yeah. And he loved her to death. But he spent half that marriage in the Middle East, then med school, then the hospital. He didn’t have time for a dog. He didn’t sit down long enough to live a life. He sits with you. He’s not just existing, he’s enjoying. He’s resting. That’s new for him.”
You stared at him a long moment before smacking his arm. “Do you want me to cry? Shut the fuck up.”
Robby laughed, a genuine laugh. “There she is.”
—
One evening late into the night shift, you knew you were crashing. Even Shen’s coffee that he’d oh so graciously brought you didn't do the trick, and you were fading fast.
“Jesus,” Shen muttered as he caught up to you at the nurses station, smoothing a hand up and down your arm to wake you up. “You’ve seen better days.”
“You have such a way with words.”
“What do you need?”
“I’ve got it,” Jack said as he passed by you, nudging his own mug towards you. “Don’t drink the shit in the break room, it’s been sitting out all night.”
He walked away without a word, but the damage was already done. Less than ten seconds later, your gaggle of children was swarmed around you to taunt and tease.
“So domestic,” Ellis fanned herself, clutching at her chest.
“I think it’s cute,” Emma smiled as she leaned into you, accepting your side hug.
“Mama and Dad got it going on,” Mateo cheesed from where he was sitting behind a desk catching up on his charts.
“Ewww,” Shen whined, sliding your mug back over to you. “What is this shit?”
Jack passed by again on his way to a patient. “Oat milk. She gets stomach aches. Take another sip out of my mug at your own peril.”
“Yes, boss,” Shen sheepishly saluted.
When he was gone, Ellis turned to you with a smirk. “He’s drinking oat milk in his coffee now on the off chance that you might want some?”
“Or maybe he likes oat milk,” you tried to reason.
“Not a chance. Never seen him drink it once. We don’t even keep it stocked in the fridges.”
You narrowed your eyes at the group around you, finally pushing yourself up to walk away. “I hate you all.”
“Down horrendous!”
“Whipped beyond belief!”
“Cuties!”
“Love you too, Mama!”
—
The first time you went to the cemetery with Jack, you didn’t say a word.
It didn’t feel like your place to. This was his wife, his past life, his private moment. Being with him and standing in the grief pooling around him felt like more than either of you could bear.
You didn’t even get out of the car. You just watched from the passenger seat, nose inches from the glass like Achilles’s. He swapped out the flowers like he said he would and stood there for a few minutes with rigid shoulders and a hung head, before turning back to the car. Achilles let out a happy whine, his tail wagging as Jack approached. It was the only thing that made him smile as he climbed back into the car, tight lipped with a distant look in his eye. He didn’t say a word as he put the car in reverse, settling a warm hand on your knee as he turned back out onto the street.
The second time he asked you to go with him, you knew it would be different.
You went with him to the store to buy flowers. They had calla lilies this time, which was a good sign. You felt like you were going to puke the whole way to the cemetery, but you put on a brave face. He needed you to be strong. It wasn’t your turn to fall apart.
He parked with a sigh, walking around to the other side of the car to help you out. He picked Achilles up next, setting him down gently to hook his leash to his collar. The three of you walked over to the headstone quietly. You hung back a few feet as he switched out the flowers, watching as he pressed a kiss to his palm before he placed his hand on the headstone. You could feel a familiar stinging behind your eyes, but you willed the tears not to fall.
“This is her,” he finally murmured out loud towards the grave, looking back at you with a small smile. “The woman who puts up with me.”
You managed a laugh, passing him the leash so you could step a little closer. “Nice to finally meet you.”
The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on you. You were standing in the middle of a cemetery at 2pm on a random Tuesday, talking to a grave as if the person inside could hear you. You both chose in the moment to believe that she could. It felt a lot less silly that way.
“She steals my hoodies like you did,” Jack mused, earning a gasp.
“Jack! Don’t tell her that!”
“What?” he laughed, though the sound was close to a sob. “She’d commend you for it.”
You turned back towards the grave, kneeling. “Don’t listen to anything bad he’s told you about me. None of it is true.”
Jack scoffed. “Some of it is true.”
You glared up at him before turning back to her. “This is Achilles. He cost us 15 bucks at the shelter and he was worth every penny. We think he looks like Robby. She saw Robby with his readers on, right?”
“Yeah, she did,” Jack nodded. “Bought him his first pair, actually.”
You felt the weight of his words strike you in the chest, but you choked down the emotion you felt threatening to bubble its way up your throat. You could feel Jack place a comforting hand on your shoulder. It was shaking. You reached up to hold it.
You smoothed your finger over a petal of the fresh flowers with your free hand, clearing your throat. “Thank you for loving him first. I’ll do my best to measure up.”
Jack’s hand on your shoulder tightened. Achilles whined from where he stood next to you until Jack reached a hand down to scratch behind his ears, a welcome comfort and distraction. You quickly wiped at your eyes, taking a deep breath.
Jack stared at the grave a long moment before sighing. “I miss you like hell, baby. But I’m doing good. I promised I would try to be. I think I am.”
You nodded, unable to stop yourself from laughing. “I caught him and Robby watching National Geographic a few days ago. They were watching a documentary about penguins. I was told to go out and have fun with my friends because they’d be watching the game. They were watching penguins migrate.”
“It was very informative,” he defended, wiping at his own eyes with a chuckle. “Living life to the fullest, as you can see.”
He helped you get to your feet, his arm banded around your waist like he might die if he wasn’t touching you. He passed Achilles's leash back to you, leaning over to straighten the flowers one more time.
“Love you,” he muttered to the grave once more before looking back at you. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”
You took one last look at the grave before nodding. “Mhm.”
He led you and Achilles back to the car, loading him up into the backseat. Achilles immediately sprawled across the backseat like he owned it, resting his head on his paws.
“Spoiled brat,” Jack huffed.
“He’s had a hard day.”
“Clearly.”
Jack pulled out onto the road, the radio streaming quietly in the background. The weight that had been anchored in your gut slowly dissipated the further you got from the cemetery.
You knew the next time he asked you to go would be easier. It would still be hard, but standing in his grief with him rather than next to him wouldn’t feel so impossible. You’d bring flowers, and you’d sit and talk. Achilles could spend some time out in the sun. You probably would never know the right thing to say, but that was okay. Showing up with him was enough for now.
“Thank you,” he murmured, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “You were perfect.”
“I don’t know about that—”
“Couldn’t have gone better if we tried,” he said softly, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. “That meant a lot.”
“Could’ve done without the hoodie story,” you mused, earning a laugh.
He smiled softly. “Could’ve done without the National Geographic story. It was about penguins and seals, by the way.”
“Well, excuse me,” you laughed, reaching over to slide his sunglasses on for him.
Jack caught you by the wrist once you moved to pull away, pressing a kiss to your palm. You practically melted into a puddle right there in your seat. He laced his fingers with yours, settling them in your lap.
You smiled, squeezing his hand tight.
The road home stretched ahead of you, the sun spilling over the dash. You settled into its warmth, holding Jack’s hand. You closed your eyes. Jack smiled as he glanced over at you.
“My place or yours?” he murmured.
You were too comfortable to care. “Ours.”
“Hmm?” he asked, grinning like an idiot. “Ours?”
You cracked an eye open, shrugging sheepishly. “I meant yours. Call it what you want, old man. Yours, ours…Achilles’s. Whatever floats your boat.”
Jack rolled his eyes, turning his eyes back towards the road. “Yes ma’am. Ours it is.”
—
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