The thought of situation ship!Jack Abbot who just wants someone to be around and dote on but can’t let himself commit to a full relationship. It stars after he meets you at a bar one night, the soft fabric of a summer dress not at all fit for such a place draped over your figure.
He quietly watches you throughout the night, the way you keep trying to grab your dates attention but he keeps brushing you off while talking with some of his friends. Eventually he notices you walk off, lip pressed into a pout and approach the bar for a drink. He watches as you spend the next while sipping on a margarita, your date never once coming over. When he notices you getting close to the bottom he waves over the bartender and asks him to make another for you.
You tilt your head in confusion when the bar tender sets the glass down in front of you but he just smiles and nods his head Jacks way. Your eyes meet and he tips his head as if tipping the brim of a hat. You smile softly and mirror his movement, throwing in a wink to finish it out. He has to force himself to look away before he starts blushing.
Jacks been through a lot. He’s been through combat, marriage and made a widower, years in the ER, and more recently volunteering for SWAT for fun. He knew he was messed up and in all honesty, he had very little desire to change it. He was content. All he was missing was some friendly company, you know, when the house got too quiet and he runs out of things to distract himself with.
Over a couple weeks he would see you come in from time to time and he’d always order a margarita for you. In return you’d usually come over and sit with him, maroon painted lips pulled into a soft smile.
Your conversations varied based on how your days had gone. If he was ever there it was on his day off, nights when there was nothing left to distract himself. He never said much but he told you enough, the rest you gathered from context clues.
He worked in the ER as an attending and the residents would drive him nuts on occasion but he loved them like they were his kids. Honestly the place was like a second family to him with how much he would talk about people there.
He was a vet, honorably discharged after losing his leg.
The night you finally noticed the ring on his left hand you immediately asked. “There isn’t a Mrs Abbot I should let know about how you spend your check here, should I?” You asked, concern lacing your tone. He told you he was widowed but he kept his ring on because he still felt he could never let her go.
Something changed between the two of you that night. He was a little more open after that and you started noticing how even though he clearly was interested in you, he never pushed to take things outside the bar.
One night, when you two leave particularly late and it’s raining quite hard he finally makes a move and offers to drive you home. “You really don’t have to.” You try to say, “Im just a couple blocks from here. I don’t mind the rain.”
“Nonsense. Let you walk home in this, with that lovely dress? What sort of man would I be if I did that?” He says. You two are laughing the whole way as you run across the street to his truck. He’s holding his jacket up to cover the both of you as well as he can but the height difference means he’s still getting soaked.
He throws open the door for you so you can get inside then heads around to get in himself. You two talk about everything and nothing as you direct him back to your apartment, the pattering rain and occasional thunder outside providing a comforting atmosphere.
“This is it here.” You say pointing to your building up ahead. He pulls over and parks out front. There’s a quiet moment between you two, eyes on one another, waiting. “I’ll see you around.” He says quietly, the smell of whiskey still on his breath even though he’d stopped drinking hours ago. His eyes trace your face, the streetlights casting your features in a beautiful amber glow.
“I’ll see you.” You respond, everything left unsaid clawing at your throat for an escape. His eyes drop to your lips for just a moment but that’s all it takes. You lean in slowly, as if he were a deer that may bolt at any moment. He pressed his forehead to yours, leaning in a way that kept his lips just far enough from you that you could not reach but his nose brushed yours ever so gently.
Your name slipped past his lips, the word so quiet it seemed he feared it would break slipping past his teeth. “I can’t give you what you want.” He raised his hand to hold the back of your neck. “Im no good for you.”
“Who said you had to be?” You replied. You smelled like morning dew and citrus, it was intoxicating. He wanted you more than anything but he also knew he’d never be able to give you the life you deserved. You would always be the other woman if you were with him. It was a fate he would wish upon anyone, especially not you.
Loving you meant Jack Abbot would have to stop running and that was something he only did once, and he lost everything because of it.
“I’ll never be able to give you more than this.” He said, finger tips tracing over the shape of your jaw.
“Im an independent woman Dr. Abbot. If I needed more I wouldn’t be looking for it in a man I figured out a long time ago.” You grin, your eyes locking with his. “A friend and good sex. If you can give me that then you have nothing to worry about.”
His grin widened and apprehension melted away. “Well in that case, I can give you the world sweetheart.” He tipped your head up and his lips slotted with yours as though they were made to go together. He tasted of alcohol and mint.