#soft jack

You rest your head in your hands and take a few steadying breaths as you try to push down the urge to cry, scream, or both. You’ve worked so hard in this job and to just get berated for the smallest mistake feels terrible. You are in the middle of trying to remind yourself why you still work at this company when a series of knocks startles you. Your eyes flick to the clock and see that it’s much later than you thought. Shit.

You walk over to the door and open it just as Jack raises his hand to knock again. He pauses in midair and gives you that devastating, charming smile of his.

“Hey sugar, you look gorgeous,” he says as he pulls his cowboy hat off and dips down to kiss you.

You look down at your yoga pants and oversized sweater as you let him in and cringe. “I’m so sorry, work ran late and I lost track of time. I know our reservation is soon, I need to get changed,” you apologize as you close the door and turn to face him.

He puts both of his large, warm hands on your cheeks and holds his lips just above yours. “Doesn’t mean you don’t look mighty pretty.” He kisses you again, lightly. You wrap your arms around his waist, under his warm leather coat. He is wearing your favorite midnight blue button-up, the one that hugs those broad shoulders just right and has the beautiful little onyx buttons.

Resting your forehead against his chest, you take a deep breath as Jack just holds you for a moment.

“Something the matter?” he asks with a worried tone, tilting your face up so he can look into your eyes. Jack always looks at you, really looks at you, as though he can see into your soul. You’ve only been dating a few months but when he locks eyes with you, it feels like so much longer.

You try to put on a smile. “Just a long week. I’m really looking forward to this new place tonight,” you say as you pull away from him. “Give me five minutes and we’ll be out the door.” You walk back into your bedroom and start searching for the dress you swear you picked up from the dry cleaners that has now disappeared.

Jack is chattering about the daily special and you hear something about a signature cocktail that he is dying to try, but you barely register what he is saying. Your shoulders are slumped as you stand in front of the closet, hands frozen over the clothes you don’t feel like changing into, as you feel the tears start to well up.

Suddenly you feel Jack standing behind you and you jump a little as his arms wrap around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder and asks with a quiet sigh, “What happened, honeybee?”

You shake your head and lean back against him. “Just ended the day with a really bad meeting, that’s all. I’m fine. Tell me more about that cocktail you want to try?”

Jack places a single kiss on your neck before slowly spinning you around to face him. He stares at you, brown eyes intense and brows drawn together. “I won’t force you to do anything but I won’t stand for you minimizing how you feel just to put on a brave face for me, alright?” You don’t know why you even tried to keep it from him, you know that Jack was far too observant for that.

You nod and the tears blur your vision before they spill down your cheeks, the weight of the week finally too much. Jack doesn’t say anything, and instead he just lets you cry against him while he murmurs some comforting words into your hair. When the tears start to subside and you pull back from him, you see two wet spots on his perfectly ironed shirt.

“Shit, I cried all over you. I’m so sorry,” you say as you try to scrub the wet spots away. Jack takes your hand in his.

“Trust me, this shirt has seen a helluva lot worse. Now listen. I’m going to call the restaurant and cancel our reservation, and I’ll rustle up something good to eat while you go take a bath or a shower.” Jack laughs as you smile apologetically at him. “Shoot, you can just change clothes or you can stay just as you are. I don’t mind any which way. Just come find me when you’re feeling better, okay?”

You nod again and Jack walks out into the kitchen. He knows that you need a little bit of alone time to recenter; of course he has noticed that too. You go wash your face, trying not to grimace at your red-rimmed eyes as you take in your appearance in the mirror. After a few minutes of quiet and a change of clothes, you walk into your small kitchen where Jack is humming a tune as he searches through your spice cabinet.

He doesn’t see you yet and you take him in for a moment. His jacket is gone and his sleeves are rolled up, showing his strong forearms as they reach for the garlic powder. His hat is sitting on the table in front of his chair.

His chair, you realize.

Jack has made such an impression in your life in such a short time. He’s made you feel so special, so cared for, so accepted. Your place echoes with loneliness without his boots by the door and the smell of his cologne clinging to your sheets.

He is moving around the kitchen with familiarity, even though you know cooking is not his strong suit. His moves are graceful and you can’t help but feel your heart swell as he shakes his little butt around and throws the kitchen towel over his shoulder as he dances around to the song in his head.

He turns around mid-shimmy and smiles. “There’s my beautiful girl! Good thing I stashed some steaks in your fridge the other day because you don’t have a whole lot to choose from. We are taking ourselves shopping bright and early tomorrow morning,” he says with that wide grin of his.

Immediately you burst into tears again, and Jack hurries over to you. “Shit, sugar, what did I do? We don’t have to go to the market in the morning. I’ll send out for food.” He hugs you close. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

You shake your head against him, because these tears aren’t like the ones from earlier. “You didn’t. I just…I’m so glad I have you,” you sniffle and wipe your wet cheeks. Your chest feels like it might burst from how much you love him.

He says your name fondly. “I’m so glad you’re all mine.”

Jack takes your hand in his and pulls you fully into the kitchen. “Now look at what we’ve got here. Got some nice steaks from the butcher and you had a few eggs in the fridge. It ain’t much, but this cowboy’s breakfast will make a real nice supper. Don’t you think, sugar?”

You smile and nod, and lean up to slot your lips against his gently. Jack smiles into the kiss, making you giggle against his lips when his mustache tickles you. You stand next to him as he sears the steaks and puts them in the oven to finish cooking. While you wait, Jack starts humming again and pulls you against his body as he sways around the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about dinner. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say quietly. He spins you around and quickly pulls you back to him with his hand on your hip.

“Make up what now? This is the best dinner I could imagine,” he says in a way that makes you know he’s sincere. You don’t say anything and instead mold your body to his, his strong arms holding you tight against his softer belly, as he continues humming random notes and leading you slowly across the tiles.

You feel safe, and loved, and relaxed for the first time all day. Slow dancing with Jack is one of your favorite things, even though you're not very good at it. Jack doesn't care.

He whispers I love you. You whisper it back.

After a few minutes, Jack pulls away long enough to get the steaks out of the oven to rest. You show him how you’ve been practicing cracking an egg with one hand, perfectly breaking two into the skillet.

“Look at my honeybee, so talented!” Jack exclaims.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Tell that to my boss,” you say with a frown.

Jack pulls the eggs off the heat and starts slicing the steaks. “Listen, if they won’t appreciate you then you always have a spot for your talents at Statesman.”

“Ohh, does that mean you would be my boss?” you ask seductively as you stand behind Jack, wrapping your arms around him.

You can hear Jack’s smirk without having to see it. “Wouldn’t mind it a bit, I must say. Though it might be a touch indecent.”

Jack hands you a plate of steak and eggs and follows you to the table with his own plate in hand. You both eat in happy silence, shoulder to shoulder.

Your cowboy in his chair, you in yours.

Just the way it should be.

~~