At that moment, he looked old enough to be Belle’s grandfather.
“Bellerina,” he whispered to the floor and Jack thought even his voice sounded old when he looked at Jack and said bizarrely, “I really need to get me one of them cell phones. Rachel’s probably been frantic tryin’ to get a hold of me.”
Knowing, from what Belle told him, that Jensen Abbot was an American nomad, no home, travelling from city to city taking on whatever “gig” (Belle’s word) he could find, as a musician (he played piano) or a dealer (he dealt blackjack) or anything else that came up, Jack reckoned that Jensen was not wrong. It was likely Rachel had been frantically trying to reach him.
“You’re here now,” Jack replied and Jensen nodded.
Then Jensen went still and said, “Handle her with care?”
Jack felt his jaw grow hard but he tried to keep his voice soft when he replied, “I meant no disrespect. What I meant –”
Jensen visibly relaxed and his grin spread right before he cut in and assured, “I know what you meant, man, and I know it wasn’t disrespect.” He clapped Jack on the shoulder stoutly and his grin widened into a smile. “Glad to see my girl’s got herself a good man. ‘Handle her with care’,” he muttered. “I like that, I should write a song about that.” Then he looked around Jack toward the door and shouted, “Girl, where’s my coffee!”
Jack had no chance to say another word as Jensen rounded him and marched to the door.
However he had a feeling his Sunday with Belle was no longer just his.
And he was right.
* * * * *
“Jenny!” Rachel shouted as she flew through the enormous entrance hall of The Point and threw herself in Jensen’s arms.
Belle and Jack followed Jensen inside, Gretl and Baron trotting in with them heading straight toward the kitchen and food.
Jack watched as his mother, Lila, Yasmin and a big, strange, white-haired man wearing a kilt and a dark-haired woman wearing an effusive number of scarves and silver jewellery wandered in behind Rachel.
Then his eyes swung to Jensen and Rachel and he saw, to his shock, they were shamelessly necking in the entrance hall.
Shamelessly and passionately.
And, after this went on for a while, Jack realised they were necking shamelessly, passionately and, apparently, tirelessly.
For the first time in three and a half weeks, Jack found himself chuckling.
When he did, Belle’s head twisted sharply to face him, her eyes narrowed and his chuckle became laughter.
Then she looked back to her mother and cried, “Mom!”
Rachel, slowly (very slowly), realised she had an audience and she broke from her lip lock with Jensen but she didn’t move away.
Cuddling Jensen, her fingers playing with the collar of his jacket, her head resting on his shoulder, she looked at her daughter, a smile on her face and muttered, “Sorry honeypot.”
“I’m not sorry,” Jensen grinned unrepentant at his daughter, his arm around Rachel. “It’s been too long, little girl.”
Belle made a frustrated noise and Jack’s arm, already around her shoulders, curled and he pulled her into his side.
“Oops!” Rachel all of a sudden uttered and looked up at Jensen. “Jenny, we’re not allowed to embarrass Bellerina.”
Jensen looked down at Rachel but his eyebrows went up, “Says who?”
“Says Jack,” Rachel replied. “He’s kind of protective of Belle and he’s forbidden it.”
“Yeah,” Jensen was still grinning. “I got that impression right off.”
“Really?” Rachel asked curiously, twisting so her front was plastered against Jensen’s and her arms went around his waist. “What happened?”
“I’m sure we’d all like to know but perhaps you two can cotton onto the fact that there are other beings in the universe so that everyone can meet Jensen,” Lila broke in and Jack chuckled again.