I love you, Jack Bennett.
Curled into Belle, Jack fell asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Beyond Belief
Jack
“So, when will you be home?” Belle’s honeyed voice asked in his ear.
It was afternoon the next day and Jack was sitting behind his desk in his London office. As he listened to Belle, his eyes went to the door which had opened.
Olive stuck her head through.
Her lips moved, no sound came out but he saw them mouth, “Dempsey.”
He lifted one finger to her. She nodded, ducked out and closed the door.
Jack went back to Belle.
“I have one more meeting and then I’ll be on my way home.”
“So, you’ll be home for dinner,” she murmured, sounding slightly uneasy and Jack’s back went straight.
But his voice was gentle when he asked, “Is there a reason you sound concerned about my being home for dinner?”
“Just that, um, Dad has decided to commandeer the kitchen.”
Jack closed his eyes.
“And,” Belle went on, “he’s done this because he’s decided to introduce you all to American food.”
Jack opened his eyes.
“He does know that I, and Mum, and Yasmin, have all been to America?” Jack asked.
“Um… I did inform him of that,” Belle answered.
“Repeatedly,” Jack added.
“Uh… yes. Actually, Joy shared that. He’s still determined,” she replied.
“And this dinner would entail?” he prompted.
Her voice was tight but not with anxiety, with suppressed laughter when she replied, “I don’t know. It could mean his Texas chilli which is so hot it’s inedible. Or it could mean his barbeque ribs which are so messy we’ll all have to wear bibs. Or it could mean his famous flame-grilled hamburgers which would require, um…” she paused then stressed her final three words mock-ominously, “an open flame.”
The thought of Jensen Abbot anywhere near an open flame did not fill him with delight.
“Poppet,” Jack said quietly, “The Point has withstood centuries of bad weather, wars, different political regimes, religious unrest and a triple murder. I like our home. You like our home. Please, for me, encourage your father to cook something that would not threaten its destruction.”
He was pleased to hear her laughter wasn’t suppressed when her sweet voice vibrated through her response. “I’ll see what I can do, honey.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Jack muttered.
The humour was sadly gone and her voice was soft and strangely wistful when she said, “I know you’re busy, Jack, but I need to share something with you.”
His voice was also soft when he returned, “I am busy, love, but never too busy for you to share something with me.”