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jennickelsWhen Sam got home from work that night, she wasn’t surprised to find him sitting in her living room. He had a habit of popping up when something was going on. She barely spared him a glance while pulling off her shoes and tossing her jacket in the closet.
“How long have you known?” she asked.
Jack made a face then rubbed the back of his neck.
She could guess the answer. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Need to know,” was all he said.
Irritation welled up inside her. “You could have given me some kind of warning.”
Jack went to her, his hands warm along Sam’s arms, but her body refused to relax. He swallowed hard. “I wanted to. I almost did several times, but what difference would it have made? You would have been thinking about it this whole time instead of just... enjoying things.”
Sam knew he was right, but she still couldn’t shake the anger. “Were you in on it?”
His arms fell to his side, his face blanching. “Sam,” he pleaded, following her into the kitchen. “They came to me asking for recommendations to replace Weir. I had to be honest. No favors, remember?”
Sam didn’t look at him. When Jack had first transferred to Washington, they’d agreed to make a go at this relationship thing. It hadn’t been easy, and things were still sometimes weird, but there was one thing they had both been adamant about: he would never play favorites.
“Were there any others?”
Jack nodded slowly. “There were three on my list, including Reynolds. The IOA had their own list. It wasn’t an easy choice, Sam, but you are the most qualified.”
They were silent for a while. Sam could feel Jack moving closer. Finally, his hands landed tentatively on her back—his touch gentle. She turned, laying her head on his shoulder and finally relaxed. She couldn’t blame him—he’d just been doing his job. His arms encircled her, holding her close. His smell—the shampoo he used, musky aftershave, summery laundry detergent—enveloped her in a comforting blanket of familiarity. She breathed in deeply. “I’m just-” she paused to swallow the growing lump in her throat. “I’m going to miss this.” She looked into his soulful eyes. “You,” she clarified.
Jack leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m going to miss you, too. It’s hard enough being halfway across the country. Now-” His voice caught in his throat. He was a lot more upset than he was letting on. Sam loved him even more for it.
“I know.” She watched the emotions play across his face. She closed her eyes, a warmth spreading through her body. “I’ve got two weeks until I leave,” she whispered. “Any ideas on how I should spend my time?”
She didn’t need to open her eyes to know he was smiling.
“I have a few ideas.” Then before she could say anything else, he captured her mouth with his. Sam backed into the counter, Jack towering over her. One arm curled around her waist, the other cupped the back of her head. And Sam remembered exactly why they were working through the hard times. A blaze of longing—a heat so strong she thought she might spontaneously combust at any moment ripped through her sending shivers down her spine, lighting a fire in her chest, causing all rational thought to evaporate.
As they continued to kiss, hands roaming over bodies, Sam wondered if leaving wasn’t so bad if every day before was like this. Then she thought about how great it would be to come home for a visit and kissed him even harder. They never made it to the bedroom. Sam smiled. The kitchen floor needed a good wipe down anyway.
