CHARACTER

Jack Stapleton

Quick Facts

  • Role: A-list movie star, client (“principal”), and male lead; primary love interest in a fake-dating-turned-real romance
  • First appearance: At his North Dakota hideout, opening the door to his new bodyguard while very much not camera-ready
  • Key relationships: Hannah Brooks, Drew Stapleton, Hank Stapleton, Connie Stapleton
  • Inciting situation: Returns to his family’s Texas ranch when his mother is diagnosed with cancer—and hides a stalker threat by insisting his bodyguard pose as his girlfriend

Who He Is

At first glance, Jack Stapleton is an immaculate celebrity fantasy—twice crowned “Sexiest Man Alive,” a man whose life looks like glossy magazine pages. But the novel keeps dismantling that image to reveal a funny, self-effacing son and brother whose life has stalled in the shadow of a tragedy. He’s the hinge-point where two core themes intersect: the dissonance between public persona and private self (Appearance vs. Reality) and the slow work of Grief, Family, and Healing. Forced home by his mother’s illness, Jack insists on secrecy to protect her, setting the fake-dating premise in motion and catalyzing both his and Hannah’s growth.

A physical snapshot—deliberately unglamorous—underscores the theme of Appearance vs. Reality:

Bare feet. Frayed Levi’s. A corded leather necklace encircling the base of his neck, just above his collarbones. And I don’t even have words for what was happening in the midsection.

The details that follow—shaggy hair, slightly bent glasses, a shaving nick, the chin dimple that pops when he’s angry—humanize him, narrowing the distance between “Jack Stapleton, Movie Star” and the man his family knows.

Personality & Traits

Jack blends effortless charm with a private, grief-struck gravity. He jokes easily, but his humor isn’t a shield so much as a bridge—an invitation that helps other people, especially Hannah, feel safe. Underneath, he carries a secret about Drew’s death that has shaped his every choice for two years, isolating him even as he longs for ordinary connection.

  • Playful, disarming warmth: He teases Hannah (nicknaming her “Stumps”) and delights in making her laugh—not as performance, but as genuine care that softens her guardedness.
  • Grief-haunted and guilt-burdened: Recurring nightmares and a visceral bridge phobia signal how deeply the accident has rewired him; his self-exile and silence show how guilt can masquerade as penance.
  • Loyal and fiercely protective: He fabricates the girlfriend ruse to shield his mother from worry; he quietly shields Hannah from professional humiliation and personal attacks (including her ex, Robby), and risks himself to save her from drowning and an armed intruder.
  • Down-to-earth despite fame: Comfortable in frayed jeans, messy rooms, and long days on the ranch, he prefers riverbanks and horses to red carpets—choosing presence over publicity.
  • Perceptive and emotionally attuned: He notices small, intimate cues (Hannah’s beaded safety-pin necklace, the tune she hums) and meets needs she doesn’t voice, seeing through her “tough” exterior to the frightened, hopeful person underneath.

Character Journey

Jack starts the novel frozen—physically isolated in North Dakota and emotionally stalled by a secret about Drew’s death. Returning home because of his mother’s diagnosis forces him back into the family current he’s been avoiding, but it’s the fake relationship with Hannah that melts his defenses. The pretense demands closeness: shared spaces, inside jokes, invented backstories. In that closeness, Jack finally confesses that it was Drew driving the night they crashed. The confession is the hinge of his arc, shifting him from punitive silence to relational repair. It opens the door to reconciliation with Hank, allows him to rejoin his family without the lie corroding every interaction, and turns memory from punishment into purpose. By the end, he channels love into action—founding a nature preserve in Drew’s name—and embraces a grounded, Texas-rooted life with Hannah that balances career with authenticity. His movement from hiding to honesty makes healing possible for everyone.

Key Relationships

  • Hannah Brooks: Their connection evolves from a cover story into true intimacy, mapping the risks and rewards of Love and Vulnerability. Jack values Hannah’s competence and candor, meeting her with playful trust that helps her risk being known; she, in turn, gives him the safety to tell the truth about Drew. Each teaches the other how to be loved for the unvarnished self.
  • Drew Stapleton: Drew’s death is the gravitational center of Jack’s interior life. Jack’s decision to take the blame to protect Drew’s memory shows his instinct to love sacrificially—yet the secrecy isolates him and blocks grief. Honoring Drew with a preserve reframes their bond from guilt to legacy.
  • Hank Stapleton: Years of resentment calcify between the brothers, with Hank blaming Jack for the accident. Jack’s confession breaks the stalemate; their confrontation becomes a shared grief ritual, transforming accusation into understanding and rebuilding fraternal trust.
  • Connie Stapleton: Jack’s mother anchors his choices. His return home and the fake-dating scheme both spring from his instinct to shield her from stress; her warmth models the kind of family love Jack ultimately reclaims—and hopes to build with Hannah.

Defining Moments

Jack’s turning points track his shift from performance to truth—and from reactive guilt to active love.

  • The jujitsu takedown: Early on, he asks Hannah to prove she can protect him—and she flips him easily. Why it matters: Jack immediately recalibrates, treating her as an equal partner, not a prop, setting the foundation for mutual respect.
  • The nightmare and confession: After reliving the crash, he tells Hannah that Drew was driving. Why it matters: Vulnerability becomes the bridge out of isolation; the truth unlocks reconciliation with his family.
  • Thanksgiving confrontation with Kennedy Monroe: When Hannah is publicly belittled, Jack answers, “I do. In a heartbeat,” choosing her over a supermodel. Why it matters: He risks reputation to defend her, revealing where his loyalty truly lies.
  • The first real kiss: Post-Thanksgiving, he drops the act and kisses Hannah for real—right before his father interrupts. Why it matters: The line between performance and reality collapses; from here on, he refuses to hide what he feels.
  • The hostage crisis: To save Hannah, Jack pretends he never cared, dismissing their relationship as a joke. Why it matters: It’s sacrificial love in action—he’s willing to be misunderstood, even despised, to protect her life.
  • Founding the nature preserve: He memorializes Drew with conservation work in his name. Why it matters: Purpose replaces penance; Jack transforms grief into ongoing good.

Essential Quotes

  • “People who want to be famous think it’s the same thing as being loved, but it’s not. Strangers can only ever love a version of you. People loving you for your best qualities is not the same as people loving you despite your worst.” This is Jack’s credo—and the book’s thesis on image. He names the hollowness of celebrity adoration and articulates the rare kind of love he wants: the kind that knows the worst and stays.

  • “I’m saying you’re better... You’re a real person. You know the dolls my mom rescues? The women in your file—those women from my past—they’re the ‘befores.’ And you… You’re the ‘after.’” Jack valorizes authenticity over spectacle, reframing his history of glossy relationships as a prelude to the real thing. The metaphor translates fame’s artificiality into something domestic and tender—Hannah is the life he wants, not the image.

  • “I’m not pretending. Not anymore.” A clean break with performance. In six words, Jack declares that honesty—about danger, desire, and grief—will guide him from now on, collapsing the fake-dating premise into real commitment.

  • “I feel like I’ve been lost all my life until now—and somehow with you I’m just … found.” This line reframes Hannah not as a savior but as a compass: she helps him orient toward truth, family, and home. It marks the culmination of his arc from isolation to belonging.

  • “I will really miss you. And I am not acting.” Spoken when acting would be safer, this confession risks immediate pain to affirm reality. It fuses the novel’s central binaries—performance vs. truth, fame vs. love—on Jack’s terms, and signals that he will no longer barter honesty for image.