After Dinner [fic with meet_thunder]
Writer Note: Follows this.
#1 of 5
Note: contains adult content.
Again he reached out and touched her cheek, just barely. "Okay." He coould see the change in her eyes, the focus on herself. It's something he'd been waiting for forever and a slow, goofy, lopsided grin spread across his face. They have so much to deal with, not the least of which is Jenny’s reaction and the custody of the boys, but for a moment he let them be happy. And in that moment, he realized that no matter what else was thrown at them, the point was that they were happy. They always had been together. That feeling of happiness and contentment was what kept bringing them back even when doing so was not in their seeming best interest. "What help do you need?"
A soft smile touched her lips and she shook her head. He was as excited as the boys at Christmas and she couldn’t exactly blame him. The feeling was mutual and a part of her wanted to run to every table in the restaurant and tell everyone that she’d finally let herself be happy. Being with him was something she’d wanted forever, but realistically, the changes she faced were going to be harder to manage. Even saying the words "I’m leaving" out loud, accepting them, knowing that she was making the right choice, she was still nervous. Choosing herself over other people went against everything she’d spent her life doing. "You to be you." She said finally. "And your truck when we’re ready to get the bulk of the stuff out. I want to time it properly."
"Okay." He took a bite of his dinner and a sip of his wine, forcing the blood to stop rushing through his ears. Honestly, he had not been expecting this. He’d been expecting a long talk about him putting her on the spot, a reminder that they were good for each other but maybe they needed to slow it down. Even when she’d kissed him and he knew just in her touch that things had changed, he hadn’t been expecting this.
She chuckled knowingly and he rolled his eyes in response. Across the table, their hands linked again and they ate in comfortable silence, managing their meals and drinks with only one hand. Letting go of each other wasn’t allowed. Not right now. The waitress smiled every time she came by, but made a point to leave them be as much was allowed by server etiquette. They barely noticed her anyway - which made for a bigger check because she was able to refill wine glasses without much argument.
Half finished, she pushed her plate away and took his one hand in both of hers. "This isn’t going to be easy. I have no idea how Charles is going to react. I’m hoping he’ll just be how he usually is. But..."
"I know." He looked at her hands, her long fingers, the wedding ring that would soon be gone. Finally, fifteen years later, they were getting what they wanted. "I just want to help you get out of there. We’ll worry about the rest later."
"Daniel is who I’m most worried about."
"Me too." He brought her hands to his lips. "But I’m not going anywhere for a while. We can work out whatever we need to work out, including custody."
"This is scary, Leroy. It’s right, but it’s scary."
"I know." And then he realized how little he’d actually eaten and how his stomach was rolling. It was scary. This was real now. This moment, the moment that should have happened time and time again over the last fifteen years was finally real. Heather was finally making the choice for herself to get out. "And no matter what happens, we’ll get through it together."
"I know." She blinked a few tears away, but one escaped her and he reached up to wipe it away. "Can we get out of here?" She asked, taking a deep breath. "Just go be us?"
He nodded. "I noticed a motel up the road."
"No." She shook her head. "Home. Let’s go home. I’m done with hiding in motels."
He choked back his own tears before leaning over to kiss her. Home. Their home. The waitress had already brought the check.
Hand in hand they walked to her car. This time when he kissed her he did push her up against the car, not caring who saw them. She responded, her arms around his neck, pushing back against him, and it took all he had to not get them arrested. "It’s a long drive back," he whispered when they broke for air.
"The wait is always worth it." She put her hand on his chest. "Blackbird Way in Oceanside?"
"Yes." He pulled his key out of his pocket. The spare was in his glove compartment. "Here you go. It’s yours."
Again, tears swam in her eyes. "I’ll be right behind you."
Again, he kissed her, getting lost in the taste of wine and the smell of her - vanilla and rose and just a hint of spice that he always associated with her. They lost themselves in each other until behind them a group of kids starting cheering and hooting. Heather laughed and pulled away. "I’ll see you there."
He touched her cheek and darted across the street to his truck, looking back to make sure she pulled into traffic safely. It was going to be a long drive back.
***
They pulled in almost at the same time; he was just a couple minutes ahead of her, and he waited at the door while she climbed out of her car and all but ran to him. They were a jumble of lips and arms and legs as they stumbled through the door and he pushed her up against it, hiking her dress up around her hips. They had time for slow and tender later. Right now he needed to claim her as his and she was more than willing; she had to claim him as much as he did her.
The scrap of lace she called underwear tore away easily and some part of his brain that existed under the caveman he’d turned in to knew he’d have loved to look at her in them, but he didn’t care. His fingers were stroking between her legs (she was already so wet) and her hands were pulling at his pants, unzipping him, pulling him to her. She guided him into her body as he lifted her up to meet him and they slammed into the door together with his mouth on her neck and her nails digging into him. It was fast. Hard. Bruising.
Cleansing.
She screamed when she came. He bit down on her neck so hard he was worried he might have drawn blood. They were raw. Aching.
Crying.
"God, Heather," he whispered, kissing the place where he’d bitten. "God."
She pushed her hips against him, still trembling, and he found her left hand and pulled it in front of them. He took the rings down her finger and pulled them off and she burst into fresh tears, nodding her approval. It was time. He tossed them behind him, hearing a soft thud as they landed on the carpet and then again leaned in to kiss her. This time is was soft. Gentle. Promising.
Consuming.
Ignoring his knees and his back, he carried her up the stairs, never breaking the kiss until they landed together in a tangle on his bed - their bed - and she rolled them, settling on top, her skirt still hiked and his pants still loose. She bent to kiss him. As their lips danced, his hands wandered, searching for the zipper on her dress. The fabric fell around them and the kiss broke only so she could raise her arms and he pulled it from her, leaving her only in a bra that he assumed matched what was left of the panties he’d ruined downstairs. Her eyes never left his as she reached behind her to unsnap the garment and when her breasts fell free of the lace, he felt a surge as his body recovered completely from their first round.
"You’re overdressed, Leroy." Heather pushed his shirt up, her nails dragging along the planes of his stomach and he sat up, letting her pull his shirts from him. He fell back as her mouth latched onto one of his nipples and her teeth worked him even as her hands tugged at his pants. To get them off he’d have to move and her mouth was heaven on his body. But she sat up and slid off his lap and down to her knees, pulling the pants with her. He sat up a bit on his elbows, watching her between his legs, and groaned, understanding her intent.
Angels shouldn’t have mouths as talented as hers.
He watched her mouth come down over him in a perfect red O, sucking him like a popsicle. His hand fisted in her hair, not only directing the movement but a reminder to his libido to not completely smother her. Her hands kept his hips steady as she blew him, slowly, torturing him with her tongue and her teeth. Only her hands steadying him kept him from completely suffocating her as his hips arched up when she deep throated him before pulling all the way back and off with a pop. She licked her lips, a cat enjoying its cream, and he tugged on her hair. "Get up here," he whispered, pulling her close and flipping them so she was pinned beneath him. Heather smirked and arched up, giving him access to anything he wanted so he chose the spot on her neck, the bite mark she’d have for a while. She whimpered as he sucked, lathing it with his tongue, before moving down her body to feast on raspberry nipples. His hand moved lower, between her thighs, teasing her without ever touching. She spread her legs, inviting him, but he taunted her, light fingertips over sensitive flesh.
"Please, Leroy..." she whimpered and arched and he obliged, sliding one long finger into her body, stroking that place he knew made her eyes roll back in her head. Her nails dug into his shoulder, deeper and deeper with each stroke. Still focused on her breasts, he brought her to the edge before pulling back.
It wasn’t a race and he had plans for her. Looking up into her eyes, it was clear they were completely on the same page. She licked her lips and drew him back up to her, wrapping one leg around his hip and hooking him close.
"I love you," she whispered. "I have since the beginning and I’m not wasting one more minute. We’ve wasted too much."
Slowly, he kissed her. "I love you too and I’m never letting go again. No matter what, I’ve got you." She laughed softly, gently, before capturing his lips again in a slow kiss that lasted forever.
***
Surfacing to consciousness, for the briefest of moments his mind taunted him with the horror that it was all a dream. But he could still smell her perfume and taste her on his lips. His lethargic movements were sex, not loneliness induced. Rolling over, reaching for her, he found her side of the bed cold and empty, and worried that she left in the night. But, sitting up, his nerves were eased when he saw light coming from downstairs.
Slowly, he trundled out of bed, reaching for the boxer shorts she all but ripped off of him, and promptly tripped over her shoes. He laughed a bit; the tangle of arms and legs and lips they’d when they stumbled through the door would have been comical to anyone watching.
His white t-shirt from yesterday was gone from his pile of clothes; he smiled a bit at the thought of her in it - and he grabbed another, and followed the light. Slowly he made his way down the stairs, blinking the sleep from his eyes, looking for her. "Heather?"
Instinct took him into the kitchen area, where she leaned against the counter, dressed in a pair of his boxers and the white t-shirt he’d discarded earlier. She has their old photographs spread out on the counter, and suddenly he remembered a conversation that started in a much similar way years ago, when Charles had been out of the country and they'd been together almost every night. He'd found her in her home office, going through photographs, and they'd sat up talking about light and lens flares. It was that night he’d broken the news that he was being transferred to the San Diego offices and then being sent to Europe for a deep cover op.
His transferring had set in motion a series of events that had kept them apart for longer than they'd ever planned. He'd met Jenny, she'd had Daniel, and it had taken a long time for them to find themselves again. It was strangely fitting to see her like she was, looking through photographs in a house in San Diego, at the start of a whole new journey for them but at the end of a completed circle.
He didn't believe in coincidences, but he did believe in fate. This, he knew, was some kind of sign.
"Babe?"
She looked up as he approached and smiled, holding out a photo. "I’m so glad you have these. I could never risk keeping them. But here is our history, played out in front of me. Not like it doesn’t run through my mind on a daily basis."
He settled on a stool and guided her to stand between his legs, resting his chin on her shoulder. She was holding one she’d taken of him in his backyard back in DC. "That was your new camera and you were playing with it." He chuckled. "You were like a kid at Christmas."
"You bought me that camera for Christmas."
"Did I?" He squinted at the picture, remembering the day, not the gift. It was foggy, like so much of his brain, and he felt her slight intake of breath and when she leaned against him, he could sense her concern.
"Yeah," she whispered softly. "I still use it sometimes too."
"It’ll come back. I get things in flashes sometimes."
"I know." She held up another picture but then glanced at him over her shoulder. "What did you do that pissed Jenny off so much? She’d never have transferred you here to California if she wasn’t just done with the whole thing."
With a sigh he kissed her shoulder. "She came over. I’d taken CJ, Rita’s son, up to Wake Forest to see the campus. It was after that disastrous trip out here and I’d barely slept because of a case. I was asleep and she woke me up. Honestly, I don’t know why she came over. I don’t think she did either." Heather turned and leaned against the counter, watching him while he talked. "I’d been cleaning up, just to keep my hands busy, and found some old things of hers and told her if she wanted them she could have them."
"And what, she found an old bra of mine?"
"Worse." He stroked her hair and then pointed to the picture on the fridge. Heather stood against the frame of a boat, covered in saw dust, laughing at him while he threatened to break a camera. "Somehow that shot was in my junk drawer in my dresser and she found it. It ruined everything we were rebuilding."
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "I’m breaking my sister by being here with you."
"I know."
"She loves you, Leroy."
"She loves the idea of me, Heather."
"I know." She rubbed her eyes. "No. Honestly, I don’t know what she loves. I know what she regrets, but I’m not really sure what she loves."
"Fair enough." He took her fingers and kissed the tips. She tasted of their activities from earlier. "This could get ugly."
"I almost told you no today. God, I almost talked myself out of it with the same cycle of excuses we always use. I can walk away from Charles. My mother has suspected for years. But Jenny is my best friend and my sister and you will always be there. But if I give her what she wants, she’ll never talk to me again. She won." Her hands went out and rested on his hips. "Anyway, you aren’t a competition. You’re a man and I love you. I’m not letting her die without at least trying to clear the air. Somewhere under all her anger and her hurt, I know she understands. It’s why you’re here and not on a sub somewhere under one hundred feet of arctic ice." She took a deep breath. "This is as much as me as you and her. We all made mistakes."
"What would you have done?" He touched her cheek, "If she and I had stayed together, what would you have done?"
Tears touched her eyes. "Died inside?" She bit her lip and looked away. "God, I don’t know, Leroy. I wouldn’t have said a word about us, you know that. I’d have let Jenny have her happiness. But every time I’d have seen you two together ... I’m just glad I never had to. I really am." She took a deep breath. "And that’s part of what I know is so hard for Jen right now. She has to know that we are together or will get back together and I know she’s got a damned vivid imagination. Right now, she’s sitting at home, torturing herself while I stand here looking over fifteen years of history with you." Gentle hands touched his cheeks. "I’m not going anywhere. But I have to acknowledge the hurt I’m doing to her."
He returned the gesture. "And someday, maybe, she’ll acknowledge how much she hurt you as well. It’s a two way street."
"Not always with Jen, you know that."
He did know and he slipped his hands down to her waist and held her close against him. "What a hole we dug, huh."
"Yes." She kissed his cheek and then turned back to the pictures and held up one of them in Hawaii. "I love this. I loved that trip. I was sore for weeks after that trip." They both laughed and she leaned her head back. "This is going on the mantle. I have a frame that fits it perfectly and it’s going on the mantle." She held up another one. It was one she’d taken of him sitting in a canoe, "This one is going on my bedside table." She paused. "What about the boys? I know you don’t have furniture yet."
"I wasn’t tempting fate. But let me show you something." He moved her just a bit and took her hand as he slid off the stool. They walked to the door that led into the garage and he flipped on the lights, showing his work station and the wood that was slowly becoming the frame of a bed.
"Leroy..." her throat caught.
"I figured if my hopes went to hell, I’d donate it. It’s a loft bed, one that can grow with James and one that’s sturdy enough for him to climb on. I want to do one for Daniel too, but you’ll forgive me if I wanted to make something for my son."
She was brushing furtive tears from her cheeks and shaking her head. "God, Leroy. I don’t know what to do with you. He’s going to love it."
"I also was hoping he’d help."
"He’s going to be all over it." She turned to him and slipped arms around his waist. "We’ll get Daniel a bed."
"I’ll work on this as much as I can so he doesn’t have to share for too long."
Heather chuckled and leaned up to kiss him again. "Speaking of sharing a bed..."
"Well, I was wondering what had you wandering when you had me to cuddle with."
She chuckled. "I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d be all at peace but I’m worried. No. Anxious. I have everything I wanted right here in front of me and I’m scared I’m going to screw it up."
"You couldn’t do that even if you tried, Heaths."
"You’re wonderful." She sighed and leaned up to kiss him tenderly. He returned it just as gently, pressing her to him. When they broke apart she stroked his face. "When I get back to Lompoc I’ll start packing things and bring them down when I can. Maybe over the next weekend we can get the bulk of the stuff."
"Okay. Anything you need."
"You’re too damned accommodating sometimes."
"Heather, I want to go get everything now. But you’re walking away from fifteen years. I can be a little patient. Not much, but a little."
She chuckled. "Take me back to bed. Just in case I have to wait a week before I taste you again."
"What’s going to happen when you’ve got me every night, hmm?"
"Well, we’ll find out if you need Viagra, won’t we?" She poked him playfully and he grabbed at her waist, but she danced away. "Come on, old man." He laughed and reached for her but she was already at the stairs. He caught up to her in the doorway of the bedroom and they fell together onto the sheets, lost to the lust of early morning.
Continued here.
#1 of 5
Note: contains adult content.
Again he reached out and touched her cheek, just barely. "Okay." He coould see the change in her eyes, the focus on herself. It's something he'd been waiting for forever and a slow, goofy, lopsided grin spread across his face. They have so much to deal with, not the least of which is Jenny’s reaction and the custody of the boys, but for a moment he let them be happy. And in that moment, he realized that no matter what else was thrown at them, the point was that they were happy. They always had been together. That feeling of happiness and contentment was what kept bringing them back even when doing so was not in their seeming best interest. "What help do you need?"
A soft smile touched her lips and she shook her head. He was as excited as the boys at Christmas and she couldn’t exactly blame him. The feeling was mutual and a part of her wanted to run to every table in the restaurant and tell everyone that she’d finally let herself be happy. Being with him was something she’d wanted forever, but realistically, the changes she faced were going to be harder to manage. Even saying the words "I’m leaving" out loud, accepting them, knowing that she was making the right choice, she was still nervous. Choosing herself over other people went against everything she’d spent her life doing. "You to be you." She said finally. "And your truck when we’re ready to get the bulk of the stuff out. I want to time it properly."
"Okay." He took a bite of his dinner and a sip of his wine, forcing the blood to stop rushing through his ears. Honestly, he had not been expecting this. He’d been expecting a long talk about him putting her on the spot, a reminder that they were good for each other but maybe they needed to slow it down. Even when she’d kissed him and he knew just in her touch that things had changed, he hadn’t been expecting this.
She chuckled knowingly and he rolled his eyes in response. Across the table, their hands linked again and they ate in comfortable silence, managing their meals and drinks with only one hand. Letting go of each other wasn’t allowed. Not right now. The waitress smiled every time she came by, but made a point to leave them be as much was allowed by server etiquette. They barely noticed her anyway - which made for a bigger check because she was able to refill wine glasses without much argument.
Half finished, she pushed her plate away and took his one hand in both of hers. "This isn’t going to be easy. I have no idea how Charles is going to react. I’m hoping he’ll just be how he usually is. But..."
"I know." He looked at her hands, her long fingers, the wedding ring that would soon be gone. Finally, fifteen years later, they were getting what they wanted. "I just want to help you get out of there. We’ll worry about the rest later."
"Daniel is who I’m most worried about."
"Me too." He brought her hands to his lips. "But I’m not going anywhere for a while. We can work out whatever we need to work out, including custody."
"This is scary, Leroy. It’s right, but it’s scary."
"I know." And then he realized how little he’d actually eaten and how his stomach was rolling. It was scary. This was real now. This moment, the moment that should have happened time and time again over the last fifteen years was finally real. Heather was finally making the choice for herself to get out. "And no matter what happens, we’ll get through it together."
"I know." She blinked a few tears away, but one escaped her and he reached up to wipe it away. "Can we get out of here?" She asked, taking a deep breath. "Just go be us?"
He nodded. "I noticed a motel up the road."
"No." She shook her head. "Home. Let’s go home. I’m done with hiding in motels."
He choked back his own tears before leaning over to kiss her. Home. Their home. The waitress had already brought the check.
Hand in hand they walked to her car. This time when he kissed her he did push her up against the car, not caring who saw them. She responded, her arms around his neck, pushing back against him, and it took all he had to not get them arrested. "It’s a long drive back," he whispered when they broke for air.
"The wait is always worth it." She put her hand on his chest. "Blackbird Way in Oceanside?"
"Yes." He pulled his key out of his pocket. The spare was in his glove compartment. "Here you go. It’s yours."
Again, tears swam in her eyes. "I’ll be right behind you."
Again, he kissed her, getting lost in the taste of wine and the smell of her - vanilla and rose and just a hint of spice that he always associated with her. They lost themselves in each other until behind them a group of kids starting cheering and hooting. Heather laughed and pulled away. "I’ll see you there."
He touched her cheek and darted across the street to his truck, looking back to make sure she pulled into traffic safely. It was going to be a long drive back.
***
They pulled in almost at the same time; he was just a couple minutes ahead of her, and he waited at the door while she climbed out of her car and all but ran to him. They were a jumble of lips and arms and legs as they stumbled through the door and he pushed her up against it, hiking her dress up around her hips. They had time for slow and tender later. Right now he needed to claim her as his and she was more than willing; she had to claim him as much as he did her.
The scrap of lace she called underwear tore away easily and some part of his brain that existed under the caveman he’d turned in to knew he’d have loved to look at her in them, but he didn’t care. His fingers were stroking between her legs (she was already so wet) and her hands were pulling at his pants, unzipping him, pulling him to her. She guided him into her body as he lifted her up to meet him and they slammed into the door together with his mouth on her neck and her nails digging into him. It was fast. Hard. Bruising.
Cleansing.
She screamed when she came. He bit down on her neck so hard he was worried he might have drawn blood. They were raw. Aching.
Crying.
"God, Heather," he whispered, kissing the place where he’d bitten. "God."
She pushed her hips against him, still trembling, and he found her left hand and pulled it in front of them. He took the rings down her finger and pulled them off and she burst into fresh tears, nodding her approval. It was time. He tossed them behind him, hearing a soft thud as they landed on the carpet and then again leaned in to kiss her. This time is was soft. Gentle. Promising.
Consuming.
Ignoring his knees and his back, he carried her up the stairs, never breaking the kiss until they landed together in a tangle on his bed - their bed - and she rolled them, settling on top, her skirt still hiked and his pants still loose. She bent to kiss him. As their lips danced, his hands wandered, searching for the zipper on her dress. The fabric fell around them and the kiss broke only so she could raise her arms and he pulled it from her, leaving her only in a bra that he assumed matched what was left of the panties he’d ruined downstairs. Her eyes never left his as she reached behind her to unsnap the garment and when her breasts fell free of the lace, he felt a surge as his body recovered completely from their first round.
"You’re overdressed, Leroy." Heather pushed his shirt up, her nails dragging along the planes of his stomach and he sat up, letting her pull his shirts from him. He fell back as her mouth latched onto one of his nipples and her teeth worked him even as her hands tugged at his pants. To get them off he’d have to move and her mouth was heaven on his body. But she sat up and slid off his lap and down to her knees, pulling the pants with her. He sat up a bit on his elbows, watching her between his legs, and groaned, understanding her intent.
Angels shouldn’t have mouths as talented as hers.
He watched her mouth come down over him in a perfect red O, sucking him like a popsicle. His hand fisted in her hair, not only directing the movement but a reminder to his libido to not completely smother her. Her hands kept his hips steady as she blew him, slowly, torturing him with her tongue and her teeth. Only her hands steadying him kept him from completely suffocating her as his hips arched up when she deep throated him before pulling all the way back and off with a pop. She licked her lips, a cat enjoying its cream, and he tugged on her hair. "Get up here," he whispered, pulling her close and flipping them so she was pinned beneath him. Heather smirked and arched up, giving him access to anything he wanted so he chose the spot on her neck, the bite mark she’d have for a while. She whimpered as he sucked, lathing it with his tongue, before moving down her body to feast on raspberry nipples. His hand moved lower, between her thighs, teasing her without ever touching. She spread her legs, inviting him, but he taunted her, light fingertips over sensitive flesh.
"Please, Leroy..." she whimpered and arched and he obliged, sliding one long finger into her body, stroking that place he knew made her eyes roll back in her head. Her nails dug into his shoulder, deeper and deeper with each stroke. Still focused on her breasts, he brought her to the edge before pulling back.
It wasn’t a race and he had plans for her. Looking up into her eyes, it was clear they were completely on the same page. She licked her lips and drew him back up to her, wrapping one leg around his hip and hooking him close.
"I love you," she whispered. "I have since the beginning and I’m not wasting one more minute. We’ve wasted too much."
Slowly, he kissed her. "I love you too and I’m never letting go again. No matter what, I’ve got you." She laughed softly, gently, before capturing his lips again in a slow kiss that lasted forever.
***
Surfacing to consciousness, for the briefest of moments his mind taunted him with the horror that it was all a dream. But he could still smell her perfume and taste her on his lips. His lethargic movements were sex, not loneliness induced. Rolling over, reaching for her, he found her side of the bed cold and empty, and worried that she left in the night. But, sitting up, his nerves were eased when he saw light coming from downstairs.
Slowly, he trundled out of bed, reaching for the boxer shorts she all but ripped off of him, and promptly tripped over her shoes. He laughed a bit; the tangle of arms and legs and lips they’d when they stumbled through the door would have been comical to anyone watching.
His white t-shirt from yesterday was gone from his pile of clothes; he smiled a bit at the thought of her in it - and he grabbed another, and followed the light. Slowly he made his way down the stairs, blinking the sleep from his eyes, looking for her. "Heather?"
Instinct took him into the kitchen area, where she leaned against the counter, dressed in a pair of his boxers and the white t-shirt he’d discarded earlier. She has their old photographs spread out on the counter, and suddenly he remembered a conversation that started in a much similar way years ago, when Charles had been out of the country and they'd been together almost every night. He'd found her in her home office, going through photographs, and they'd sat up talking about light and lens flares. It was that night he’d broken the news that he was being transferred to the San Diego offices and then being sent to Europe for a deep cover op.
His transferring had set in motion a series of events that had kept them apart for longer than they'd ever planned. He'd met Jenny, she'd had Daniel, and it had taken a long time for them to find themselves again. It was strangely fitting to see her like she was, looking through photographs in a house in San Diego, at the start of a whole new journey for them but at the end of a completed circle.
He didn't believe in coincidences, but he did believe in fate. This, he knew, was some kind of sign.
"Babe?"
She looked up as he approached and smiled, holding out a photo. "I’m so glad you have these. I could never risk keeping them. But here is our history, played out in front of me. Not like it doesn’t run through my mind on a daily basis."
He settled on a stool and guided her to stand between his legs, resting his chin on her shoulder. She was holding one she’d taken of him in his backyard back in DC. "That was your new camera and you were playing with it." He chuckled. "You were like a kid at Christmas."
"You bought me that camera for Christmas."
"Did I?" He squinted at the picture, remembering the day, not the gift. It was foggy, like so much of his brain, and he felt her slight intake of breath and when she leaned against him, he could sense her concern.
"Yeah," she whispered softly. "I still use it sometimes too."
"It’ll come back. I get things in flashes sometimes."
"I know." She held up another picture but then glanced at him over her shoulder. "What did you do that pissed Jenny off so much? She’d never have transferred you here to California if she wasn’t just done with the whole thing."
With a sigh he kissed her shoulder. "She came over. I’d taken CJ, Rita’s son, up to Wake Forest to see the campus. It was after that disastrous trip out here and I’d barely slept because of a case. I was asleep and she woke me up. Honestly, I don’t know why she came over. I don’t think she did either." Heather turned and leaned against the counter, watching him while he talked. "I’d been cleaning up, just to keep my hands busy, and found some old things of hers and told her if she wanted them she could have them."
"And what, she found an old bra of mine?"
"Worse." He stroked her hair and then pointed to the picture on the fridge. Heather stood against the frame of a boat, covered in saw dust, laughing at him while he threatened to break a camera. "Somehow that shot was in my junk drawer in my dresser and she found it. It ruined everything we were rebuilding."
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "I’m breaking my sister by being here with you."
"I know."
"She loves you, Leroy."
"She loves the idea of me, Heather."
"I know." She rubbed her eyes. "No. Honestly, I don’t know what she loves. I know what she regrets, but I’m not really sure what she loves."
"Fair enough." He took her fingers and kissed the tips. She tasted of their activities from earlier. "This could get ugly."
"I almost told you no today. God, I almost talked myself out of it with the same cycle of excuses we always use. I can walk away from Charles. My mother has suspected for years. But Jenny is my best friend and my sister and you will always be there. But if I give her what she wants, she’ll never talk to me again. She won." Her hands went out and rested on his hips. "Anyway, you aren’t a competition. You’re a man and I love you. I’m not letting her die without at least trying to clear the air. Somewhere under all her anger and her hurt, I know she understands. It’s why you’re here and not on a sub somewhere under one hundred feet of arctic ice." She took a deep breath. "This is as much as me as you and her. We all made mistakes."
"What would you have done?" He touched her cheek, "If she and I had stayed together, what would you have done?"
Tears touched her eyes. "Died inside?" She bit her lip and looked away. "God, I don’t know, Leroy. I wouldn’t have said a word about us, you know that. I’d have let Jenny have her happiness. But every time I’d have seen you two together ... I’m just glad I never had to. I really am." She took a deep breath. "And that’s part of what I know is so hard for Jen right now. She has to know that we are together or will get back together and I know she’s got a damned vivid imagination. Right now, she’s sitting at home, torturing herself while I stand here looking over fifteen years of history with you." Gentle hands touched his cheeks. "I’m not going anywhere. But I have to acknowledge the hurt I’m doing to her."
He returned the gesture. "And someday, maybe, she’ll acknowledge how much she hurt you as well. It’s a two way street."
"Not always with Jen, you know that."
He did know and he slipped his hands down to her waist and held her close against him. "What a hole we dug, huh."
"Yes." She kissed his cheek and then turned back to the pictures and held up one of them in Hawaii. "I love this. I loved that trip. I was sore for weeks after that trip." They both laughed and she leaned her head back. "This is going on the mantle. I have a frame that fits it perfectly and it’s going on the mantle." She held up another one. It was one she’d taken of him sitting in a canoe, "This one is going on my bedside table." She paused. "What about the boys? I know you don’t have furniture yet."
"I wasn’t tempting fate. But let me show you something." He moved her just a bit and took her hand as he slid off the stool. They walked to the door that led into the garage and he flipped on the lights, showing his work station and the wood that was slowly becoming the frame of a bed.
"Leroy..." her throat caught.
"I figured if my hopes went to hell, I’d donate it. It’s a loft bed, one that can grow with James and one that’s sturdy enough for him to climb on. I want to do one for Daniel too, but you’ll forgive me if I wanted to make something for my son."
She was brushing furtive tears from her cheeks and shaking her head. "God, Leroy. I don’t know what to do with you. He’s going to love it."
"I also was hoping he’d help."
"He’s going to be all over it." She turned to him and slipped arms around his waist. "We’ll get Daniel a bed."
"I’ll work on this as much as I can so he doesn’t have to share for too long."
Heather chuckled and leaned up to kiss him again. "Speaking of sharing a bed..."
"Well, I was wondering what had you wandering when you had me to cuddle with."
She chuckled. "I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d be all at peace but I’m worried. No. Anxious. I have everything I wanted right here in front of me and I’m scared I’m going to screw it up."
"You couldn’t do that even if you tried, Heaths."
"You’re wonderful." She sighed and leaned up to kiss him tenderly. He returned it just as gently, pressing her to him. When they broke apart she stroked his face. "When I get back to Lompoc I’ll start packing things and bring them down when I can. Maybe over the next weekend we can get the bulk of the stuff."
"Okay. Anything you need."
"You’re too damned accommodating sometimes."
"Heather, I want to go get everything now. But you’re walking away from fifteen years. I can be a little patient. Not much, but a little."
She chuckled. "Take me back to bed. Just in case I have to wait a week before I taste you again."
"What’s going to happen when you’ve got me every night, hmm?"
"Well, we’ll find out if you need Viagra, won’t we?" She poked him playfully and he grabbed at her waist, but she danced away. "Come on, old man." He laughed and reached for her but she was already at the stairs. He caught up to her in the doorway of the bedroom and they fell together onto the sheets, lost to the lust of early morning.
Continued here.