The Future Widows' Club

by Rhonda Russell

  She pulled around back, closest to the barn, then snagged the picnic basket she’d packed from the back seat. Evidently hearing her drive up, Jake stood in the wide doorway of the barn.

  “Hey,” he called.

  Jolie smiled, gestured toward the basket as she made her way toward him. “I thought we might get hungry.”

  Wearing a pair of faded jeans, beat-up boots and a navy blue t-shirt with a hole in the sleeve, he walked out and took the basket from her. “Thanks. Since it’s her first, we could be in for a long night.”

  That’s what she’d figured. Jolie fell into step beside him, felt the brush of his sleeve against her arm. A tingle hit her breasts, causing the air to thin in her lungs. “Er...how’s she doing?”

  Jake set the basket on a tack table, walked over to Marzipan’s stall and put a boot up on the bottom rail of her door. “She can’t get comfortable. Keeps circling, twitching her tail.”

  Jolie moved in beside him, put a hand over the top of the door and, throat tight with emotion, called the horse. Her ears pricked at the sound of Jolie’s voice, then she walked over and nudged her muzzle beneath Jolie’s palm.

  Smiling, she rubbed the horse’s velvety nose. “Look at you, Mama,” Jolie told her softly. “Big, beautiful girl,” she soothed. The horse sidled closer for more attention, nipped at Jolie’s hair.

  A deep masculine chuckle sounded beside her. “Looks like she’s missed you.”

  Jolie stroked her neck, darted a glance at Jake. “It’s a feeling that’s reciprocated.” She paused, scoped out some of the other stalls. “So who’s the proud papa?”

  “Smoke.”

  Jolie turned her attention back the horse. “Ah,” she sighed. “Then we can expect a beautiful baby then, eh?”

  Seemingly unable to stand still any longer, Marzipan resumed her pacing, absently nibbled at the feed in her bin.

  Jake picked up the picnic basket and pilfered through what she’d brought.

  “If you’re expecting prime rib, then you’re out of luck,” she said, poking her tongue in her cheek. “I brought what I had on hand--peanut butter and banana sandwiches, chips and beer.”

  Jake looked up and a slow grin slid across those incredibly sexy lips. “Ah,” he sighed. “A feast fit for a king.”

  Jolie rolled her eyes, helped him spread a horse blanket down on the ground in front of Marzipan’s stall. “Does that make you the king, then?”

  He laughed. “That goes without saying.”

  “I suppose so,” she agreed. “You’ve always been a royal pain the ass.”

  He opened a beer and handed it to her, then tutted under his breath. “Ah, now. That’s a fine way to talk to the man who saved yours.”

  Jolie bit into her sandwich and shot him a look. “What are you talking about?”

  “I talked with Dean today.”

  “Oh?” she asked, intrigued by an indiscernible odd note in his voice.

  “Yeah. He told me he thought that Marshall’s case should go inactive until new leads or evidence surfaces.”

  Jolie frowned. “Inactive? What does that mean?”

  “It means the case isn’t closed, but we’re no longer actively pursuing it.” He smiled at her, but something about that half-hearted grin seemed...off. “In laymen’s terms, it means you’re in the clear.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

  “Oh,” Jolie said, her eyes widening as the import sunk in. Now it was over. She let go a small sigh, felt her spine sag with relief. Her gaze slid to Jake’s impassive profile and the reason he’d seemed odd about the new status of the case surfaced belatedly in her sluggish mind.

  If she was in the clear...then there was no reason for him to “stick to her like glue” anymore.

  A sickening sensation swelled in her gut, pushing the bite of sandwich she’d just taken back up her throat.

  No reason for him to come to her house every night.

  No reason for him to be with her.

  Jolie knew that she should say something, should pretend that she was happy that she was no longer the prime suspect in a murder investigation, but she couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm for the required response. The silence swelled between them, a grim reminder of the wedge that had been in place just a little over a week ago. She swallowed a whimper, tried to steady her suddenly shaking hands.

  God, she didn’t want to go back to that. She wanted to go back to him, for them to find their way back to each other.

  Jake took a long draw from his beer, then that silvery gaze drifted to her, causing her breath to hitch. “There’s something that I want to say to you that’s long overdue.”

  Jolie knew what he wanted to say, knew that it had to be said for them to move forward and God, how she’d waited for it. She felt tears burn the backs of her lids, nodded at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply. He didn’t elaborate because he didn’t have to. They both knew what had happened, both knew that he’d been primarily at fault. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” he told her, his voice riddled with self-disgust, “and if it makes you feel any better, I’ve regretted asking for that time more than you can ever know.” A bitter laugh echoed out of his mouth and his eyes widened, punctuating the truth of that statement. “So much more than you can ever know.”

  Every cell in her body warmed with delight and once again she was hit with the urge to simply rest her head on his shoulder, to feel those beautiful hands against her face. Jolie took a pull from her own beer. “Oh, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea. I’ve certainly regretted some choices I made, one in particular.” She shot him a tentative look, asked him the one thing that she’d always wondered. “Why’d you ask for it, Jake?” She moistened her lips. “Were you that unsure of me?”

  She felt his soft gaze trace her face. “Oh, babe, I was never unsure of you. I was unsure of myself.” He picked up a piece of hay and twirled it around his fingers. “After your dad died, I guess it all just sort of hit me, you know, how important I was in your life...and I wasn’t sure I could live up the expectation. Afraid I’d fail you.” He shrugged helplessly. “I got scared, wanted to get my head on straight.” He looked away and swore softly. “Stupid.”

  “You were stupid for thinking that you’d ever fail me.”

  “But I did,” Jake said.

  “Only because you walked away. If you’d stuck it out, I would have been happy no matter what.” Jolie swallowed, made a face. “Besides, you weren’t the only one to blame. I should have had enough faith in you to wait it out. Instead, I got pissed off, then decided to get even.” She smiled grimly. “And look what happened.”

  Jake seemed to mull it over, took another drink. “And I regret that, too.”

  “We were both stupid,” she said magnanimously.

  He inclined his head.

  She slid him a smile, relieved that they’d had this talk. “But you were more stupid.”

  He laughed. “Gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

  She shrugged unrepentantly. “Just telling it like it is.”

  A noise from the stall drew their attention and Jake’s gaze sharpened, then he bolted into action. He leapt up, then offered her a hand. “She’s down,” he said quietly. “Here we go.”

  An excited thrill whipped through her as she moved into place next to Jake. Marzipan had indeed lain down, fortunately in the center of the stall.

  Jake lowered his head toward hers and she caught a whiff of his woodsy cologne. “That’s a contraction,” he whispered, inadvertently sending a chill down her spine.

  Jolie watched, didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to let it go. Then something amazing happened. She grabbed Jake’s arm. “I see hooves!”

  He chuckled softly at her. “That’s a good sign. Hooves first, then head, then the rest of the body.”

  She moved in closer, inadvertently--but oh so pleasantly--putting herself in front of him. Jake dropped his chin on top of her head, wrapped his a
rms around her waist and absorbed her weight against him. Jolie felt his breath leak slowly out of him, then her eyes fluttered shut, and she drank in the homecoming sensation. This was where she belonged, she thought.

  Right here. With him.

  Just as he’d predicted, the foal’s head emerged next and though the baby was covered in placenta, it was easily recognizable as Marzipan’s. “Oh, it’s white,” she said softly.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Jake hedged. “We’ll have to wait until it’s dry to really tell.”

  “Come on, Mama,” Jolie softly crooned to the horse. “Almost there.”

  And then it was. The rest of the body emerged, then Marzipan made quick work of the placenta and the baby horse started to move around.

  Absolutely awed and delighted, Jolie impulsively turned and hugged Jake. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That was...amazing.”

  Jake laughed, wrapped his arms even more firmly around her. His lips curled into an inherently sexy grin, he looked down and those twinkling silvery-gray eyes captured hers. In an instant the mood changed. Her belly trembled, gooseflesh raced down her back, and the air leaked out of her lungs.

  The hug might have been impulsive, but her kiss wouldn’t be. She wanted him--wanted them--and wanted him to know it. Jolie reached up and tenderly framed his face with her hands, watched his lids drop at her touch, then ever so gently--reverently--pressed her lips to his.

  The feeling was so exquisite, so perfect that for a moment she forgot to breathe.

  The sky could have fallen, the earth could have opened up beneath her feet...anything could have happened and she wouldn’t have noticed.

  Jake sighed into her mouth and she savored that breath, ate it, then slipped her tongue against his and silently asked for more.

  With a low growl of almost desperate approval, he pulled her closer, tunneled his fingers into her hair, then tilted her head to better align their mouths. He fed at her, sucked at her tongue, her bottom lip, then came back for more.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he growled softly. “Missed you so damned much.”

  Jolie’s heart melted...along with other parts of her. Her nipples tingled, her sex pulsed and her belly seemed to have been permanently set to vibrate. She couldn’t feel enough of him, couldn’t taste enough of them. It had been so long, so very, very long.

  To her immense regret and frustration, Jake very tenderly ended the kiss, and breathing heavily, rested his forehead against hers. “Will you spend the night with me?” he asked softly. “Stay here and let me love you?”

  Feeling a slow smile drift across her lips, Jolie nodded.

  Jake kissed her again, seemed unable to keep from tasting her, then checked on Marzipan and the foal, threaded his fingers through hers and guided her to the house.

  As impatient as she’d been, she couldn’t help but appreciate that he wanted to take things slow, savor their reunion and honor it with the respect that it deserved. Her hand in his, he slowly guided her through the house and, just as she’d suspected, he’d stayed true to their plan, almost as if he’d prepared it for her return. Pressed copper tiles lined the ceiling in the kitchen and a small wood-burning fireplace sat in the corner of the room. The living room had been equipped with built-in bookshelves and big open windows that caught the late afternoon breeze.

  It was beautiful, Jolie thought. Every bit as wonderful as she’d always imagined it would be. Despite the fact that she’d spent the past couple of weeks making her little house on Lelia Street a home, she suddenly didn’t care if she ever went back there. This was where she belonged.

  Right here, with him.

  Jake tugged her toward the bedroom. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined you here?” he said, his gaze hot with desire and warm with affection slipping over her--feasting on her. Loving her. “How many times I’ve been driven from this room--this house--because being in it without you felt so wrong?”

  Jolie felt tears mist her eyes. “Oh, Jake,” she said unable to elaborate as her heart pushed into her aching throat. She knew what he meant because she’d felt it, too. Had been like a ship without an anchor for years, drifting miserably around the world without him, and the idea that she didn’t have to anymore--that he was hers again--burrowed into her tripping heart and sent a warm tingle into her very fingertips.

  He slipped the pad of his thumb over her cheek, guided her into the bathroom where he turned on the tap and adjusted the shower, then slowly set about undressing her. His fingers skimmed over her ribcage as he pulled off her shirt, sent gooseflesh racing up her back as he unbuttoned her shorts and pushed them down her hips. Soon she was naked, mesmerized by the sweet sensual brush of his hot hands slipping reverently over her body.

  It had been so long and yet being with him was like stepping back into a long, slow beautiful dance. Easy, effortless...perfect.

  Her breasts heavy, her sex wet and her heart racing, Jolie tugged his shirt from beneath his waistband, drew it over the top of his head and cast it aside, then drank in the sight of him. Soft skin, hard perfectly sculpted muscle and bone. Crisp masculine hair, flat male nipples. Familiar. Loved. Hers.

  She offered her mouth up for a kiss, savored the intoxicating taste of his tongue against hers, blinked back another hot rush of redeeming tears as he gently nudged her into the glassed-in shower. She let her hands drift over his back, felt the muscle bunch beneath her fingertips, then he bent and latched his greedy mouth onto her breast, pulling a startled gasp from deep her in throat.

  Jolie closed her eyes, arched her back, purposely pushing her aching nipple further into his mouth. His masculine purr vibrated against her, sending a cascade of hot fizzies through her blood, all of which raced to her heavy, muddled womb. She could feel his hot length prod her belly and purposely opened her legs and rocked her hips forward, pushing him through her drenched folds, then gasped when he bumped the most sensitive part of her.

  Jake drew back, and his fevered gaze tangled with hers. “I’ve dreamed about this,” he confessed, his voice a sweet rough whisper. “I wanted to go slow, but I--“

  “Don’t,” Jolie said, rocking against him once more. She didn’t want to go slow. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, desired that connection more than her next breath. She’d missed him so much, needed him even more. “We’ve got time, right?”

  He knew what she was asking. What she wanted. Jake’s gaze softened, drifted lovingly over her face, then he very carefully, very slowly lifted her up and pushed into her. Her lungs deflated as he slid into her and she wrapped her arms around him, clenched her feminine muscles claiming him as her own. “All the time in the world, Jo,” he said, wincing with pleasure as he filled her up. “And you own every second.”

  Her eyes misted with emotion and he leaned forward and sipped up her tears. “I love you,” he murmured. He bent and kissed her again. “Here,” he said, his voice a soft husky whisper fraught with emotion. “Let me show you.”

  And as the water beat down upon them, washing away their mistakes, baptizing them with a clean beginning, he did.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Thank God,” Sophia muttered irritably as the mayor’s car finally pulled out of the drive. She Bitsy and Meredith had made a point to learn his schedule and this was the only night of the week that both he and his wife were gone. They had a standing reservation at Zeus’s, which gave Sophia plenty of time to make sure that the coast was clear before she left her hiding place next to the garage and moved behind the heavy shrubbery around the foundation of the house. Yew, Sophia thought, battling her way inside. If she ever planted another hedge, she’d definitely plant yew.

  Once in position, she lifted the scarf from around her neck and slipped it up over her nose. Anymore she didn’t know why she bothered. The stench of skunk was so horrible that she’d had to start throwing away her clothes after she came here. Honestly, she didn’t know how they stood it. If it had been her house, she’d hav
e moved out a long time ago.

  Frankly, she’d hoped that Greene would come to his senses before it came back around to her turn, but true to his ignorant, asinine form, the mayor had attended the Garden Club meeting this morning and bestowed another Beautification Award to another city council member, one who’s idea of gardening extended to bought potted plants--blasphemy!--and plastic pink flamingoes.

  It was outside of enough.

  She, Bitsy--who’d ridden her new pocket rocket to the meeting--and Meredith, had gotten together after the meeting and a still angry Meredith had given her their skunk attractant. If it wouldn’t make too much noise, Sophia would fill her Shop-Vac and blow the stuff under the house so thick that every skunk in the state would congregate here before they could even finish their appetizer, but alas it would make too much racket, so she stuck to the usual method. Duck walking around the house, she opened the foundation vents and starting tossing handfuls underneath. At least it was good exercise, she thought, deciding that she’d have another slice of cake when she got home.

  Besides, over the past couple of days, she’d been getting a different kind of work-out. Sophia’s lips slid into a smile and she barely suppressed a giggle. She’d never been a giggler.

  Or at least she hadn’t until she’d started having sex again.

  And not just any kind of sex. Wonderful, sweaty, down and dirty, sometimes tender sex. That first kiss from Edward had done something to her. Flipped an on switch that she hadn’t known she possessed.

  One minute he’d been pressing his lips to hers, and the next minute they were in his bed going at it like a couple of teenagers who were trying to get laid before anyone got home. It had been wild and wicked and later, when she’d begun to get embarrassed over her rash behavior, Edward had smiled at her, then kissed her again. “We’re old,” he’d said. “We don’t have to play by the usual rules.”