by T. F. Walsh
“What’s up, boss?” Perry asked in a typically bright tone. “You look pensive.”
Joely looked at her with a grim sigh. “No, just thinking.” The joke fell flat, and Perry cocked an eyebrow. Joely shrugged in apology. “Nothing new. Just Rey. Mister ‘give me a month to be your husband again.’ Mister ‘I’m too sexy to live.’ Mister ‘I know just where to touch you to make all your brains fall out of your head.’” She stopped, not sure if she was about to laugh or cry.
“Rough night, huh?” said Perry with a wry grin.
“I guess that depends on your definition of rough.” She put her face in her hands as Perry took the chair on the other side of the desk.
“You want to talk?” Perry offered.
Joely shook her head. “No. But I probably should.”
Perry waited patiently for Joely to collect herself. “We were a good couple. I mean, we were a really good couple. We had these rhythms, these ways of doing things. It was like we breathed together, like we were one person sometimes.”
Perry nodded sagely. “What happened?”
“I was working for a design team for a company that made ceramics. I loved the work, but my boss was a pig. I filed a sexual harassment case. Rey was young and gung-ho, and he insisted on representing me.”
Perry made a face. “Ooo. I see what’s coming.”
“Exactly. Rey was a good lawyer, but he didn’t have the experience my boss’ lawyer did. He got ripped up one side and down the other in that courtroom. I ended up having to quit my job. After that, it was only a matter of time. He was humiliated, and he threw himself into his work trying to prove himself to his company and, I think, to me. I was devastated, with no job and suddenly no husband, either. It didn’t matter to me that he’d lost the case. I knew he’d done the best he could. What mattered to me was having his support while I tried to move on with my life, but he just wasn’t there. Finally I got tired of trying to catch his attention, so I threw fake divorce papers at him and left.” She shrugged. “Looking back, I don’t think I really thought about the consequences.”
Perry shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s really nothing to say. I just have to decide what I’m going to do about him now.”
“Do you want him back?”
“I’m not sure. But I don’t think I can send him away. Not now. Not after last night. Maybe not ever.”
Perry grinned. “The ol’ magic’s still there, huh?”
Joely nodded. “There’s no thinking things out logically when that kind of thing’s going on.”
“That’s some good sex, then.”
“You have no idea.” Joely looked back at the computer, moving the mouse a little to deactivate the screensaver. The yearly profit graphs popped back up again, filling the screen. “But I can’t forget this. How much of this do I have to give up to keep him? Is there any way I can have both?”
“Do you think he’d want you to go back to New York?”
Joely shook her head. She really wasn’t sure. Rey had always seemed to her to thrive on the pace and the atmosphere of New York City, but she supposed it was possible he could change. She had certainly changed, over the last couple of years. Could she change back? Maybe, but it would be terribly painful for her to let go of all the work she’d done here.
Perry settled her chin into the curve of one hand. “It might be worth it, you know.”
That, Joely decided, was what scared her the most. “You might be right.”
• • •
After he finished the small amount of work he had to do for the day, Rey was at loose ends. With nothing else to do, he paced the living room for a time, until he found himself drinking his third cup of coffee in front of the living room’s bay window.
The view was spectacular, still draped with snow, though much had melted in the warmer weather of the past two days. Joely’s house appeared to have very little backyard, aside from a small flat area where her barn/studio stood. The property sloped down from the tiny back deck into a pine-filled valley. Beyond it rose more mountains, punctuated with rocky outcroppings. Stretches of green and snow-whitened pine trees alternated with strips of bare, silver trees. The closest patch of these wasn’t far from the back of Joely’s house. They had white bark, like birches, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what they were. He’d have to ask Joely.
He drained the coffee cup and put it in the sink, then, on a whim, headed out the front door.
The slope of the property wasn’t as extreme as it had looked from the house, and he hiked down the edge of the valley to see what he could see. But what impressed him most wasn’t so much what he could see, but what he could hear. Or, more accurately, couldn’t hear.
No traffic. No sirens. No people sounds at all. He heard birds and squirrels, the wind whispering through the pine needles. The air, saturated with the odor of pine and clean soil, smelled like no one had breathed it in centuries.
He realized suddenly that he’d been standing utterly still for several minutes. It was as if time had stopped. He was so used to seconds and minutes and hours flying by him, so filled with activity he barely knew when one ended and the next began. This was different—time flowing by like slow water, soothing instead of urging him, minutes melting seamlessly from one to the next, but in a way that quieted him instead of speeding him along.
He found a snow-free spot and lowered himself to the ground. It was still damp, and prickly with pine needles, but he didn’t mind. Sitting this way, with Joely’s house behind him and the wide stretch of rolling mountains in front of him, it was as if he were the only human being on the planet.
He sat for a long time, feeling the wind against his skin, in his hair, listening to the soft, natural sounds, smelling the clean, thin air. The sky above was a rich, sapphire blue, a color he’d never seen in the sky before. Everything tumultuous and anxious inside him stilled and settled. He hadn’t felt this peaceful since—actually, he was pretty sure he’d never felt this peaceful before in his life. Unless it was in the womb, and he couldn’t remember that.
He’d known from the beginning of this venture that one very large obstacle stood between himself and Joely. Besides his own ego, that is. That was the issue of relocation. He knew that after so long in Colorado, Joely would probably be reluctant to move back to New York. He’d also known that he had no particular desire to leave New York. But today, for the first time, he could picture that happening. It had seemed ridiculous to think he could be happy, or even comfortable, living in the mountains, practically in the middle of nowhere, after a lifetime in the bustling City. But something here touched him deeply.
He had no idea how long he sat there, but finally he realized his foot had fallen asleep. Reluctantly, he stood, stomped it a few times, and continued his walk, to see what other treasures he could find.
• • •
Joely hadn’t heard from Rey all day, and drove home suspended between anxiety and anticipation, wondering what he’d been up to, all alone in her house.
Assuming he hadn’t made other arrangements, she had a pizza in the back seat of the car. There’d been leftovers from last night, but neither of them had remembered to put them in the refrigerator, and she’d had to toss them in the garbage on her way out this morning. As for dessert—well, there was still the pie, which had made it into the fridge. Or, even better, there was Rey.
Though it was a tremendously hard thing for her to do, she’d decided today that she just had to let go. Let things happen as they would without dwelling on where they might lead. More importantly, without trying so hard to be sure they led where she wanted them to go. Rey’s return was a gift in and of itself. She should take it, relish it, and be prepared to let it go if necessary. She hoped she wouldn’t have to, but if she did, at least if she were prepared, it wouldn’t be such a shock to her system.
Rey’s rental car still stood in the driveway, but when she went into the house, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Rey?” she called, sliding the pizza onto the table. No answer. “Rey, I’m home!”
Still nothing. Where in the world could he be? Walking to the front bay window, she saw a light on in her workshop. She frowned and headed back outside.
Sure enough, he was in there. He’d helped himself to her supplies and was shaping a piece of clay on her sculpting table. He smiled as she came in.
“Good day at work?”
“Not bad.” She gestured toward the table. “What are you doing?”
With a grin, he turned the piece of clay to face her. The shapes were roughly formed, but she could tell what they were supposed to be—two naked figures, one male and one female, in a not-quite-compromising position. “Remind you of anything?” he said.
She smiled and walked toward him. Taking the clay figures from his hand, she turned them, admiring the workmanship, or lack thereof. “Yes, of course it does.”
“I really haven’t improved any, have I?”
She set the almost-statue back down. “Not a bit.”
They’d met in college, when Rey had been in his last year of law school and Joely had been finishing her bachelor’s degree in graphic arts. Rey had signed up for a sculpting class specifically to meet girls. Bored by the slow pace of lessons, and completely inept at throwing pots, he’d spent most of his time making naked people. He’d learned nothing whatsoever about sculpting, but he had met Joely, who for whatever reason had found his little statues more endearing than offensive. Maybe because he’d acted out little plays with them, just for her, making her laugh. In return she’d tried to teach him to throw pots, but he’d been hopeless.
Now, six years and one almost-divorce later, he picked the damp statue up and wiggled it. The two figures looked like they were making love, but Rey said in a falsetto voice, “No, move to the right. My bra’s hooked on your sweater.” Then, in a deeper tone, “Is that better? Ow, you just stuck your boob in my eye.”
Joely laughed, covering it with her hand just as if there was a teacher still present to chastise them. He made it easy to remember those days, when they’d just begun to fall in love. It had been crazy then, a sort of elemental force that dragged them both in and wouldn’t let them go. Of course, such things faded with time, but here it all was again, the warmth filling her, the trembling in her stomach, the uncertainty about where it would all lead making each moment seem more immediate.
“Show me how to throw a pot,” he said.
“No way. Forget it.”
He looked hurt. “Why not?”
“Because you’ll start singing ‘Unchained Melody’ and then I’ll have to be ill.”
He chuckled. It was a good sound—one of the first things she’d noticed about him, she recalled, her memories full now of those days in sculpting class. His chuckle had always sounded genuine, not to mention sexy, with a little bit of gravel to it. “You’re right. I probably couldn’t resist.” They’d reenacted that scene from Ghost more than once, usually spoofing it, but still usually also ending up naked. It had finally gotten old, turning into a private joke between them. He’d start humming the song, and she’d roll her eyes and puff out her cheeks, pretending it made her sick.
It might not be so old, now, though. It had been long enough it just might be exciting again.
His smile faded from his mouth, but still crinkled the corners of his eyes as he met her gaze across the room. He was thinking the same thing, she could tell. But suddenly her resolution to let things go as they would wavered. Maybe because this whole situation—the clay, the talking statue—was too firmly rooted in the past. She backed toward the door, still caught in the heat radiating from his eyes.
“I brought home pizza,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded. Looking down, she noticed that he’d pushed the clay figures into each other, wedging them together until one was no longer distinguishable from the other.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go eat.”
• • •
They were just finishing dinner when Rey said, nonchalantly, “I poked around in the hot tub today.”
Joely looked up from her last bite of pizza. “And?”
“It looks to me like the pH levels are okay. How long has it been since you treated the water?”
“I treat it once a week, whether I’m using it or not. Otherwise I have to drain it and start over every time I decide to use it, and that’s not fun.”
He nodded. “Anyway, I was thinking, what’s a trip to Colorado without a dunk in a hot tub?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re going for ‘incomplete’?”
“Got it in one. What do you say?”
“Did you bring a swimsuit?”
“Do I need one?”
The innocent look in his eyes made her shake her head. “No, I guess you don’t.”
“Then let’s clean this up and get going.”
She picked up the nearly empty pizza box and transferred it to the counter. “What about that thirty-minute rule? You know, about swimming after eating.”
“This isn’t swimming, and that’s all a big lie anyway. Don’t you keep up with these major health announcements?”
“I guess I missed that one.”
She stuffed the last few slices of pizza into a plastic storage bag and put them in the refrigerator. No wasted leftovers tonight. Was that a bad thing or a good thing, that she’d managed to be practical with Rey talking about being naked in the hot tub? She felt like an old married woman, bantering casually about sex without actually doing anything about it.
But wasn’t that what she’d wanted to be when she’d married Rey? Eventually, anyway—an old married woman with her old husband next to her, joking about Viagra. It wasn’t such a bad place to be. Her parents were like that, and they’d been happily married nearly forty years. Life could be a lot worse.
She went into the living room to find Rey in the process of taking off his underwear. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he said, balancing on one leg and displaying just about everything he had to offer in the process. “I mean, you seemed a little weird about the clay thing.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, enjoying the show as he hopped on one foot, jiggling and bouncing in very interesting places. His erection rose as she looked at it, so she looked at it some more. It continued to harden, forming a lovely arc toward his stomach. His testicles jiggled amusingly for a few seconds, then stilled as they tightened. As well as she’d known him, she’d never watched this process in stark light, and it intrigued her. She smiled. Rey looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“That’s because it’s impossible to get clay out of your clothes,” she said.
That wasn’t the only reason, though. This was the new Rey, not the old, college-aged Rey he’d tried to recreate before. If she was going to move ahead, it had to be with the new version. In this, as in all other things in life, there was no going back.
He rolled his underwear into a ball and tossed it into the pile with his other clothes. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
“Yeah. Just a minute.”
She unbuttoned her blouse as he opened the door, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his tight, naked ass as he walked away from her, toward the door to the deck. That hadn’t changed much. She was glad it hadn’t. He’d always had a fine ass.
She took off her shirt and tossed it on top of Rey’s clothes, then went to grab some towels before she forgot.
Joely had never spent a great deal of time in the hot tub, and when she had, it had usually been for therapeutic reasons—loosening back muscles clenched from too many hours on her feet at the shop, or just for stress relief. She’d never had anyone else in it until now. So, even though she rarely wore a suit in the tub, and even though it was Rey who sat there waiting for her to get in, she felt a little self-conscious as she laid the towels down on the deck, then climbed up the two wooden stairs to step into the water. Rey watched her with an appreciative sm
ile.
“Is this too hot?” he asked. “I turned the thermostat up a little.”
“No, it’s fine.” It was warmer than she usually kept it, but not uncomfortable. She settled into one of the tub’s molded plastic seats and reached over to turn on the jets. Pulsing streams of water began to pound against her back, just hard enough to feel good after a long day of work.
“Mmm,” said Rey. “That’s nice.”
She looked toward him to see him with his eyes half closed, wriggling against the sensation of the water jets. The sight aroused her instantly. She crossed her legs against the hot, wet need pooling between them. It didn’t help—the friction just increased the sensation, and the hot water of the tub aroused her that much more. She wanted him inside her so badly, wanted him deep, wanted him to take her hard up against the side of the tub—
He opened his eyes and looked back at her, a wicked grin curling the sensuous curves of his mouth. “No wonder you haven’t needed a man around. You’ve had this hot tub. I’m jealous.” He moved sinuously against the jet she knew was right behind him, and she couldn’t help but wonder exactly where he was directing the sharp, pulsing current.
She gathered herself. “Yes, a girl can have many of her emotional and sexual needs filled by a large plastic bucket of hot water equipped with pulsating jets,” she said wryly.
His grin deepened, and wickedness flashed in his eyes. “You’re a very bad girl. I like that.” Lifting a hand out of the water, he beckoned to her. “C’mere.”
She tilted him a skeptical look, but half-floated her way across the tub to sit next to him. His arm closed around her waist and he drew her tight against him, his mouth seeking hers.
There was no point even thinking about resisting him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as his lips pressed against hers, softly at first, exploring. He kissed her as if it were the first time he’d ever done so, as if there were a million new, small sensations to find there in the meeting of his lips with hers. One hand moved up from her waist to cup her breast, rolling her taut nipple against the middle of his palm. Desire shot through her and she moaned low in her throat, pushing herself closer to him. She was already so hot, so slick. She felt like if she breathed the right way, she would fall into orgasm.
