by JoAnn Ross
“Did you propose to me this morning?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Her lips turned down. What appeared to be disappointment shadowed her green eyes like mist filtering through the trees outside the window.
“I asked you if you’d ever thought about marrying a cop. Because if I propose—” actually when, but he didn’t want to scare her off “—and you happen to be inclined to say yes, I wanted you to know what you’d be getting into.”
“Oh.” She covered her eyes again. “Shelby’s right, dammit.”
Aiden was hesitant to ask, but they were finally having the conversation he’d wanted to have this morning and was afraid to blow it.
“About what?” He laced her fingers together, encouraged when she didn’t yank that hand that was pressing on her forehead away.
“That you’re sweet. And perfect. And I’m afraid because I want to let myself love you.”
“Is it that hard?”
“No.” She took the cloth off again to look at him. “It’s that easy.” Then she covered her eyes and sighed. “And that’s the problem. Also, we get along too well.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“No. Because it’s so easy, I can’t trust it. We haven’t ever had our black moment. Except for when those guys slipped the Ecstasy in my beer trying to get me to have sex with them. But I told them I was only going to have sex with you. And suddenly, there you were. Like you’d been magically conjured up by my wish.
“So, I have this vague, horrid memory of climbing you like a tree and begging you to take me, which was probably a really bad impression of a porn movie. Not that I’ve ever seen a porno, but I imagine that’s how sexually aggressive actresses behave in them, given that the industry caters to male fantasies.”
This time he pulled the cloth off her eyes and leaned over her until they were practically nose to nose. “You were nothing like porn. You were a sweet, innocent girl who’d been drugged by some bastard rich college frat boys because I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life by trying to keep you from putting your life on hold to wait for me. If I’d told you the truth then, that I loved you and wanted to marry you when I got out of the Marines, you never would’ve been at that damn party.”
Her eyes widened. And cleared. “You wanted to marry me?”
“Not then because we were too young. But yeah. I always knew you were The One.”
“Me, too. You,” she admitted softly. “But it’s complicated.”
“Because of the black moment.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Never. Especially now. About this. Though you still haven’t told me what the hell it is.”
“It’s that moment, when all is lost, and the hero, or in a romance, perhaps when the couple, knows they can never be together. In a movie, it’s usually at the end of the second act leading into the third. Novels can have a looser structure but it has to happen before the climax.”
“You can’t tell me that you’ve faked one climax. At least with me. So maybe we get to skip the black moment.”
“You know very well that’s not the kind of climax I’m talking about.”
“You’re talking about fiction.”
“True. But fiction mirrors life.”
“Not always. I’ve been to Forks lots of times and have never seen a sparkly vampire.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not there,” she pointed out. “They might be like ghosts. Only visible to those who are supposed to see them.”
He wondered what she’d say if he told her how close to home she’d hit with that one.
“What if I don’t want a black moment? What if I just want to love you? Forever and ever. Amen.”
“You’re proposing with a line from a country song?”
“Maybe. But may I point out that you’re trying to squeeze our lives into some concept created for screenplays. When I’m talking real life.”
“Speaking of real life, I got a job offer today.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. From a top Hollywood producer. That Kendall I mentioned. Kendall Powers is a big deal and she and a group of other women are forming a studio. Like D.W. Griffith, Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks did when they established United Artists in 1919 to allow actors to control their own interests, rather than being dependent upon the big commercial studios. She offered me a job as top makeup artist to a feature-length film that’s got Oscar written all over it. She’s even got Chris Pine and Jennifer Lawrence on board.”
“And you were worried about being blacklisted. I told you that you were too good for that to happen.”
“It would mean being away.”
“For how long?”
“Six weeks.”
“Hell, that’s nothing. I was drunk for a lot longer than that. Where is it being filmed?”
“Vancouver, BC. Not Washington.”
“Could I come up and visit on an occasional day off?”
“Of course. You could probably even be like Mom and score a part as an extra. You’re so ridiculously good-looking, you could probably become a star.”
“I think I’ll pass. So, problem solved.”
“What if I was offered a job in New Zealand?”
“I’ve always wanted to see those islands.”
She lightly slapped his arm. “You’re being impossible.”
“On the contrary. I think I’m being perfectly logical. You’ve worked hard to establish a successful career, so why should you give it up?”
“What if we had children?”
“Are you saying you want to?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, then cringed. Oh, yeah, she was going to be regretting that Baileys in the morning. “Maybe. But how could we, if I had a career?”
“You’re talking to a guy whose mom had a career while raising five kids.”
“And we’ve already discussed that she’s Wonder Woman.”
“Our kid, or kids, if we did have any, would have two grandmothers who’d love a chance to take care of them from time to time. And does this new job offer enough for a nanny?”
“Yes, but...”
He bent down and kissed her, tasting the chocolate ice cream and Baileys. “Problem solved.”
“Except you’re refusing to give me a dark moment. Which we need. What if we get married, then rush into it and it breaks us up?”
He managed, with effort, not to roll his eyes and reminded himself that she was under the influence of alcohol that had undoubtedly heightened emotions while fogging logic.
“Okay,” he said, standing up. “Here’s your black moment... Angel and I are going over to my place. Maybe we’ll see you at tomorrow’s boat parade. Or not. Because this seems to be your hero’s journey, so you have to make the next move. Meanwhile, I’m not going anywhere and in a town this size I’ll be easy to find when you’re ready.”
He bent down, framed her face between his palms and gave her a long, hard, deep kiss intended to not only make her head spin even more, but remind her what she’d be missing if she gave up on him.
Then he whistled for the dog, who immediately jumped off the bed and followed him out of the room.
“Traitor,” he heard her mutter. Aiden wasn’t sure whether she was talking about the dog, him or both of them.
“Not one word,” he said when he saw Bodhi sitting in the passenger seat, singing a Beach Boys song.
“Hell. You didn’t screw it up?”
“I don’t think so. I’m hoping I set it up. I guess we’ll see over the next few days. Have you ever heard of some damn thing called the black moment?”
“Sure, it’s a symbolic death when people, or characters, lose everything they’ve achieved. Wealth, power, love, whatever.” He shrugged. “That’s when they have to be w
illing to do anything to win, because, hell, there’s nothing left to lose. And then, once they’ve survived the fire of the black moment and risen from the ashes, they’re stronger and more determined than before. That’s when they achieve whatever they perceive success to be.”
Aiden stared at him before turning onto the Old Fort Road, heading back to his rental house, which he’d decided to take Seth’s advice and buy. With all the flowers and cats and antique stuff taken out, and the kitchen opened up, it could make a great starter home for Jolene and him. She did say it reminded her of her beloved Gilmore Girls house, which he took as approval. “How the hell do you know all that?”
“You’re talking to a philosophy major who had two psychologists for parents. You didn’t think we talked about surfing or cop stuff over dinner, did you?”
“Jolene wants a black moment. Said we needed it. I think it’s crap.”
“You had your own black moment at the coast house,” Bodhi pointed out. “The least you can do is give her hers. Then you can both win.”
When put that way, it kind of made sense, Aiden decided. “I just hope to hell she hurries up.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
FIVE MINUTES LATER, Jolene was lying down again, the wet cloth back on her forehead, rerunning the conversation with Shelby, and the two she’d had with Aiden over and over again in her mind. Maybe she was wrong. Okay, more than maybe. But, then again, she was under the influence of three Christmas channel movies and a third of a bottle of Baileys. So, she wasn’t sure her mind could be trusted.
But her heart was telling her something else entirely different. That she had always loved him, that after all these years, they’d been given a second chance, and if she let this opportunity pass, she might never get another. And then she might as well buy Aiden’s house, because she’d already have the wallpaper when she became a lonely cat lady. Or worse yet, a gnome lady. Though, at least Mrs. Gunderson had enjoyed a long, happy marriage before her husband’s fishing boat went down in a sudden storm off the coast.
That thought had her remembering a story Brianna had told her. About when she’d been working at a hotel in Hawaii and an elderly woman would show up every year with an urn filled with her husband’s ashes. She’d stay in the same room they’d stayed together on their honeymoon, and take that urn all over the island to all the places they’d visited together during that honeymoon and decades of anniversary trips. Although it might seem weird, or even a tad creepy to some, Brianna had found it a sweet display of a true and lasting love. Of course, for all her organizational skills, Brianna was, at heart, a romantic who’d married the man she’d loved since second grade.
Jolene had never considered herself a coward. Hadn’t she survived years of bullying, that horrible night on the beach, going back to school and getting her degree? And how many girls would set off for Hollywood and sleep in a car, then keep working her way up the ladder to where she could reach the top of her game and be offered a job on a movie with Oscar potential? All that had taken determination, and an unwillingness to surrender. Yet, as she’d already seen, all the success in the world didn’t make for true happiness.
Although it took her mother’s cancer scare to get her back to Honeymoon Harbor, she was truly happy here. Happy to have reunited with her mother, her friend Brianna, and to be making new friends like, of all people, Ashley.
And she could have Aiden. If she wasn’t too afraid to go for him. This wasn’t technically a black moment. Because she hadn’t really lost Aiden. It just felt as if she had, which was dark and sad and had her feeling wretchedly lonely. But here’s where she had to do like all those characters in those movies she’d overdosed on today. She needed to make that leap of faith toward love.
She reached for her phone. “I am not a commitmentphobe,” she told Shelby. “I just never met the man I wanted to grow old with. Don’t make any plans for next July. And I promise I won’t make you wear pink taffeta.”
“Go for it!” Shelby said.
Her second call was to her mother at the salon. “Hi, are you and Mike going to the boat parade tomorrow night?”
“We wouldn’t miss it.”
“Can I ride with you? I’m planning to agree to marry Aiden and I don’t want to be stuck with my car at the dock.”
“Of course. And it’s about time. How about we have tea at the Mad Hatter tomorrow? Then afterward we’ll go over to the Dancing Deer and find you some appropriate seduction clothes.”
“Newsflash. The seduction ship has sailed. And I have clothes.”
“You have flannel pajamas with snowmen on them.”
“They’re warm.”
“That’s not the point. That’s Aiden’s job to keep you warm. Tomorrow’s going to be the biggest night of your life until your wedding night.”
“But hey, no pressure,” Jolene murmured.
“I want to do this for you. After all, you came home for me.”
“A cancer scare is lot higher on the importance scale as after-parade sex.”
“If not for that, I may never have blurted out that I wanted Mike as a lover, and could still be waiting for him to make a move. And, for the record, commitment sex is different than just sleeping together. You’re agreeing to become a pair, to bond. It should be celebrated.”
“You’ve been talking with Seth’s mother, haven’t you?”
“Go ahead and laugh, but although Caroline’s recently acquired belief system may be thought of as New Age, there’s some ancient wisdom in it we’d be wise to follow. I’ll make reservations for noon. That’ll give us time for tea, and shopping, and then you can get some sexy new lingerie to knock Aiden’s socks off.”
Jolene was about to assure her mother that Aiden had seemed to like her underwear just fine (not that it stayed on very long once they were in the bedroom), when she realized she did want to knock his socks off. And maybe this time climb him like poison ivy on purpose.
“I’ll see you at noon,” she agreed.
She hung up, drank another glass of water in an attempt to rehydrate and not be faced with a hangover tomorrow, then pointed the clicker at the TV, and turned to a Christmas movie about a couple set up by their families to be snowed in over the holidays in a mountain cabin.
* * *
“THIS SUIT SMELLS like mothballs,” Aiden complained as he adjusted the stupid pillow beneath the Santa outfit.
“That’s probably because it’s been in a trunk since last year,” Donna said. “But don’t worry, once you get out on the lake, the salt air and smell of the firs will fix it.”
“I still think as chief, I should be able to delegate.”
“The people will love you,” she assured him.
“Yeah, you’ll sure turn your girl on wearing that,” Bodhi said.
He was just about complain about the beard itching when his cell rang. He pulled it out, exchanged a look with Bodhi and told Donna, “I’m going to start airing it out now.”
“Don’t go out the front door,” she said. “We want you to be a surprise. Go out the back into the alley.”
Even better. That way he wouldn’t risk stinking up his rig. “What do you have?” he asked the caller, keeping the phone to his ear to prevent any passersby overhearing.
“Enough that the DA is pressing charges this afternoon. On conspiracy, at least two counts of murder, probably more, given some dealers died in that shoot-out, and a host of other stuff that should keep him in solitary confinement for the rest of his life.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He gave a thumbs-up to Bodhi. “Are you going to need me to testify?”
“Nah. No offense, Mannion, but with your sketchy memory, I wouldn’t want to put you on the stand. We’ve got some guys on the other side who are willing to flip for a plea deal and they’ve got the money trail to prove it. You’ve got to be organized to run a deal as complex as that one was,
and they kept records. As for the wife—”
“Jessica,” Aiden corrected.
“Yeah, her. My wife had the idea to check out where she’d gone to school and start contacting sorority sisters in case she stayed tight with any of them.”
“And?”
“We found three from Alpha Delta Pi. All knew about ongoing abuse from her husband, going back to when they were dating. Two were concerned enough to keep contemporaneous diaries. Just in case they ever needed to testify. They hoped it would be in a divorce case, but wanted to be prepared for the worst. So, two detectives are picking him up any minute, then we’ll set the wheels in motion.”
“Thanks,” Aiden said.
“Thanks back. Dirty cops give us all a bad name. I’m glad to get this one. And I suspect we’ll run down more over the next weeks and months. You sure you don’t want to come back? It’s got to be getting boring up there.”
“Hey, when did you ever get the chance to locate a missing gnome?”
“I’m not going to ask.”
“It’s just as well. I’m also getting hitched.”
“Huh. Well, good luck with that and we’ll keep you updated.”
“I heard,” Bodhi said when Aiden turned to tell him the details of the call.
“I’m not going to ask how you heard both sides of the conversation.”
“Just as well,” Bodhi said. “Because I don’t have a clue. But hey, dude, just in case this is it, because I’m getting the feeling that now that everything’s wrapped up, and you’re not only okay with being alive, but crazy in love, and the DC’s going to prison, I’ll probably be blowing this pop stand soon. So, have yourself an epic time playing Santa and an awesome life. And when you finally get the girl, which you will, don’t be surprised if you see me back here for the wedding. Just don’t expect me to wear a tux.”
And then, just like that, he was gone.
* * *
APPARENTLY MOTHER NATURE was feeling benevolent toward this part of the Olympic Peninsula, because with the exception of a lone cloud floating overhead, the night of the parade was as clear and bright as it had been for the tree lighting. While the temperature was briskly cold, everyone was dressed for the weather and enjoying the music from the band yet again, and cups of cocoa being handed out by the high school pep club.
