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 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 and savored the intoxicating taste of his tongue against hers, blinking 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, feeling the muscle bunch beneath her fingertips. Then he bent and latched his greedy mouth onto her breast, pulling a startled gasp from deep in her throat.
Jolie closed her eyes and arched her back, purposely pushing her aching nipple farther into his mouth. His masculine growl vibrated against her, sending a cascade of hot fizzies through her blood, all of which raced to her heavy 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 slowly, but I—"
"Don't," Jolie said, rocking against him once more. She didn't want to go slowly. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, desired that connection more than her next breath. She'd missed him so much and 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 wrapping her arms around him, she 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. "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, he did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"Thank God," Sophia muttered irritably as the mayor's car finally pulled out of the drive. She, Bitsy and Meredith had made a point of learning 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', 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. She didn't know why she bothered anymore. 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 have moved out a long time ago.
Frankly, she'd hoped that Greene would come to his senses before it had come 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 yet another city council member, one whose 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 fuming, 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 there, but alas it would make too much racket, so she stuck to the usual method. After 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 workout. 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."
And he'd been right. She could be dead by the time they finished what would be considered a proper courtship. Furthermore, she'd waited long enough. She didn't want to wait anymore.
A flashlight blinked on right in front of her, blinding her, and with a startled yelp, she fell backward on her ass. What the hell?
"Good evening, Sophia."
Edward?
Horrified, Sophia scrambled up and goggled at him. "What— How—"
"I followed you." His gaze dropped to the bag in her hand and he chuckled softly. "Catnip. Very crafty. I suspected as much."
Sophia had never been good with feminine wiles, so when she found herself in this horrible position, she didn't even bother. Instead, she threatened him. "Look, Edward. I don't know what you hope to gain by following me here, but if you've enjoyed our recent exercise—"
"Exercise?"
"You know what I mean," she snapped, blushing to the roots of her hair.
"It's sex, Sophia. We're having sex."
Though they were hidden behind eight feet of dense shrubbery, Sophia glanced around to make sure no one could see them. "Would you hush, please?" she begged, scandalized. "Sweet Jesus. What the hell are you doing here?"
He blinked at her. "I came to help."
Once again she found herself dumbfounded. "What?"
"Jimmy Pickens, the Beautification Award?" he scoffed, his usually amiable face dressed in a frown. "The man doesn't know his mulch from molasses. It's outrageous." He reached for the bag. "Give me some of that, would ya? I'll take the other side of the house."
True to his word, Edward moved around to the other side and left a shocked but delighted Sophia squatted behind the mayor's shrubs.
That settles it, she thought as the smell of skunk all but choked her. She'd found her man.
After all, it wasn't just any guy who'd be willing to vandalize with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
"Amazing, isn't it?" Jake asked. "Just a couple of weeks old and already the little guy is showing attitude."
Marzipan's colt, whom they'd named Ash because he'd ended up being a paler version of his father, galloped clumsily around the enclosure on tall, spindly legs.
Jolie chuckled, pressing her head against his upper arm, and the tender, unexpected warmth moved into his chest.
Contentment, Jake realized.
For the first time since they'd broken up, he was happy. Despite the two-year gap in their relationship, amazingly they'd picked up almost precisely where they'd left off, only at a better place because they both knew how precious their time together—their relationship, specifically—was.
Since the evening the colt was born, they hadn't spent a night apart. For all the work that Jolie had done on her little house, she'd easily started calling his place home—which was only fitting because it should have been hers all along—and had quickly relegated the Lelia Street house as a full-fledged office.
Aside from the bed—which they'd left to accommodate nooners—everything else had been move
d to the farm. Coming home to her was the highlight of his day. Be it in sweats or a negligee—and admittedly he had a thing for the black merry widow—when he walked through that door, she made him feel like she'd been waiting for him all day, whether she had been or not. Those slim arms would come around his waist, she'd lean up and kiss his chin, and regardless of what had happened during the course of the day, at that moment, everything became right in his world.
Because he was with her.
Jake curled his arm around her neck, propelling her reluctantly away from the paddock. "Come on. I've got a surprise for you."
Her hip bumped his as they walked along. "You do? What is it?"
"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise."
He opened the truck door for her and waited for her to slide in. "Can't fault a girl for tryin', can you?"
Jake joined her in the truck, aimed it toward one of their favorite hang-outs and waited for her to realize where they were going. When it turned off on Rabbit Trail Lane
, she figured it out and sent him a sidelong glance. "The fire tower?" she asked, surprised. "Wow," she breathed. "I haven't been out here in years."
Him either. He hadn't been able to go once they'd broken up. It had been too hard. He and Jolie had spent hours up in the loft, had plotted, planned, necked and loved up there and somehow making the trek up the stairs alone had never been something he could do.
He wheeled the truck off the main road and followed the rutted dirt lane until they were parked right next to it. Jolie didn't wait for him to open the door, but got out, shaded her eyes and looked up. "Yep. It's still tall."
Jake felt a chuckle bubble up his throat. "What? You think it's gonna shrink?"
She shot him a droll look. "Smart ass."
He put a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. "You go first," he said as they walked to the steps.
She turned, green eyes twinkling with warm affection. "So you can catch me if I fall?"
That was the plan, Jake thought, falling in behind her. They'd always done it that way. She went up first, so that he could catch her, and he came down first for the very same reason. He wanted his body between her and possible danger.
Jolie hurried up ahead of him and mere minutes later they were at the top looking out over Moon Valley. It was gorgeous. The late afternoon sun gilded the trees and sparkled over the river, painting it bright orange.
Jolie braced her elbows against the rail and let go a soft sigh that hissed through his blood. Jake moved in behind and wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm not going to fall," she admonished softly.
"I know that," he told her. "I just want to hold you."
In fact, he wanted to hold her forever. He'd proposed to her in this very spot when they were sixteen, and somehow it seemed only fitting that they revisit it for the encore. Jake gripped her shoulders and slowly turned her around, then pulled in a shuddering breath and groped in his front pocket for the ring he'd placed there.
She gasped when she saw it and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Jake," she said, her voice clogged with emotion.
He chuckled nervously, took her hand and slipped it on her finger. "You're gonna marry me."
She blinked, smiled. "Is that a proposal?"
He cocked his head. "More like an edict."
She pulled back and glared at him. "Oh, really."
"Someone told me to start as I meant to go on." He winced. "It's not gonna work, is it? The whole lord-of-the-manor, do-as-I-say-woman approach?"
She ducked her head and bit her lip to hide a smile. "No."
Jake heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fine. In that case, Jolie Michelle Caplan … will you marry me?"
Her misty eyes searched his. "Yes," she breathed, then tilted her chin up and offered him her lips. He didn't know how long they kissed, how long they stood there. Time, at least in this dimension of happiness, didn't exist.
When the sun finally slipped beneath the tree tops, Jake decided they'd better go down. He placed another lingering kiss on her mouth, then reluctantly made the trip back to the ground.
He was debating the merit of going out for dinner versus staying in and feasting on her, when he opened the car door and her purse fell to the ground, spilling ah the contents.
Jake swore. "Sorry," he muttered and instantly dropped down and starting gathering up her things. He picked up a compact, a tube of lipstick, her wallet and … his gaze zeroed in on a little pink book with a hat and gloves on the cover, similar to the pin she'd taken to wearing since the night she'd gotten hammered at her so-called bridge meeting.
"Don't worry about…" Her voice trailed off as she looked up and saw what he held. She swallowed. "Jake, could I have that back, please?"
Jake looked away, summoning patience. This was the key to what she'd been hiding, he knew it. And yet despite the fact that she'd just agreed to marry him, she still wanted to keep secrets? "Jolie, you can trust me. Let me prove it," he implored.
Looking like she couldn't decide whether to puke or bolt, she chewed her bottom lip and whimpered.
"Jolie."
She finally met his gaze. "Jake, if you look inside that little book, you have to swear to me that you'll never—and I repeat never—repeat a word of it to another living soul."
Geez, from the way she was carrying on you'd think she had the map to the Holy Grail in there. Jake nodded. "Okay."
She let go a breath. "Then you can look at it. But brace yourself," she added direly.
Jake flipped the little book open, read the title page and felt his eyes widen in shock. "The Future Widows' Club? What the hell is the Future Widows' Club?"
"Read on," she said miserably. "You'll figure it out."
Five minutes later, he closed the little book and though he knew what it was—and better still why she'd added the life insurance, checked out the burial plans and bought the outfit—he wasn't any closer to understanding it. "Let me get this straight," Jake said, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "You're in a secret society of women who are anxiously waiting for their husband's to die?"
She nodded.
He frowned. "And this is where you were the night Chris was murdered? At one of these meetings?"
She nodded again.
"Christ." Jake looked away. "Jolie, for the love of God, why didn't you think this was relevant?"
"Because I didn't do it."
"I know that. Still…"
"I needed them," she said simply. "I was only a member for a couple of weeks before Chris died, but they were the best weeks of my life in the past two years." Seemingly exasperated, she looked away. "You're a guy. You're just not going to get it. I didn't want Chris to be dead, not really … but until I could file for divorce it was the best thing I had." She swallowed. "And it's all they've got. You can't take it away from them."
Knowing how miserable she'd been, Jake did understand. Did he agree with it? No. But, in all honesty, he didn't see the harm. He let go a breath. "I just have one question."
She looked up and quirked a cautious brow. "What?"
"Are you going to remain a member when I'm your husband?"
Her lips curled and she pulled a lazy shrug. "Lifetime membership," she said. "But I'll be mentoring to future widows rather than preparing to be one."
Jake cocked his head. "Fair enough, I suppose."
She gazed at him questioningly. "That's it? That's all you've got to say about it?"
"Was I supposed to say more? They're not hurting anybody, are they?"
"No."
"Then I don't see the problem."
A slow grin spread across her lips and those pale green eyes danced with affection. "I love you."
"I know," he said, placing a quick but tender kiss on her lips. "Which is the only reason you get to keep playing bridge."
EPILOGUE
Six months later…
"I'll be home before nine."
Jolie's heart warmed as Jake kissed her cheek and then rubbed her bell
y. "You'd better be," he told her. "Mothers-to-be need their rest." He frowned. "And try not to get too upset, would you? Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I could—"
Jolie blinked back tears and shook her head. "No. You can't. You know that." No one in the FWC was aware that Jake knew about them. They'd worry, and in light of recent events, they had all of that they could handle at the moment. Jolie swallowed tightly.
They'd buried Bitsy today.
"At least let me take you. You can call when you're ready and I'll come pick you up."
"I can drive, Jake," she said. "I'm only pregnant, not on medication."
"I know. I'd just feel better if—"
She gave him another peck and grabbed her purse. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."
Jolie slid behind the wheel and made her way to Meredith's on autopilot. She still couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that Bitsy was really gone. Granted Jolie had known her for a little over six months, but she'd grown very fond of the eccentric older woman. But the worst part was looking at Sophia and Meredith. They were shattered, particularly Meredith who'd warned Bitsy about getting the little motorcycle which had ultimately caused her death. Too vain to wear her glasses beneath the helmet, she'd crashed it through Dilly's Bakery. The impact hadn't killed her, but the heart attack which had immediately followed had.
Sophia had come up to Jolie at the funeral and told her that Bitsy's attorney had been to see her and that apparently Bitsy had left a box to be opened in the event of her death. Per Bitsy's written instructions, only Sophia, Meredith, Jolie and curiously, Sadie, were allowed to be present when the box was opened. Meredith had asked her to come early tonight. They were going to go through it before the rest of the FWC arrived. Jolie couldn't imagine what on earth could be in the box that could pertain to her, but wasn't about to ignore one of Bitsy's last wishes.
THE FUTURE WIDOW'S CLUB Page 19
