A Notion of Love

by Abbie Williams

  “He’s a lot like his dad, isn’t he?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah. He’s sweet as could be, never gets upset, just like Chris,” I said, but no tears sprang into my eyes. Instead I just felt grateful that I had my boy, and that in him the best parts of Chris would live on.

  “Chris would love to see how much he’s grown. Clint is a good kid. You should be proud of yourself, Jills,” Justin said.

  I brought his hand up, our fingers threaded together, and cupped it beneath my chin. I said, “I am. Clinty is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Is it unforgivable for me to be jealous of someone who’s dead?” Justin asked a second later, catching me by surprise.

  I said, without thinking, “No, because I’m jealous too.” He tipped his head at me, eyebrows asking me to explain. I added, “Of Aubrey. I told you I was thinking today about high school.”

  Then I felt small and petty, but Justin said, his voice so serious, “Jillian. She’s got nothing on you. Don’t get me wrong. I loved her once. Or at least, I thought I did. It’s funny how that works.”

  “That’s what Jo said about Jackie,” I said. And then, maybe just to torture my own happiness, I asked, directing my gaze out the passenger window, “Do you still miss her?”

  “No,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But I do miss high school sometimes. I miss the person I used to be, in some ways. But I’ve learned so much since then. Especially about moving on.”

  I dared to look back over at him, relief flooding me. I said, “I always hated her, you know.”

  Justin surprised me by laughing. He said, “Yeah, I got that sense the night we talked on the boat landing. Remember when you told me that she was telling everyone that I liked to get spanked?”

  I laughed then, heartily. We’d covered quite a range of emotion in the last ten minutes, and thankfully we were now back to easy laughter. I admitted, “I totally lied that day. I just wanted to shock you, or impress you, or something.”

  “I’ve never told this to anyone,” he said, and now I lifted my eyebrows at him. He went on, “That night you said that, the night Jackie and I fell off the train, I dreamed that you, little Jillian Davis, were spanking the hell out of me. So that’s what comes when you tell lies.”

  I made a disbelieving noise that was choked out by another wave of laughter.

  “It was a pretty sexual dream too, I’m not gonna lie,” Justin went on, still laughing too. He added, “I felt all guilty and shit, like I’d cheated on Aubrey. How ironic, huh? And then when I saw you at prom that’s all I could think about.”

  “That’s why you were so weird that night,” I said. A little life mystery solved. I asked, “Was it my bare hand or with an implement of some kind?”

  He answered so quickly I knew he wasn’t pulling my leg, saying, “Some little strap thing. And then…oh my God, Jilly…then you pushed me to my back and straddled me and I woke up before the best part. God, I can’t believe I just told you that.”

  “Wow,” I marveled. “We had a whole subconscious thing going on even back then.”

  “Yeah we did,” he agreed. “But you can’t tell anyone about the whole spanking thing.”

  “I’m not promising,” I said. “And if you piss me off, I know just how to punish you.”

  “I’m holding you to that, you little sweet thing,” he said.

  We ate dinner on the deck of the cozy Italian restaurant, huge plates of pasta, talking comfortably and laughing. I stole meatballs from his plate, while he helped himself to my mushrooms and bread crusts; I liked to pull out the soft white middle of ciabatta bread, leaving the outer shell, and Justin grabbed these without asking permission, swirling them through the olive oil. When it was time for dessert, he reminded me, “Ice cream at my house.”

  We left the restaurant under a sky that was a backdrop for a profusion of glittering stars. Just outside the truck, Justin curved his arms around me from behind, letting me lean back against him to study the heavens for a moment. He felt so secure and strong behind me and I curled my fingers through his and held tight. He bent and tipped his chin against my temple.

  “Thanks for dinner,” I told him.

  He kissed my cheek and whispered, “Thanks for coming.”

  I whispered back, “Well, I haven’t yet, but I was hoping to a little later.”

  He didn’t miss a beat, replying, “More than once, if I have anything to do with it.”

  I turned in his arms just enough to nip his chin and he shivered, tightening his arms around me.

  “Let’s hurry,” I said then. “I think that ice cream is starting to melt.”

  Justin laughed and hauled me into the truck, firing it to life and driving out of the parking lot. He teased, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  “Put your hand on me,” I told him, and he cupped his fingers around my thigh and slipped his palm right under my skirt.

  “If you tell me you haven’t been wearing panties the entire time, you’re in trouble,” he said, sounding a little strangled. “I will pull over and risk indecent exposure charges right here.” His fingers skimmed to the edge of my panties and he breathed out a little. “God, these are so tiny.”

  My throat was tight and I was already so wet and ready for him, and we still had to drive miles back home. I played with the idea of straddling him as he drove, but even in the growing red haze clouding my sensibilities, I knew that was too dangerous to risk.

  “Slip these down, right now,” he commanded.

  I lifted my hips and slipped them down my legs, and then ran my palms softly back up, easing the edge of my skirt even higher. My hands were shaking a little, my heart crashing against my ribs.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Justin said with passion.

  I couldn’t help but smile at that and said, “You should be a poet.”

  He laughed then too, shaking his head, his hand again gliding up my thigh. He said, “Here’s a poem for you: There once was a woman named Jillian…”

  His fingers reached the vee of my parted legs and I gasped a little, but said, “Go on.”

  He angled me a blazing hot look. “Whose skin was the softest in all of creation.”

  “That doesn’t…rhyme,” I managed to say.

  “And who drives me absolutely insanely crazy,” he added, stroking with conviction now. I curled my fingers again around the edge of the seat, my head tipped back.

  “Oh my God, Justin…”

  “Shit, I’m gonna drive off the road,” he said.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged.

  “Honey, I’m just getting started,” he told me.

  In his driveway, he had barely put his truck in park before I was in his arms, my panties abandoned on the floor. Justin practically growled into my neck, curling me across his lap, not breaking our kiss as he opened the door, climbed out with me in his arms, and then kicked it shut behind him.

  “What will the neighbors think?” I murmured against his lips, my hands in his hair.

  “I don’t give a damn,” he said back, swinging open the front door and also kicking that shut behind us.

  Once inside he carried me through his living room, up a flight of steps and then to the second door on the right. I had a fleeting glimpse of his bed before I was on my back upon it, tearing off his shirt, his jeans, his boxers. I couldn’t believe the feelings he called forth from me, but they were so right. I ordered, “Hurry,” as he went to his knees before me on the mattress. I was too impatient to take my dress off and instead slipped up my skirt, naked and so ready beneath it.

  His eyes were onyx in the dim light, spear points of desire. He was at once inside me, bracing above me and thrusting deep, taking my chin between his teeth before ravaging my mouth. I moaned and returned kiss for kiss as our bodies crashed together. I felt myself tighten around him with the first few strokes, gasping out his name and clinging to him. Minutes later he groaned and came hard, his mouth open on my left shoulder. He bit down lightly before cuddling me close
and rolling us to the side. From a few inches away, our bodies still joined below, he grinned into my eyes and whispered, “Sorry, you had me so revved up in the truck.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I scolded. “That was just what I needed.”

  “I want you so much,” he told me, his hands spread like starfish on my back, so warm and strong. “In case you didn’t notice that. But I don’t want you to think that’s all I want from you.”

  I stroked his gorgeous thick hair like a lazy mama kitty, from scalp to its full length, over and over. I said, “I don’t think that. And besides, I want you so much it’s all I can think about.”

  “Good,” he added, sounding slightly smug. And then, as I slipped my hands from his hair to his neck, “Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

  I smiled sleepily and resumed my ministrations; a little later he shifted to one elbow and looked down at me, tracing gently along the edge of my face. He said, “Here’s what I want to do right now. I want to get us bowls of ice cream and then take a bath. How’s that for the second half of a first date? And then,” and his free hand was busy now, cupping my right breast, stroking over my waist, coming to rest on my belly, fingers angled toward my pelvis, “there’s a certain sweet little spot on you that I haven’t kissed yet.”

  I reached and slid my palms across his lower back, gliding over his ass and pulling him over me, tighter into my body. I whispered, “What spot is that?”

  “I’ll give you a hint,” he said, kissing my lips so sensually that I quivered beneath him.

  “Another poem?” I teased against his mouth, shivering in pleasure, loving how he felt inside of me.

  Justin eased back and went on, “I would climb the highest mountain, swim the most shark-infested ocean, walk the hottest, sandiest desert…barefoot…”

  “You should write some of this down, seriously,” I told him. He was moving within me, but gently, my hands guiding him, pulling him tight with each stroke.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, holding himself deeply, and then added, “Hike through a swamp full of alligators…” he groaned as I arched against him, before curving his body back over mine, kissing the corner of my lips. After a moment he added, softly, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”

  An hour later we were up to our shoulders in bubbles, in his deep claw-foot tub. Justin was behind me, my back neatly against his chest in the slippery, honeysuckle-scented water.

  “Here, let me help you,” he offered, again soaping my breasts in circles, just under the water.

  I giggled and squirmed at his tickling touch. He cupped them both in his strong hands, biting the side of my damp neck and making me squeak. I teased, “I don’t know what’s more surprising, that you have bubble bath or that it smells like flowers.”

  Justin bit me again, then licked the spot and said, “It was from Liz. The kids picked it out for me.”

  “Well that’s sweet,” I murmured, pressing against his hands, twitching my shoulders a little in an invitation for him to continue stroking me. He did at once, thumbs gliding over my nipples.

  “‘Sweet’ is my middle name,” he said against my neck, and I shivered at the way his voice seemed to vibrate in my belly.

  “I thought it was Daniel,” I said, scooping handfuls of bubbles and then spreading them on the surface of the water.

  “Ma wanted to call me ‘J.D.’ Isn’t that funny?”

  I giggled again, imagining that. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Jillian Rae,” he added, again pressing soft, hot kisses along the top of my shoulder.

  “That gives me the shivers,” I told him, shivering delightedly.

  “I have a few other things in mind too, sweet, sexy, scrumptious woman. If you’ll join me.”

  We dried each other fast, still damp and practically steaming as he swept me back into the bedroom.

  ***

  Though my son was fifteen years old, and thoroughly capable of tucking himself in, I still felt slightly guilty as I crept into my apartment at sometime after three in the morning. Justin walked me up the steps that climbed the outside of the garage and we’d spent lovely, lingering minutes kissing good-night. I couldn’t let go of him; when at last he tipped his forehead against mine and said, “I better let you get to bed,” I shook my head wordlessly.

  His dark eyes smiled into mine and he kissed me one last time, a single soft touch of his lips against my mouth.

  “Thank you for the date,” I told him softly, my hands still on his shoulders, his on my waist.

  “You’re most welcome,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning, Jills.”

  I wanted to invite him in so we could wake up together, but certainly couldn’t give in to that urge with my son in the same space. At last I conceded, “In the morning, then.”

  Justin took my right hand and kissed it, first the back and then my palm, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them everything inside of me surged forward, towards him, wanting him and loving him with more force than I’d even realized possible. I drew in a breath and bit back the words I was longing to say; he would have to tell me first, I would have it that way. It was there in his eyes, strong and true, and my heart crashed against my ribs.

  “In the morning,” he promised, and then turned and headed back down to his truck in the parking lot. I leaned over my small railing and watched. Again, he turned back and blew me a kiss before driving away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  June & July, 2003

  The next evening I worked dinner for Mom, knowing I couldn’t get out of it every night, despite my desire to shirk all duties and run away with Justin. Anywhere, I didn’t care, as long as we could spend the rest of our days and nights braided together in our love. He’d come in for coffee with Dodge in the morning and was hardly up the porch steps before I’d banged out the screen door and he’d caught me in his arms for a hug. Dodge, in his son’s wake, stopped and watched us for a moment, grinning as much as I’m sure the womenfolk were from inside the café, where we were clearly framed in the big front windows. But I didn’t care.

  “High time,” Dodge said as our kiss continued and he cleared his throat in mock sternness and then finally skirted us, making his way inside. He added again, “High time.”

  Justin drew back, keeping me in his arms, and he looked so happy that a breath caught in my throat. He looked gorgeous, and smiley, and like himself. Like the Justin of old. Except that now he was my boyfriend, all mine, and my answering smile could have lit up the entire solar system. Just because I could I curled my fingers into his thick hair and roughed it up a little.

  He said, “Morning, tomboy.”

  “Morning,” I returned. “I missed you a little bit.”

  “Just a little?” he teased.

  “Maybe a lot,” I murmured, clinging to him. “I wanted ice cream for breakfast.”

  “God, me too,” he said with feeling, grinning at me, pulling me close for one more kiss.

  ***

  I was moony the rest of the day. Intensely so. I found myself gazing into space. Out over the lake, envisioning Justin’s dark eyes. Thinking about what we’d discussed. Thinking about the way we’d eaten ice cream in his bed. He had bought caramel with pecans, which he knew was my favorite, despite all his teasing about chocolate. He knew me so well. I stopped about a thousand times to lean in and smell my lilacs, which Justin had picked for me and were now arranged in a tall glass vase on the counter, spilling over and scenting the air with their delicate, delicious fragrance.

  “So, how’s my little sis today?” Joelle asked at one point. Her tone indicated that she had a pretty damn good idea what I’d spent half the night doing. Besides that, her own glow was emanating at around ten thousand kilowatts, only superseded by Bly’s. He couldn’t keep his eyes from her. The two of them were about as subtle as a field of fireflies at dusk.

  I only smiled in return, but that was enough for Jo’s eyebrows to lift and she shook her head.

  “
He must have gotten past the thinking you were ‘taking pity’ on him bullshit,” she murmured, hooking her arm around my waist for a moment. And then, “Any word on the new arrival?”

  The Notion had struck me the night before last, when Jo and I had fallen asleep on the couch. Suddenly I’d known, with that bone-deep sense that had never yet been wrong, that someone was coming. I didn’t know who, or when, just that someone was. It was an inexact science, for lack of a better term.

  “No, nothing new,” I said. “And Justin is…he’s…”

  “Why Miz Jilly, I do believe you’re blushin’,” Jo teased, doing her best southern belle.

  I felt my face flame even hotter and busied myself with wiping down a table.

  “Wow,” she said. “Way to go, Justin.”

  ***

  Justin came out around eight, just as I was getting done with dinner rush; he’d known I had to work. He sat and had a beer with Gran while I flew home to shower and change. This time I wore a short white sundress and my favorite red flip-flops, again leaving my hair soft and dabbing vanilla-scented perfume on my collarbone and between my breasts. When I reentered the café he was sitting between my grandmother and my son, angled so that he could listen to Clinty going on about something, with Gran looking on, a smile lingering around her mouth. Tish was leaning over the counter on the far side.

  At my entrance, Justin turned and angled a grin over his shoulder. Clint was still chattering, commanding Justin’s attention, but Tish said, “Hi, Aunt Jilly! So, Justin’s your boyfriend now?”

  The Queen of Discreet, that one. But I loved that she was blunt; Tish would never hide something from her mother…not like Camille. I loved all three of my nieces equally, but worried more about Milla than the other two. She was secretive, closed off somehow, and I wasn’t yet sure how to help her. And if any of Jo’s girls were observant enough to catch on to their mother’s nocturnal activities, it would for sure be Milla.

  “He sure is,” Justin answered Tish. I reached them and rubbed my hand over Clinty’s back, then messed up his hair before twining my arms around Justin’s broad shoulders, just behind him, and kissing his cheek.