by Tory Jane
“Hey.” I cling to him. “We’re exhausted. I told you we’ve been busy.”
“Everyone in town must be wearing Bella Boutique’s finest.”
He glances over to Cecelia, who looks dreamy-eyed as she stares at us. “Hey, Cecelia. Do you remember me? I'm Jack Cliff. Our parents are friends. It’s good to see you. Belle has been grateful for you this year.”
She’s flustered and blushing. “It’s nice to see you, Jack.”
“Thank you, Cecelia. Why don't you go ahead and take off? Enjoy the next day and a half. Have a Merry Christmas. The craziness will begin again on the 26th. Wait until you witness women lose their minds over what to wear for New Years’ festivities. We’ll have to find something fun for you, also.”
“Really?” she squeaks. “Thank you. I'd love it if you styled me. My friends will be jealous.” She packs up her things, stealing glances at Jack. “Merry Christmas to both of you.”
I feel Jack’s energy. I can sense Jack is about to pounce. As Cecelia leaves, I lock the door behind her and pull the window shade closed.
Jack tugs me in front of the three-way mirror. “I’ve been thinking about this since the first night I came in here. Do you have a bench?”
I point to one in the corner, and he drags it over. What does he have in mind?
He slides down my stretchy, short knit skirt and whips my flowy tunic up over my head. I'm standing in front of the mirror in thigh high, heeled boots, and black lacy lingerie. I start to remove the boots.
“Hell, no. Leave them on. You look hot. I want you just like that.” He can’t remove his clothes quickly enough. In thirty seconds, he’s standing before me, gloriously nude. His body is like chiseled marble. A statue of a Roman God, without the olive leaf. Not that an olive leaf would cover him.
My back is to the mirrors, and he can view me from all angles. He crouches, runs his hands up my boots, my thighs, and then grabs my ass. He massages me, pressing me up against him, and kisses my shoulders and neck. I know he's watching it all in the mirror.
I’ve never seen this side of him. Playful, daring, adventurous. I am enjoying it immensely. I was aroused from the moment he removed my clothes.
He sits on the bench facing the mirrors and turns me toward him. He pulls my panties to the side and places his entire mouth on me. He twirls me around again and has me bend over, and I feel his mouth everywhere. He must be able to watch from this angle better.
If he wants to watch, I will give him a show. I swivel my hips and dance for him, grinding myself on his face. His mouth is heaven. I've had my share of sexual experiences, but no one is Jack. His enthusiasm alone wins him the gold medal.
“I love it when you shake that tight little ass.” He slides his fingers inside of me. As I shake and dance, his fingers rub me, searching for and then stimulating my G spot, and I'm about to collapse.
I look down and notice he has his other hand wrapped around himself, stroking and pumping intently. I groan. “You’ve never shown me before. I love to watch you.” His uninhibited show of desire causes me to lose it, and I immediately come around his fingers.
I whip around and kneel in front of him. I slowly take him in my mouth, and he watches from all angles. He grabs my hair and holds it back to give himself a clear view. He's watching himself thrust himself into my mouth and moaning. I love how verbal he is. It arouses me like no one else.
I lick and suck as I stare up into his eyes.
His eyes roll back. He pulls out before he loses control. He wants something else. “Face the mirror, sit on my lap.” He shoves my panties aside, and I slide down on him. From this angle, I take him deep, and he growls as I squeal. He grabs my hips and lifts me up and down, watching himself enter me in the mirrors. “Touch yourself, Bella. Let me watch you get yourself off as I make love to you.”
I arch my back dramatically and rest my head on his shoulder. My hair is flowing down his back. I tilt my pelvis and press it forward. I am entirely exposed to him, and not self-conscious. I cup myself and grind my palm against my vulva, just the way I like it. He speeds up. I don't need to move my hand because he's driving me against my hand. I watch his face, his hands, and cock moving like a piston inside me. With my other hand, I play with my breasts, exposing my nipples. He's going to lose it any minute, and I'm right there with him. With every thrust, he pops his hips, putting pressure on my G spot. I'm crying out with pleasure, and he's moaning and grunting. We are loud.
I scream out his name and start shuddering. As I’m riding the wave, he bends me in half, my hands on the floor, and pumps into me hard and fast. Within minutes, he too is jerking, trembling, and calling my name repeatedly.
He lifts me and holds me tightly, wrapping his body around mind. We lock eyes in the mirror, and I see that we are gorgeous together.
Still looking at me in the mirror, he whispers in my ear, “I love you so much. You are my life.”
I lift my arms and hug him around the neck. Still stretched out, I expose my body to him. I mouth to him in the mirror. “I love you more than anything in this world. I want to be your wife.”
“Say that out loud. Did you just say what I think you said? Say it, Belle.”
I turn my head to him and speaking clearly, repeat the words.
He lifts me up and spins me around. I encircle his waist with my legs.
He’s glowing. “You’ll marry me?”
I grin and nod my head emphatically.
“Mrs. Cliff.”
“Um, I think that's Mrs. Tucker Cliff.”
“Whatever you want. Hell, I'll become Mr. Tucker if you'll be my wife. Not only was that the hottest sex ever, but you've also now made me the happiest man alive.
“Get dressed, woman. I can’t wait to show you the project I’ve started. Hurry up.”
“Give me a minute to clean up.”
“I’ll join you and help.” He winks at me.
***
Parked in front of the shop is an enormous truck. He looks like a proud boy with a new toy.
“This is yours? You drive this monster now. How do you manage it downtown?” Downtown Charleston is a maze of narrow, one-way streets and tourists.
He laughs, “Very carefully.” He walks me to the passenger side and helps me climb up into the cab. “Isn’t it awesome?”
I look in the backseat, and there is a car seat installed and a mobile hanging above it. The truck cab is wide enough to fit three car seats. Jack drives a big, studly truck tricked out with baby gear. At least I know he's not overcompensating for anything.
“Most of the time, I drive my other car. It’s nearly impossible to find parking downtown for this beauty. But the truck seemed appropriate for this trip.”
Riding in the truck is cozy and comfortable. I'm warm and drowsy from work and our playtime. I nod off and wake with a kiss on the lips.
“Bella, we’re here.”
I blink and try to focus. Parked in a makeshift gravel driveway, before us is an enormous lot on deep water. It’s gorgeous, surrounded by massive Live Oak trees.
He jumps out and runs around to my side to lift me out. Excited, he's bouncing on his toes.
“Where are we, Jack?”
“Johns Island. Isn’t it fantastic?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
He takes my hand and leads me down a path and hidden behind the Live Oaks, is the foundation and framework for an enormous house. So much for living simply.
He's framed it, so the front of the house faces the water. It has a long deep porch that winds around the house. From the bones alone, I know it will be majestic.
“We’ll have a pathway from the porch to a dock and fishing pier. It's deep water here. We built the foundation up for flood protection. I can't believe I forgot to bring the house plans. I designed it myself. All eco-friendly. Solar panels on the roof. Reclaimed wood for the floors, moldings, and staircases. The windows will all be hurricane proof with metal roll-up shutters.
“Walk around back with
me. The kitchen will be in the back of the house and lead out onto a screened in porch. Remember how awful the mosquitoes were at the cabin? Then an open deck will lead out to….”
I exclaim, “Garden plots.”
He beams at me. “Yes. Look at this dirt. That’s not all. Come on.” Beyond the garden plots is the framework for a greenhouse.
“You designed a greenhouse for me?” Now I’m bouncing around.
“Yes, all for my chic, bohemian farm girl.”
“You planned this out for us? When did you start?”
He looks down, and shyly confesses, “In August, before I came back.”
“But we weren’t together. Neither of us knew if we’d be together.”
He takes my hand. “I told you. I never gave up hope.”
“I can't believe this. You did all of this for us? Based solely on hope?” I choke up.
It finally sinks in. Jack has been telling me the truth the whole time. He never gave up on us being together.
I look up at him in awe. “You never gave up? You love me?”
He sees the look in my eyes and holds me. “Ah, she finally understands.
“Give up on you? On us? Never. This is all for you, for us, for our children. Besides,” he chuckles, “the worst case scenario was that you’d kick me to the curb and I’d sell it for a few million.”
“How long have you been working with Ben?”
“Um, he started the framework and foundation in October?”
“October. Oh, Wallace Shaw. You have some explaining to do. I can’t believe she kept this a secret. What a sneaky thing.
“Jack, just how rich are you?”
He picks me up, laughing and twirling me. “Belle, we are very rich.
“Merry Christmas, Annabelle.”
“Well, the socks and underwear I got you are going to be quite a disappointment, now,” I say wryly.
I'm in shock. I love it, but again it feels like Jack is pushing too hard. My head is screaming, “Slow down, you're freaking me out.”
I must look conflicted because he puts me down and gives me space. “I’m moving too quickly again, aren’t I? Are you freaking out?”
“Jack, I love it. It's gorgeous, and I can tell it is going to be a work of art. The past few days have been a lot to take in. I'm feeling overwhelmed. Yes, maybe a little freaked out. You've been gone a long time. Now, in three weeks, you've planned my life for me. A child, or children, a house, moving, and dealing with our pasts.”
He furrows his brow. “You seem to be right most of the time these days.” he jests. “I know it’s a lot. By asking you to be with me, I’m asking you to accept a package deal. That’s not fair. It is a lot for you to process. You need time to catch up to me.
“The good news? It’s going to be months before this project is finished and I want you to be a part of every decision. Would that be okay?
“Yes, that’s fair, as long as you promise that you won’t propose to me tomorrow in front of the entire family.”
I see a shadow pass over his eyes, and then he smiles carefully. “Of course not. Tomorrow is going to be a big enough day. You meet Charlie tomorrow. I only hope you don’t run from me, from us.”
Shit. He was planning to propose tomorrow. Too soon. I’ve hurt his feelings.
I crawl into his arms and clutch on to him. “I’m sorry. I love you, Jack. I want to marry you. If you had proposed, I probably would have said yes. I think we need to make tomorrow about Charlie. Do you understand?”
He looks down at me with tears in his eyes. “I do understand. Don’t think I’m not going to hold you to every word you said. We will be together, Belle.”
***
On Christmas Eve, we all attend Midnight Mass at St. Michael's. We meet at my parents' house and walk up Meeting Street—our parents, Julia and Peter, Wallace, Ben, and the kids. This year, Jack is finally joining us. For the first time in five years, we are all reunited. An aura of love and joy surrounds us and connects us.
Jack's parents are all over me. His father, Frasier Cliff, a man I've always known to be a reticent, scholarly lawyer, is exuberant. Being a grandfather has changed him. He pulls me into his arms, and I hug him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Cliff.”
He squeezes me. “None of that, young lady. Frasier. You're family. If you're going to call Allison ‘Mom', then I had better be ‘Dad.' We're thrilled for you both. We always knew you'd be together, ever since you were kids.
“I hear he showed you the property on Johns Island? It's stunning, isn't it? Wait until you see the other projects on which he and Ben are working.”
Other projects? What else does Jack have up his sleeve?
I pull Wallace aside. “I hear you’ve been keeping secrets from me?”
She doesn't have the decency to look ashamed. She's grinning. “I wanted to tell you. But he had to be the one to make a move.”
“Sneaky girl.” I poke her and she giggles.
“Do you love it?”
“Wallace. I’m in shock. He’s revealed so much information in the last few days my head is swimming. I’m freaking out. Of course, I want to be with him, it’s a lot to absorb though. I meet Charlie tomorrow. His parents are asking me to call them mom and dad. He’s building a freaking estate for us. He wants me to marry him. I’m overwhelmed. I’m scared.”
“Belle, do not run. I can see it in your eyes. Do not pull that shit.” Her voice is a fierce whisper.
“I'm trying, Wallace. I don't want to, and yet I am freaking out. This is everything I ever wanted. I never expected it would happen all at once.”
Julia sneaks up and links her arm through mine. “What are you girls whispering about?”
“Belle is freaking out. I’m trying to convince her not to run.”
“Oh, honey. I understand. Believe me. When all of your dreams come true at the same time, it's overwhelming. Jack is pushing hard. He needs to slow down and give you time to breathe.”
“Exactly. I know you understand, Julia. Everything happened for you in a month.”
“Remember when I walked into Peter’s exhibit? It felt like he’d created a shrine to our relationship for everyone to see. It was too much. For all of those people to see our relationship on display at the same time I did? Sometimes you need to process it all in private.”
My eyes are wide open, scared. Julia understands.
“It's going to okay, Belle. Wallace is right. You cannot run from this. Promise us if it gets overwhelming, you'll come to us and not do anything foolish.”
Wallace grabs my other hand. “Yes. You’ve come so far, Belle. You’re ready. You can do this.”
We enter the church and find two pews for our crowd. Jack slides in next to me and holds my hand gently. “Breathe, Bella. I have you. We are surrounded by love and support.”
I lean into him and find solace and peace in the service.
Christmas Day
I wake at 7:00 a.m. after a night of tossing and turning. I am nervous, restless, scared, and excited. I try to focus on the advice Wallace and Julia gave last night.
I stumble into my kitchenette and make coffee. A large pot of coffee. I stand, strumming my fingers on the counter, waiting for it to brew. I pause it halfway through the brew cycle, pour myself a cup, and then restart it. I add frothed milk and a hefty shot of cinnamon whiskey. It's Christmas. Maybe I should have had a mimosa. No, my mother will have plenty of those. I can't be drunk when I meet the kid.
I stand at the counter for half an hour in my Christmas pajamas and drink my coffee with whiskey, and smoke. I'm starting to relax. I wish I could stay in my pajamas all day like when I was a kid.
I panic. What do I wear today? I forgot to ask Wallace. Jack said Charlie would like my curls and my bracelets. Can I throw on a flowy dress and an armful of bangles? I call my mother.
“Merry Christmas, my precious Annabelle.”
“Thanks, Mama. Merry Christmas to you, too. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweeth
eart. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think I don’t know you?” I hear my mother inhale.
“Mama. Are you smoking?” I laugh and immediately feel better. My mother is nervous, too. “Daddy admitted you two sneak cigarettes. Naughty kids.”
“I may be a little nervous today, too.”
“Why are you nervous? Do you need help with anything?”
“Darling, there will be a child here. A child who may become your son and my grandson. We haven’t had a child in this house for far too long. I’m worried about you. If this is all too much for you?”
I sigh. Even my mother understands. “Mama, thank you. You understand.” I light a cigarette, too. “I’m trying to process it all. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet?”
She hesitates. “I have, but Charlie has never been here, and it hasn't been Christmas, and it hasn't been watching you meet him. You're going to love him. Jack is a wonderful father and Charlie is adorable and good-natured. He's going to love you.”
“This is going to sound silly, but what do I wear?”
She chuckles. “Be yourself, Belle. But wear something in which you can sit on the floor comfortably.”
“That makes sense. Thank you. I have something perfect.”
“Okay, darling. Come on over whenever you’re ready. I love you. Don’t be afraid. I’ll have mimosas for you.”
“You’re the best. See you soon. Love you.”
I hang up, calmer. Why am I surprised that my friends and family understand? I feel their love and support. Why did I isolate myself for so long?
***
I choose a forest green velvet tunic with black leggings and knee high riding boots. I have my signature bracelets piled up on my left arm. They jingle when I move. My hair is long and wavy, and I pin the top half back with a beautiful jeweled barrette.
I’m ready to walk to my parents’, when my phone starts to chirp with text messages from Peter, Wallace, and Julia. An excuse to delay, have another coffee.
Merry Christmas, my Bella Belle. My love. I'm excited! Our first Christmas together in far too long.
P.S. Stop worrying. I love you.
