Rocking Her Heart

by Melanie Shawn

  “Don’t worry about it, baby.” She smiled. “Just let me take care of you.”

  Again. That was not a proposition he was prepared to argue with.

  She took the condom out of its packaging and slipped it over his erection. As soon as it was secure, she straddled him again and lowered herself onto his erection, both palms flat on his chest.

  She let out a low, guttural moan and squeezed her inner walls around him, and then the moan turned to a whimper.

  He ran his hands over her belly and sides, almost as if he were trying to convince himself she was actually here and real, flesh and blood and on top of him, not just a dream he was having in the back of the bus as it rumbled through the night across Ohio, or Idaho, or Pennsylvania.

  With a sudden jolt, he realized that he hoped that wasn’t true. He’d gone from thinking that losing the band, and with it everything he’d worked to build over his entire professional life, was the worst thing in the world that could possibly happen to him. Now he realized that wasn’t the case, not hardly.

  Losing Abby would be the worst thing that could ever happen to him, and it wasn’t even a close contest.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hips up and down, slowly at first and then with building speed. He slid his hands the rest of the way up her torso and cupped her breasts, flicking her nipples with his thumbs as she rode him.

  It didn’t take long until he was completely filled with pleasure, at her mercy one hundred percent. The sweat that coated her skin pooled between her breasts and at her hairline, forming into droplets that fell down and mingled with the sweat that coated his. He took this as just one more way that they were mingling and becoming one, both body and soul.

  Her eyes popped open, then, and she leaned down close to him. “Are you ready?” she gasped in his ear, and he nodded decisively. Hell, he’d been ready for a while, he’d been holding back for her sake. All he’d have to do was relax his control the tiniest bit and his release would take hold.

  She straightened and threw her head back, thrusting her chest forward, and squeezed her inner muscles around him tight. Her orgasm rocked through her and pushed him over the edge.

  He emptied himself into his condom, but stared at her over him as he did, imagining that he was shooting his seed straight into her.

  Fuck. Was he thinking about making a baby with Abby? Of settling down with her, here, in Valentine Bay?

  It was true. As soon as he’d adopted a more Buddhist philosophy of letting go of expectations, of not clinging to what he’d had simply because he thought he was supposed to or that was what he was used to, it opened up his mind – and, most importantly, his heart – to the possibility of what he was actually meant for. And in that moment, there was not even a shred of doubt in him. Abby was his destiny. He wasn’t sure about much, never had been, but he was sure as fuck about that.

  She collapsed onto his chest after both of them had exhausted their climaxes and they lay there for a long time, the sweat on their skin mingling and drying, and their breath slowing together until they were breathing in perfect, shallow rhythm together.

  He idly traced whimsical patterns on her bare shoulders with his fingertips, and played with her hair, and just enjoyed living in the moment and being as close to perfectly happy as he had ever been in his life.

  Finally, Abby looked up at him, her eyes serious as she studied his face. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with purpose.

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Did you mean it when you said you wouldn’t trade what’s happening between us for the band?”

  He kissed her. “I wouldn’t say something I didn’t mean. Not to you.”

  A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Good to know. Even if you’re a bullshit artist, I’m not your target audience.”

  He laughed. “Hey. I’m trying to become a better person. I’m not there yet.”

  The wispy, barely-there smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin. “Fair enough. But here’s the main thing – do you still feel that way?”

  He sat up and pulled her to him, doing his best to hold her so close that she’d never doubt the next thing that he said to her. “Abby, not only would I not trade the band for you; I wouldn’t trade anything for you. Ever. I’m not giving you up. So, you’d better get used to me, because I’m gonna be around for a while.”

  She pulled back, the tears in her eyes somehow not contradicting the grin on her lips. “I think I can get used to that idea.”

  Chapter 12

  Jet

  Jet turned off his car and stared out at the flat, grey expanse of ocean stretching out in front of him. This overlook had always been a place that he’d come to when he needed to think, stretching all the way back to high school. As soon as he’d gotten his driver’s license, it had become part of his regular stomping ground.

  Most people think that the number one thing that a kid with a brand-new license wants is freedom. And, sure, he’d wanted – and gotten – a big chunk of that.

  But, no. Coming from his small, loud house filled with brothers, and already feeling the pull of the songwriting muse, the number one thing he’d craved was solitude.

  He’d seen his car as a place that he could finally take a deep breath. His calm oasis away from the crazy chaos that was most of his life. Hell, the fact that it was mobile was just a huge fucking bonus!

  He’d been drawn to this overlook for the same reason most people steered clear of it: it was difficult to access. It wasn’t on the side of any major road or highway. It wasn’t on the way from anywhere to anywhere. It was the destination in and of itself, and it took work to take advantage of it.

  It lay at the end of a long, winding road that required almost thirty minutes of slow, careful driving. Far from making Jet like the place less, though, that actually made him like it more. He appreciated things that didn’t come easy. Earning something made it twice as sweet.

  Sitting in his car, back in this favorite place, he had to shake his head. He was thinking of a personality trait of his that didn’t even exist anymore. How long had it been since he’d had to work at something in the first place, let alone enjoyed and appreciated the experience?

  Way too fucking long.

  He just hoped that everything good in his character hadn’t been completely destroyed over these years of boozing and partying. He wanted to get back to himself. He wanted to regain the man that his parents had raised.

  He wanted to become a man that was worthy of Abby Baxter. And that would be no easy task.

  Suddenly the car felt claustrophobic, and he jumped out, slamming the door behind him and walking to the edge of the clearing to get a little distance. The cold air bit his skin like the stings of a thousand bees but he didn’t mind. In fact, he liked it. It gave him a nice dose of reality.

  He knew for sure, in that moment, that he’d never be able to do this alone. As much as he wanted to believe in the magic of his mother’s voice’s one-woman intervention in his head – and he did, and as much as he wanted to believe in the magic of Abby’s presence back in his life – and he did…he needed help.

  He didn’t know from where, and he didn’t know from who. But he was sure he needed help.

  Chapter 13

  Abby

  “Here you go. And have a nice night!”

  Abby replaced her ladle in one of the array of slow cookers she’d laid out at her Mistletoe Fest booth, keeping the batches of mulled wine that she’d crafted especially for the occasion warm.

  She hoped that her supply would last through the evening. She’d seriously underestimated the amount of people that would want to try some.

  Of course, since the chill in the air bit deep, she supposed she should’ve figured that any drink that combined both warmth and alcohol would probably be a big hit.

  She even had a few batches of warm apple cider for the kids, but that wasn’t flying off her shelves nearly as fast. Not when there were so m
any other booths selling decadent varieties of hot cocoa.

  She looked up to see who was next in line and saw Gen and Ella there, exchanging glances and giggles like seventh graders whose crushes had just winked at them.

  Abby laughed. The merriment was contagious. “Hey, ladies. What’s so funny?”

  “We came to take over for you,” Ella said.

  “Yeah, you’re needed up by the stage. The presentations are about to start,” Gen added.

  “What? Why would I be needed for the presentations? I’m not part of the program.”

  “They’re doing a surprise bit. I roped Gavin into it, and I said you’d participate, too,” Gen explained.

  “If Gavin’s participating, why don’t you do it? You all are dating. That would make way more sense.”

  “It’s not that kind of thing,” Ella said.

  Abby wrinkled her brow. This was starting to feel like the kind of conversation she had in her dreams sometimes, where a lot of words were spoken but not a whole lot of sense was made. “Well, what kind of thing is it?”

  Gen rolled her eyes and stepped around the folding table that formed the front of Abby’s booth. She grabbed her arm and pulled her out and toward the stage, calling back to Ella over her shoulder, “Mind the booth, Ell!”

  “Got it!” Ella replied, her voice sailing over the heads of the crowd that was already in between them as she and Gen made progress across the town square.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” Abby said, shaking her arm free.

  The freedom was short-lived, however, because Gen just grabbed it again in her viselike grip and they continued to make their way up toward the portable platform set up at the southeast corner of the courtyard.

  “Can’t you just relax and go with the flow?”

  Abby barked out a laugh. “Could you, if the situation was reversed?”

  “Hell, no. But that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  Gen grinned. “That the situations aren’t reversed.”

  By that time, they’d reached the stage, and Abby lost the will to argue because, standing there right next to Gavin, was Jet. She knew it made her wishy-washy, but if Jet was involved in whatever this was, she’d go along with it. Any excuse to spend time with him.

  She didn’t love what that said about her independent spirit, but she decided not to think about it too deeply, but rather just go with the flow and enjoy it for as long as he was around.

  Gen finally let go of her arm and told the guys, “Okay. Here she is. She was a gigantic pain in the ass about it, but here she is.”

  Abby smiled at Jet. “You got roped into this, too, huh?”

  Jet returned her smile, and suddenly the night didn’t feel so cold anymore. “What exactly is it we’ve gotten roped into?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You don’t know either?”

  “Me, either,” Gavin added.

  Abby turned around to ask Gen for more clarification, but she saw that her friend was gone. “Benedict Arnold,” she mumbled.

  Just then, a magnified version of Gen’s voice rang out over the crowded square. “Good evening, everybody! Welcome to the first annual Valentine Bay Mistletoe Fest! The crowd here tonight has busted all of our attendance projections, which makes this a rousing success. Give yourselves a hand!”

  Gen gave the crowd time to cheer before continuing. “We have some fun presentations for you tonight. Hopefully some things that will keep you laughing. First up, I’d like to welcome my man to the stage, someone you all know. Gavin Valentine!”

  The crowd clapped and cheered as Gavin made his way up to the stage. His shoulders had a tense set to them and he moved slowly, only giving the crowd the tiniest nudge of his chin to even acknowledge the fact that he knew he was in front of one.

  Gen pointed at the first of three stools and he climbed up and took a seat on it.

  “Next, I’d like to welcome to the stage one of my very best friends, and the purveyor of the best mulled wine most of us have ever tasted. Let’s be honest, the only mulled wine most of us have ever tasted. But, still. The best. Abby Baxter!”

  Abby scurried up the steps at the side of the platform and then walked across the stage, giving the crowd a small and embarrassed wave as she went. She was nervous as hell. She didn’t even know what she was going to be called on to do up here!

  Gen continued. “Finally. Last but not least, we have the man that you all know as a huge rock star, and I know as my boyfriend’s annoying brother. Jet Valentine!”

  The crowd erupted into such a roar as Jet crossed the stage in confident strides, waving to the audience with both hands in the air, that it actually startled Abby and caused her to draw her head back a few inches. She wasn’t used to that kind of energy, or attention.

  Jet, on the other hand, looked like he was in his natural setting for the first time since he’d been back. He was clearly made to live in the roar of the crowd. He was a fish, and cheers were his water.

  The other thing she noticed as Jet crossed the stage was the fact that about half of the audience pulled cell phones out of their pockets and started recording.

  Great. So whatever humiliation she was about to be made to suffer was going to be preserved for posterity. And probably YouTube.

  Jet climbed up on the last remaining empty stool. Abby cocked her head to the side as she looked at him. “How can you be so casual about this when you don’t even know what we’re gonna have to do?”

  He gave her a carefree, sideways grin. “No matter what it is, I can guarantee you that it won’t be the biggest fool I’ve ever made of myself on stage. Or on camera. I’m cool with it.”

  That only made Abby’s gut churn more. The same thing could definitely not be said for her.

  Gen walked over to the three of them and handed them each a stack of cards, each about the size of a sheet of paper, and then gave them each an oversized permanent marker.

  She stepped back to the microphone and said, “All right, then! We’re going to start the festivities off with a little game. It’s called ‘Who Knows You Better?’ The competitors are Abby and Gavin. I’m going to be asking a series of questions about Jet and his life. All three participants will write down their answers on the cards they hold in front of them. No peeking!

  “Then, the answers will be revealed at the same time and we will see who knows Jet Valentine better – his friend, and I have to say it, rival in high school, Abby… Or his own brother.”

  Gavin leaned over to speak to Abby and Jet, raising his voice slightly over the sound of the crowd. “I’ll tell you right now,” he said in his normal stoic monotone, “Abby’s going to win. I care about you, Jet, but I don’t bother to crowd my brain with details about you.”

  Jet laughed. “Aww, bro. That just might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  Abby sat up straighter, gripping the pen so tightly that her knuckles grew white with the pressure.

  She didn’t want to give Jet the wrong idea, thinking that she’d paid attention to every detail about him she’d learned during the entire time that they’d known each other, and that those details were so important to her that she’d committed them to memory… Okay, maybe the problem was that she didn’t want to give him the right impression.

  But, she could feel the competitive spirit rising in her gut. She could already see how this was going to play out. If she knew the answer to a question, she’d have to write it down. It just wasn’t in her DNA to lose if she had the capacity to win.

  And especially not where Jet Valentine was concerned.

  Chapter 14

  Jet

  Looking at Abby, Jet knew that Gavin would be going down hard even if he had planned on trying. Abby had her “win at all costs” face on, and it made him glad that he wasn’t the one competing against her. Even in a contest of trivia about himself, he couldn’t be sure that he’d come out the winner.

  When Abby was determined to win, she
fucking won. Period.

  “Okay, folks. Let’s get this party started. First question. Who was Jet’s favorite band or artist when he was in high school?”

  An easy one. Softball question, really. He and Abby had spent long hours in school studying for academic decathlons, practicing their lines for the school plays where they were usually cast as the leads, and basically just being nerds together. She’d heard his favorite band a hundred times.

  They wrote their answers and Gen said, “Cards up!”

  He looked at her card. It read, “The Smiths.” He smiled. That’s my girl.

  He looked at his brother’s card and it said, “Himself.”

  Heh. Smartass.

  “That’s one point for Abby!” Gen declared, and Jet could see the momentary flash of satisfaction in her eyes before it was taken back over by determination.

  God, getting the chance to watch her like this – he figured that it just might be his favorite night ever.

  “Next question. What was Jet’s lowest grade in high school?”

  He grimaced as he wrote. The memory was still a sore subject. Sneaking a glance at Abby, however, he saw that she was flushed with triumph. He had to chuckle. She was still self-satisfied about beating him for that grade, all these years later.

  “Cards up!”

  Gavin’s read, “Don’t know, don’t care.” Typical.

  Abby’s read, “B+ in Mr. Krakow’s English Class, Junior Year.”

  “Another point for Abby!” Gen cried.

  Abby snatched her card back down and wrote on it furiously. Gen said, “Um, Abby? You already got the point,” but she kept writing furiously anyway.

  She held the card back in the air. It now contained a parenthetical underneath what had been written before that said, “BTW – I got an A!”

  The crowd roared with laughter and Jet couldn’t help but join them. Shit, he hated to lose as much as the next guy, but seeing Abby relish her victories so completely made the losing almost worth it.