by Ford, Julie
“John, where the hell have you two been? I haven’t heard from Jocelyn in almost two days.” The clock on the bedside-table read six thirty in the evening. John groaned.
“Well, there’s been an accident.” John explained the situation to Carol, leaving out almost every important detail about the incident, except that Josie was going to be okay.
“How could you let this happen? You know how impulsive she can be,” Carol said. “I tell you what, if she doesn’t come home in one piece you best not show your face either! If you get what I’m saying.”
Hysterical females. He didn’t have the energy for her right now. “So, how are the kids? Sampson?” After changing the subject, he listened absently as she related the events of the last few days. “Thanks again for stepping in at the last minute to watch the kids. The trip’s been good for both of us. Well, except for…”
He breathed a sigh of relief when his mother-in-law finally hung up.
John’s stomach growled as he replaced the receiver. He glanced over at Josie, who didn’t appear to have moved since he’d tucked her in that morning. Dressing quickly in jeans and a polo shirt, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair and headed out of the room.
At the front desk, he checked to see where Lanny and the others were at the moment. The clerk directed him to the Gentleman’s Club around the corner.
Once designated for men only, the Gentleman’s Club, with its mahogany walls, billiard tables, bar and cigar smoke, now accommodated both genders, but the majority of its patrons still consisted of individuals of the male persuasion. Sitting in an over-stuffed leather chair with matching ottoman, Lanny inhaled on an expensive cigar while scanning the Wall Street Journal. Across the room, Andy and Patrick played pool. The ladies were nowhere to be seen.
When John sauntered in, Lanny looked up from his paper.
Pinching the cigar dangling from his lips with his thumb and forefinger, he removed it from his mouth. “Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.” He pointed the smoldering figure of male dominance in John’s direction.
Forcing a smile, John said, “Can’t remember the last time I slept all day.” He eased himself into a similar chair, facing Lanny. He could tell by Lanny’s expression that he must look like hell.
“How’s Jocelyn doing?”
“She’s still sleeping. Whatever it was Denton gave her knocked her out pretty good.” John heard his stomach growl again. “Is there anyway to get something to eat around here? I’m about to starve.”
Lanny snapped his fingers at a passing waitress wearing a short satin skirt and a tight, sleeveless tuxedo blouse.
“Sugar, could you please bring my friend here something special to eat? He’s had a hard night.” Smiling at her slyly, he added, “Sure would appreciate it, Darlin’.”
The waitress looked over at John and smiled seductively. “We have two options, burger and fries, or steak and fries. Which do you prefer?”
“Steak’ll be fine. And beer, anything domestic with do,” John said, ignoring her subtle flirtations. As she left, he noticed her looking back to see if he was watching her.
Lanny caught the look and eyeballed John, smiling wryly.
“You sure have a way of attractin’ the beautiful women. I tell you what. Like moths to a flame,” he said, stuffing the stogy back into his mouth.
Patrick spied John and walked over. “Hey, how’s Jocelyn?” he said, looking genuinely concerned. “Thought you weren’t supposed to leave her alone.”
“She’s sleeping still. I just came down for a quick bite and to make an appearance. Then I’ll head back up. She won’t even know I was gone.” John made his explanation with a look at Patrick conveying the message “I know how to take care of my wife.”
“Jocelyn...that is one crazy woman you married, big brother,” Andy put in. “You need to keep a closer eye on that one.” He whistled through his teeth.
John tried to change the subject. “Where are all the ladies?”
“At the spa. Least that’s where I think they are.” Andy shrugged. “Who knows?”
The waitress returned with John’s food and set the plate down on the ottoman in front of him. She made eye contact one more time before sashaying off.
Slapping Patrick on the back, Andy said, “Come on, let’s finish our game so I can collect my fifty bucks. Let John eat—I guess he’s earned it after the night he’s had.” He steered a reluctant Patrick back toward the pool table.
As John ate, Lanny brought him up to speed on everything he’d missed while sleeping that day, including how they all decided to spin the bus accident and subsequent rescue into a positive sound bite for the campaign
Hero John Bearden, the judicial candidate from Alabama, saved twenty people from a burning bus, with no regard for his own safety…
John informed Lanny that it was really Josie and Denton, but Lanny waved him off, indicating that everyone would get their due. “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” Besides, it was too late. Trisha and Patrick had already written it up and put the story out on the wire. John exhaled deliberately, feeling rather bothered, but too tired to argue any further—at this point anyway.
Lanny blew smoke rings while regarding John closely as he finished up his supper. “You’re a damn lucky man. You know that, don’t you?”
John hadn’t realized just how hungry he was, but stopped eating to give Lanny his attention. “How’s that, exactly?”
“You have a great career. You’re almost a shoe-in for this election. Now you’re a hero.” Lanny bounced his brows for emphasis. “And, you have ’bout the best wife any man could ask for,” he added, giving John a stern look.
John thought about how he’d almost lost her. With his hunger now replaced by angst, he set down his fork. “Yeah, she’s pretty amazing.”
“Not many men get the chance to live out their days with a woman like Jocelyn. Beautiful, intelligent, and gutsy.” Taking a long drag from his cigar, Lanny blew out the smoke. “Oh, she’ll give you a run for your money, but there sure is somethin’ sexy ’bout a woman who won’t take any crap. You know what I’m sayin’?”
Lanny’s words kicked recollections of Josie debating at the table, playing golf, and especially her tenacity the night before, into his guilty conscious—she was all of those things and more. “Yes, sir. I believe that I do.”
Lanny stayed quiet, puffing on his cigar as John processed their conversation a moment longer.
“Plus, she plays golf. If she starts complaining that you’re spending too much time on the course, you can just bring her along if you don’t mind her kickin’ your ass occasionally.” Leaning back, Lanny placed the cigar back in his mouth and talked through the smoke. “Don’t come any better than that.”
John leaned back too, watching Lanny take another drag. “I suppose you’re right,” John said, suddenly anxious to get back to Josie. “Guess I best get on back up there and check on her. She’s bound to wake up sooner or later.”
“Be sure to take care of that girl, you hear? She’s one in a million.” Lanny smiled around his cigar, watching John finish his beer.
Using the arms of the chair for support, John pulled himself up to standing.
“Thanks again for the steak and the advice.” John smiled at his smoke-engulfed guru.
“My pleasure, young man.” Lanny saluted John as he left, before taking up his paper again.
* * * *
John bounded up the deserted staircase, taking the stairs two at a time, heading back to the room. He didn’t really know how he wanted to play it, but somehow he had to tell Josie about Trisha and then beg for her forgiveness. Lots of pleading, groveling and possibly jewelry—that should do it. Turning the corner into an empty hallway, he stopped short when someone stepped out of the shadows.
“It’s about time you showed your face—I’ve been waiting.” Trisha sauntered toward John, wearing a black, mini-wrap dress and three-inch slides.
John held up his h
and, indicating she not come any closer. “Now’s not a good time, Trisha.”
“What’s the matter, you still angry ’bout last night?” She turned her face down in a pout. “I wore your favorite.” Untying her dress, she revealed a black lacey bustier.
His opinion of her had changed considerably since the accident, but then she did fill out that sheer lace impressively. John averted his gaze. “Not tonight, Trisha. I’ve gotta get back.”
“Get back to what?” She played dumb, wrapping her dress back up. “Tonight’s the last night, and we’ve hardly had a chance to use our room with Jocelyn and Denton here.”
“Look, Trisha…” John started, then stopped. “I’ve got to get back to Jocelyn.” He wanted to tell her that their affair was over, but not here. Not now.
He started down the hall again.
Trisha stepped in front of him and put a hand to his chest. “Since when is Jocelyn a priority for you?”
He looked at her with disdain. “Look, Trisha, I don’t want to get into this right now.” A nicely-dressed older couple walked past, eyeballing them suspiciously.
John smiled awkwardly at the couple, and then lowered his voice. “I need to get back to my wife. She needs me…and…I need her.” Giving Trisha one last stern look, John removed her hand from his chest, and pushed past her.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Trisha called after him. “John!”
He never looked back.
* * * *
A dull pain pulsated through her body as Josie dreamt that an evil knight, dressed in Trisha’s black bikini, was slashing at her body and hands with an enormous gold embossed sword. She tried to move, but her feet were stuck in the soft sand of the beach, sinking deeper with every second she struggled to be free. When the images slowly started to fade, Josie’s subconscious assumed that it had to be a dream—knights didn’t wear bikinis, and Trisha was way too skinny to wield a sword of that size.
Forcing herself to consciousness, Josie woke with a start. She blinked her heavy eyes deliberately, resisting the urge to fall back to sleep. Looking for the source of her pain, she had a hard time focusing at first, but then, seeing the abrasions on her hands, Josie lay back and wondered. What happened?
Everything ached, and Josie thought that maybe she needed to change positions, but rolling onto her side proved even more uncomfortable. With the back of her hand, she pushed herself up to sitting. Through the shutters and out to the balcony she could see the sun had gone down, but the moon and stars were bright. Searching for some clarity, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and standing slowly, she slipped into her robe.
On tentative legs she shuffled outside and into the fresh air.
Josie watched the ocean roll over the sand while the night breeze brushed calmly past, cooling her face and keeping her conscious. She thought of John and felt a tinge of anger. But then, there was something about a nice shower—maybe that was just a dream too.
Her memories seemed to ebb and flow, following the rhythm of the ocean below, leaving her barely able to concentrate on any one thought for more than a second. She looked down at her palms, put a tattered hand to her throbbing ribs—
An explosion and then, nothing.
Vague flashes of recognition popped in and out with the breeze and the rustle of the palm trees. Her head started to ache, and she saw flashes of the burning bus, Denton performing CPR…then John—Josie felt irritated again.
“Look who’s up.” John’s voice floated lightly from the open doorway.
Josie looked over and saw him walking toward her, his face lit up with a smile. Now, she knew she was dreaming. John never smiled like that—at her, anyway.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders gently.
Thinking for a moment, Josie decided to answer, just in case she wasn’t dreaming. She looked back out to the ocean and assessed how she felt before saying, “Like I’ve been shot out of a cannon.”
John threw his head back in laughter. “Please, tell me you don’t know what that feels like.”
“Well, no. I reckon I don’t.” Josie looked up at John, glowing down at her. He’s acting very strange. Not like himself at all. If this was a dream, she was relieved that at least he wasn’t brandishing a sword.
Carefully taking her hands, John examined her palms. “What were you thinking, Jocelyn, going back into that bus?” He touched her face lightly. “You could have been killed. What would I do without you…what about the kids?”
What did I do? Josie searched his face, looking for some meaning to his questions, until the faint memory of that poor woman flickered by. Oh, right. “I suppose I was thinking that if she lost what little money she had…” Josie trailed off. What did Denton give me, anyway?
“Well, I’m just glad you’re all right.” John reached up to sweep a wayward strand of Josie’s hair away from her face. “You scared me half to death. I thought that I’d lost you forever.”
And, that’s a bad thing? Josie was about to say, until—
John stepped closer and began lightly caressing the scratches and bruises scattered about her face and neck. Josie stood immobilized, feeling her heart quicken with his touch, while a voice in the back of her head warned her to step back. But she didn’t. His touch was alluring. Her body refused to move.
“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.” Taking her chin in his hand, John tilted her face up, and leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, gently kissing her. Again, Josie heard a warning sound in her muddled psyche, but she hadn’t been kissed like this in along time.
John’s kiss intensified, his lips moving hungrily against hers. He released the belt of her robe and slid his hands beneath the fabric. Josie moved her arms up to his shoulders when she felt the light touch of his hands tracing across the exposed skin between her tank and panties.
He pulled her closer, and another alarm went unheeded by Josie as she felt John’s hands moving under her top, gently up her back, and to the side, finally caressing the edges of her breasts. His touch on her sore ribs sent darts of pain shooting through her core. She winced, but didn’t want him to stop.
On her toes now, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer still, and kissed him hard.
Breathless, John pulled away, saying, “Let’s go inside.” Taking Josie by the hand, he lead her back into the room and over to the bed. His eyes locked on hers, John stood back and pulled his polo up over his shoulders, before letting it fall to the floor.
With tentative fingers, Josie explored his firm chest and abdomen, still questioning whether or not this was all an illusion.
“Am I dreaming?”
“No,” John said. “I’m right here.”
She moved her fingers down to the buttons of his jeans. One by one, she released each of them until they were all undone. He stepped out of them.
“I don’t think we need this anymore,” he said as he slid his hands under the collar of Josie’s robe, over her shoulders, and along the backs of her arms, allowing the light fabric to flutter softly to the floor. Then, he slowly removed her tank top.
As if seeing her for the first time, John took in every inch of Josie’s exposed body. “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was almost a whisper.
Her adrenaline mixed with what remained of the sedative, and she closed her eyes, suddenly feeling lightheaded under his gaze.
When her eyes opened again, John was standing a breath away as he took her face in his hands and lightly kissed each eyelid before tracing his lips over her forehead and cheeks. His mouth was warm, his touch familiar.
“Mmmm, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he said.
Gently, he cradled her tattered body in his arms and laid her down onto the feathery covers.
Lowering himself down on top of her, he left his upper body hovering above hers, supported by one arm. With the other hand, he deliberately traced over the black and purple br
uises that dotted her ribcage. His touch caused her heart to pound without inhibition. Her chest heaved with her increased need for oxygen.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
Josie reached up and took hold of John’s neck. Pulling his lips to hers, she breathed, “I won’t break.”
He kissed her tenderly as he eased his body down alongside hers, and she rolled onto her side to face him. When Josie felt her bare skin touch his, the alarm sounding in her head was finally silenced.
* * * *
Beams of bright sunlight pressed against Josie’s eyelids, and she fought the impulse to let them open. Something heavy was resting across her ribcage while her palms burned and itched at the same time. Too uncomfortable now to fall back asleep, Josie allowed her eyes to slowly open. Looking around at the open shutters and billowing white sheers, she realized where she was. When she stirred to relieve the pressure from her ribcage, she noticed a man’s arm was draped over her. Another arm rested beneath her neck and shoulders. Someone was cuddled up next to her. She was afraid to move as her gaze darted about, trying to remember exactly what had occurred here last night.
Nothing came to mind.
Her body aching, Josie knew she needed to move. Hoping she could escape without disturbing her guest, she edged herself carefully toward the side of the bed. When she was almost free, one of her feet caught on the tangled covers, spinning her body over the side, and sending her tumbling out of control.
When she landed with a thud on the floor, shockwaves of pain shot through her body. The coolness of the bare tiles alerted her that she was naked. After allowing the pain to subside, Josie looked over and saw her robe lying in a heap just a few feet away. She pushed herself up to sitting, reached for the robe, and slipped her arms into it, tying it the best she could around her bruised ribcage. What happened to me? But first things first, who’s on my bed?