Two Weeks of Joy

by Megan McCoy

“Because I’ve seen them and tasted them and felt them and. Oh. I get it.” So you give dogs cookies a few times and they just know. That made sense to him.

  “Quick learner you are,” she praised. “They know what might happen if they do what I want! Who knows? They could get cookies or pets anytime! So they pay attention all the time, just in case. Dog do what works for them.” Joy handed him a couple treats from her shorts’ pocket. “Okay, let’s try this again. Get their attention by calling their names. Then give them a one-word command. Then wait for them to do it. Got it?” She wandered to the side of the room. The dogs both stared after her.

  Jericho took a breath, then said, as convincingly as he could, “Lovey. Thurston!” They both turned to look at him. All right then. “Come here!” They started to get up, then stood and looked at him.

  “One word, Jericho. Just come, try again,” she said softly.

  “Lovey. Thurston. Come.” he said firmly.

  They got up, came and stood in front of him. “Sit!” he told them and had to shut his dropped open mouth as they did.

  “Give them the treats,” Joy urged him. “Now!”

  He handed them both a treat, and they gulped them down and continued to stare at him. “Now what?” he asked, fascinated.

  “Now we go outside and go potty which was the original goal about ten minutes ago. Lovey, Thurston, come,” she said softly. “Dogs have good ears, I don’t have to yell,” she told him, and then gave a half twirl motion with fingers on either side of her, “Come around.” The dogs went behind her, and sat down at her side, one on either side. She smiled at him. “Want me to teach you to come around later?”

  “Oh, I’ll be coming around, don’t you worry about that,” Jericho watched them leave the room, the cute blonde between the big red dogs who walked calmly by her side, her saucy little grin, thrown over her shoulder at him, wiggling her adorable hips in her short blue shorts.

  Oh, man, what had happened to his world? And how was he going to get her in it, full time? Jericho decided he would think about that later, and just finish making notes for Kane on this project. Then he’d head down the hallway to see if his son wanted some dinner. Had Kane found him a new caretaker yet, he wondered. Couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to ask. He was just used to Kane handling things, so he probably had. He hoped she or he was a good cook for days Mariah was off. He really got tired of eating out. Maybe Joy had decided to stay and Kane didn’t have to look for one. He hadn’t asked her, either, getting too distracted by the dogs and her sexy body. He shook his head. What had he been thinking?

  Ten minutes turned to thirty and then almost an hour, before his stomach growled and reminded him he needed to go eat.

  Walking into the kitchen, he stopped short and stood amazed, staring at the sight in front of him. His son stood – stood – by the counter, cheerfully tossing salad while Joy stood by the stove cooking some kind of meat dish that smelled garlicy and delicious.

  “Surprise, Dad!” Russ said, happily.

  “When did this happen?” Jericho asked, choking up. He knew it was going to happen, but hadn’t been to any of Russ’ therapy sessions for a couple weeks. His fault.

  “Oh, don’t get too excited, I’m not running any marathons yet,” Russ said, almost condescendingly. Jericho realized he got that honestly, from his father. Russ continued chopping something to put in the salad as he continued, “I can stand and take a couple steps. But the chair is right there, and I’ll be back in it soon enough.”

  “Didn’t know you were doing this,” Jericho said, trying to speak normally, calmly. Wasn’t working very well, though. Too choked up.

  “Yeah, well, like I said, surprise!” Russ laughed and reached for another green thing to chop. How could he care about chopping? He was standing!

  “Yeah, it is a surprise. Best kind,” Jericho said. “You sure it’s okay? You aren’t overdoing or anything?”

  Russ shook his head and Joy said, “He’s fine. Russ knows what he’s capable of, don’t you, Professor?”

  “I do,” he said. “Dad, you want radishes in your salad or none? It’s almost ready,” he looked up, almost anxiously. “You are eating with us, right?”

  “Yeah. I am. I need to go wash up. Be right back,” he stepped out of the room to the half bath down the hall, more to stop the whirling in his head, than to kill any germs. He’d only been gone a couple days. How had he missed this? Well, he’d missed his first steps, too, he reminded himself. So had Lori. They were both at work, and the nanny had videoed it for them. That had been heart wrenching. This seemed worse, somehow. Was this the true beginning of the end of this nightmare?

  Joy had been around though for his sessions and this huge step in Russ’ recovery. She knew. Why hadn’t she told him? Why hadn’t Kane? Kane knew everything that went on in the house. He’d have to speak to him about it tomorrow. Right now, though he was going to go have dinner with his son, who seemed well on the road to both healing and true snarky teenager.

  Striding back into the kitchen, he noticed Russ had returned to the wheelchair and was carrying the salad bowl to the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lump of red in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Why are the dogs in here?” he all but barked out. Hey, it was his house. He needed to have some control over things.

  “Russ is doing a long down stay with them while we eat. It’s to teach them self-control. Then after we get the dinner dishes cleaned up, we’ll go outside again and let them run,” Joy explained, while putting the meat onto a platter. It joined the salad, baked potatoes, and broccoli already on the table.

  He decided to let the dogs in the kitchen thing go for now. His stomach rumbled and he said, “Good. They need some self-control. Smells good.”

  “Thanks,” Russ smirked at him. “Pass the pork chops, please.”

  He did. Despite not having set a foot inside church for many, many years, he suddenly wanted to say grace. He appeased this weird need by zapping some thoughts toward any power that could be: Thank you for my son, for his healing, for this new woman in my life, for my life. Then he picked up the pork chop plate and passed it to his son.

  Chapter Eight

  Joy glared at him, sitting up in all her naked glory, then realizing that perhaps she’d get a different kind of attention while clothed, grabbed the closest shirt, his, and pulled it over her head. It smelled so good. Like him, and sweat and love making. Yummy. She loved this smell, but made a face anyway as her head popped out of the neck hole. “Some time spent in the washing machine would do this shirt a world of good,” she told him.

  Jericho held out his hand. “Hand it over. I’ll go wash it right this very second. No one said you could wear it anyway.” He glared back and she felt a delightful shiver of nerves roll through her stomach.

  “Aren’t we two years old,” she mocked. “It’s mine, you can’t play with it.”

  He opened his mouth, then paused. “Yeah. You’re right. You look better in it, anyway. “

  Joy could feel herself softening, and then said, “This is very true. Thank you for noticing.” She wrinkled her nose at him and suddenly the tension between them broke.

  Flinging herself across the bed into his open, waiting arms, she cuddled close, and whimpered, “Don’t be mad, please? I just don’t know what to do. I do know I don’t want you mad at me, though.”

  How could she leave her life for a guy she’d met two weeks ago? It was ridiculous and asinine.

  “Then take the shirt off. Get naked again. Bet that helps,” he teased, making her choke on a giggle.

  “I’m pretty sure me taking my clothes off is what got me into this situation to begin with,” she said, reluctantly, tugging at the white t shirt she felt quite certain wasn’t covering a whole lot. “Or maybe it was this getting into me.” She put her hand on his semi erect shaft and gave a few gentle pumps.

  Jericho let her continue, but tilted her face up to his. “So let’s discuss that.”

  S
he hated when he said that. It meant he was going all businessman on her. “Is this it’s only sex for you? Or do you think its only sex for me?”

  She had a fleeting thought of seriousness, but wasn’t certain she wanted to go there. Too scary, too uncomfortable. “Nope, not all sex. Sometimes you turn me over your knee and paddle my butt. What’s with that, by the way?”

  “Oh, you like it, and I enjoy doing it,” he pulled her even closer and petted her hair.

  “Lies, lies, lies. I don’t like it at all. Nope. Not one bit.” she lied, right to his face, very boldly.

  “Well, get used to it. I’ll be doing it for the rest of your life, just so you know.”

  “What? Nothing in that sentence make any sense at all,” she shook her head, ignoring the sudden buzzing in her ears, then tucked her short blond hair behind her ears.

  He looked at her levelly, puzzled, his somber judge persona fully on, “It seemed straightforward to me.”

  “No,” she all but spat out, pulling out of his arms and kneeling on the bed, still dressed in his t-shirt. “No. I don’t want my bottom paddled for the rest of my life and I can’t sell my house and move in with you. I’ve only known you two weeks and it is just scary silliness!” Then, she sat down, burying her head in his shoulder and tried not to cry. How could he not understand this? “Why don’t you just sell your house and move in with me!” Oh. That wouldn’t work, wasn’t the same thing at all. Unlike her, the man was rich. He could just buy another house if they didn’t work out. He’d be fine. She’d be out on the street.

  “Russ has to stay here a while longer. The doctors said the air was good for him. All his therapists are here, all his doctors. He’s so much better in the last few weeks, I don’t want to move him. Otherwise, I’d do about anything to make you happy. Do you know that?” she could tell he spoke to the top of her head, but she didn’t want to move it. Didn’t want to look at him. Instead she shook her head again, as if she were the petulant two-year-old, not him.

  “I don’t like being spanked, except for fun, and I’m afraid to sell my house,” she whispered.

  “Okay,” he said calmly as if she were a business deal. “Let’s talk about both of those, okay? Will you just sit and talk to me?”

  “I’m here,” she tried not to pout. Pouting was so unbecoming. “I can talk. I guess.”

  “You guess?” his voice sounded amused and she jerked back and glared at him, then snuggled back in his arms. If they were going to talk about hard things, she wanted to be really close to his hard thing.

  “What do you want to talk about first, the spankings or the moving? You choose.”

  “Generous male you are,” she muttered. “Don’t want to talk about spankings. So. Moving it is.”

  “We will be talking about spankings, but since I let you choose, we’ll talk about the details of the move first,” he said.

  “You make it sound like it’s a done deal,” she complained, wiggling his hard arms. She did love the feel of him. Loved feeling safe in his arms, despite his stupid bull headedness.

  “I’m not a slave trader,” he told her mildly. “You still have a choice. I’m just going to convince you I’m right.”

  “You always think you’re right,” she pointed out.

  Jericho smiled at her, “I usually am.”

  Joy smiled back, then dropped her head again, against his shoulder. “Okay Counselor, have your best lawyer-ly, banker, CEO, way with me. I’m listening.”

  “Do you promise to tell nothing but the truth,” he said, tone light.

  Pausing, she thought, “I agree not to lie.” Good compromise, she thought.

  “Does that mean you just won’t answer if you don’t want to?” he asked, suddenly tense under her legs.

  “No, no, no!” she said quickly. She did not want spanked! “I promise to tell the truth. You’re mean.” But said it without rancor and he apparently didn’t take it badly. Whew. Close one!

  “Good. So. What are you concerned about?”

  “You’re being dense and that’s a stupid question. Think about it. Why would I sell my house and move across country for a job? That’s really scary.”

  “Families do it every day,” he pointed out. “Companies transfer them. People get promotions. Get new jobs. It’s not like I’m forcing you to blaze a new trail or boldly go where no one has gone before or anything.”

  “It’s the only place I’ve ever owned,” she said softly. “The first place I bought. I built that business all alone working sixteen-hour days. Now I feel like I’m abandoning it. Plus, all my friends. Out here I know less than a dozen people, you, Kane and Russ. Mariah, Jess, the therapists. If you get tired of me in a month, what will I have? No home to go to, no job to work, nothing.”

  “I see, “he said slowly. “So most of this is you don’t trust me.”

  “Jericho!” she wailed. “I’ve known you two weeks! That’s a real short amount of time to put myself in someone else’s hands!”

  “Okay, then,” he said, briskly. “As part of your employment contract, I’ll agree to pay your mortgage for six months, plus a care taker for your boarding business so if I toss you out on your cute butt, you will have a place to go.”

  Joy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s how normal people do it,” she said. “Don’t be silly. I can’t have that.”

  “Sure they do,” he said. “Its common knowledge that people put house selling requirements in their employment contracts. Often companies will buy their house, if it hasn’t sold in six months. This is basically the same thing. Hell, Kane probably has a form he can print off.”

  “What happens in six months?” she asked, starting to consider this possibility. Six months of her mortgage paid. Jennifer would probably love to stay there and run the boarding business while she was gone. This could be an option.

  “We renegotiate,” he said. “As you will see, I can give a generous parting package if need be. Who knows what will happen in six months? Russ really needs some consistency in his life. You could provide that for a finite amount of time. He’s going to start back to school in a few months and will need some moral support, as well as ongoing training with the dogs.”

  “This isn’t sounding like a bad deal,” she said, slowly. “I can consider it.”

  “I’ll give you 48 hours to consider it,” he said. “Then I’ll have to start looking for your replacement if you’re leaving.” He didn’t mention he’d already told Kane to start looking for at least part time workers.

  “That’s fair,” she relaxed against him, “Where will I sleep?”

  “With me,” he said, promptly.

  “Do you have any room in your dresser?”

  “I’ll let you sleep in the bed. You don’t have to sleep in a dresser drawer,” his hand dropped down and stroked her back, then gently moved to the front. She arched under his touch as she laughed.

  “Good to know,” she moved her hand down to his shaft that seemed to grow as his fingers stroked her nipple. Funny how that worked.

  “Oh, one more thing. I really, really like you, Joy,” his hand clamped possessively around her breast. “I want you to stay. I want to see where this goes,” suddenly his voice caught, “If you feel the same?”

  Sighing, she turned and hugged him hard. “Of course I feel the same. I’d love” her voice caught on that word, “Love to see where this goes. But, Jericho. I really don’t want another spanking.”

  “Why not?”

  Well, duh. “They hurt.” she explained simply. “And grown women shouldn’t get spanked, unless it’s in fun before or during playtime. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m a spanker. I spank my woman,” he said simply. Then, “How does it make you feel after?”

  “After what?” she asked, almost irritated.

  “After you get paddled,” he said, raising a finger to her lips. “Shhh, just think about it a minute. “

  Joy closed her eyes and thought. Well, okay. She was never mad after the fact, in
fact she felt sweet and happy and content and “Dammit.”

  Jericho chuckled. He did it so rarely, her eyes flew open and she stared at him. What was that sound? “What?” she demanded.

  “I can see you think. Your pretty face is very revealing. But really, cussing? Not a nice thing to do.” He pulled her closer and she relaxed into him.

  “Okay.” she said, finally, sniffing him, deeply, loving the smell of him, the feel of this incredible, stubborn, mostly somber, spanking man. “Okay. I’ll consider your six month contract.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he tipped her head up and kissed her.

  The End

  Where will Joy and Jericho go from here? Will she stay? Will they compromise? Will he continue to be a bossy britches?

  Part Two – coming soon!

  Megan McCoy

  Megan McCoy lives in the heartland of America, surrounded by corn, soybean fields and hot guys on tractors. At home, she's raising kids, Chinese Cresteds, and poodles, training them all with a tender hand and heart, while saving her sternness for the alpha males in her books. Getting up at three in the morning to write leaves her time for a few hobbies - gardening, canning, bike riding, bread baking and taking in strays.

  Visit her website at: www.meganmccoy.com

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  Twitter: @meganmccoybooks

  Don’t miss these exciting books by Megan McCoy and Blushing Books!

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