“Not really. Why?”
“Just one of those roads not taken.” With the house so quiet in the kids’ absence, I was getting contemplative. “I think we’d have a house instead of this little place, but neither of us would be nearly as happy as we are here.”
“I agree.” We smiled at each other for a moment, and then BJ continued. “What if you hadn’t come after me that night I was a total idiot?”
That one took no thought at all. “We’d both still be trying to make our lives fit our original plans. And we’d both be utterly miserable.”
“I’m glad you came after me, then.”
We shared a slow kiss, only pulling apart when Teensy began to walk in circles around us, brushing against each of our legs. “All right, we get it,” I said. “You need some attention too. How about we all curl up on the couch?”
Teensy gave a small yip, and BJ said, “Sounds good to me.”
“What if I hadn’t gotten Teensy?” I asked. “Would you ever have fallen for me if she wasn’t in the picture?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I yelped. “I knew it. Teensy was the main attraction this whole time. I was just the side benefit.”
In the living room, such as it was, the three of us climbed onto the couch. I flicked on the TV. The news channel was still on from last night, and I went to change it to something more pleasant.
BJ grabbed my hand. “Wait. They’re talking about Randy Tripton!”
Letting the remote drop out of my hand, I stared at the screen. It’d been years since I’d even heard that name from anyone but BJ. With both him and his wife in jail, they were never in the news.
“…former Ponzi artist targeting a small town outside New York City has appealed his case — and had it backfire,” the reporter said. “After new evidence was brought to light in the appeals court, Randy Tripton’s sentence was extended for another five years.”
“Amazing,” I breathed.
“Will he be missed at family dinners?” the reporter continued. “Doubtful. Wife Barbara Tripton, who also served time for violent crimes, has moved on and recently married her personal trainer. By all reports, the former couple is no longer in touch at all.”
“Good for Barbara,” BJ said.
“Good for her? She’s a criminal!”
“I kind of feel bad for her, knowing what lengths she was willing to go for Randy and he was running around on her the whole time.” She rested against me, and Teensy shifted on her lap. “Besides, in a way, she helped bring the two of us back together.”
I laughed softly. “It could’ve gone horribly wrong. I would’ve been missing a finger or two right now.”
“But you would’ve had me, so…”
“All right, fine. I’d pick you over my fingers.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She turned her head so her lips brushed mine. As soon as they made contact, I leaned in to deepen the kiss, immersing myself in it. I still craved her every time I looked at her.
Opening my mouth to her, I wondered if I’d ever stop wanting her like this. I couldn’t see it happening. We could be seventy, eighty, ninety, and as long as she was still her, I’d adore her just as much.
The make-out was getting hot and heavy enough for Teensy to jump down from the couch. “Probably a good idea,” I called after her. “You can come back and see us again in an hour or two.”
“Three, maybe.”
“Is that so… miss?”
BJ nodded, mischief glinting in her eye. “It is.” She picked up the fluted champagne glass again and raised it. “Before we go anywhere, I have one more toast.”
I grabbed my glass again and held it next to her as she spoke.
“To life. To love. To happiness.”
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Love,
Maria Jackson
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Table of Contents
Stay Longer
One — Leanne
Two — BJ
Three — Leanne
Four — BJ
Five — Leanne
Six — BJ
Seven — Leanne
Eight — BJ
Nine — Leanne
Ten — BJ
Eleven — Leanne
Twelve — BJ
Thirteen — Leanne
Fourteen — BJ
Fifteen — Leanne
Sixteen — BJ
Seventeen — Leanne
Eighteen — BJ
Nineteen — Leanne
Twenty — BJ
Twenty-One — Leanne
Twenty-Two — BJ
Twenty-Three — Leanne
Twenty-Four — BJ
Twenty-Five — Leanne
Twenty-Six — BJ
Twenty-Seven — Leanne
Twenty-Eight — BJ
Twenty-Nine — Leanne
; Thirty — BJ
Epilogue — Leanne
Stay Longer Page 16