by M. S. Parker
It wasn’t a date, of course, but those were the best clothes for a nice restaurant as opposed to ordering in or making dinner. After selecting and then rejecting three outfits, I finally decided to wear my favorite one. Not because I wanted to impress Jasper or even get his attention. I wanted to wear it because I liked how I looked in it, how it made me feel. That’s what I needed tonight, because even though it wasn’t a date, it was being out in public in a place where what had happened was common knowledge. There’d be pitying looks and definitely some gossip about who I was with. Gossip that I knew would get back to the Lockwoods. I needed to feel confident in who I was to be able to deal with all of it.
I put on minimal make-up, slipped on a pair of heels and headed downstairs. I arrived first at the restaurant, a good ten minutes early, but I was glad I did. Jasper was early as well, coming in just a few minutes after I did. He’d dressed similarly to how he’d done before. A pair of dark gray slacks and a lighter gray fitted shirt that the hostess clearly appreciated. He only gave her a polite smile as he sat across from me.
“You look lovely,” he said.
“Thank you.” A moment of silence fell between us and then I spoke again, “I ordered us some wine. The same we had last time.”
A shadow crossed Jasper’s face and I knew he was remembering the last time he’d seen Allen.
“It doesn’t seem possible it’s been three months, does it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I keep expecting him to walk in and start talking about some obscure bit of trivia that he discovered while researching new harvesting techniques.”
I chuckled. “I found a stack of books at the vineyard on wine-making practices throughout the ages and he’d underlined a few passages on the traditions that went along with pressing the grapes manually.”
“Please tell me he wasn’t planning on hiring people to walk around in a giant vat of grapes.” A smile played at Jasper’s lips.
“That is the kind of thing he would’ve done.” I thanked the waiter who came with the bottle of wine, waiting until he poured a glass for us both. When he didn’t leave, I realized he was waiting for one of us to taste and approve the selection. I picked up my glass and did what I’d seen Allen do a hundred times, tasting and then telling the server that it was perfect.
“I find myself missing him at the strangest times,” Jasper said as the server walked away. “In the middle of an exam, someone will say something that reminds me of him. Or I’ll see something and think that it’d be a perfect present for him.”
“Me too,” I said. “I’ve woken up in the middle of the night because I rolled over onto his side of the bed and he wasn’t there.” I looked down at my wine glass. “Last week, when you yelled at me for going out to help fight the fire, it sounded so much like something Allen would’ve said.”
“What kind of friend would I be if I let my best friend’s wife get hurt?”
I took a drink of my wine and Jasper did the same. “Thank you,” I said.
“You’ve already thanked me,” he said with a half-smile.
“No, for not calling me his widow.” My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass. “I hate that word. It makes me feel like some old woman in a retirement home or something.”
“Well, you don’t look like one.” Jasper glanced at me and then looked back down at his glass as another silence fell.
That was another of those things that Allen would’ve said, the kind of reassurance that had always come naturally to him. My stomach twisted. I hadn’t realized it until just then that the discussion Jasper and I had been having about Allen hadn’t hurt. Not really. It was just the kind of wistfulness and nostalgia that I felt when I talked about my mother. There would be times, I knew, when there’d be sharper pain, but that wasn’t right now.
I should’ve been grateful for it, I knew. To be able to remember my husband without suffering should’ve been a good thing. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it though. Was it right that I was sitting here with another man, smiling and drinking wine, enjoying myself, while he was gone? It didn’t feel right.
“Are you okay?” Jasper’s fingers brushed against mine to get my attention.
I managed a smile. “Yes.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” He gave me a knowing look. “You don’t think you should be able to smile and laugh with him gone.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. Jasper could read me almost as well as Allen had been able to.
“He’d want that for you, Shae. Enjoying life isn’t betraying his memory. I knew Allen better than almost anyone and I know that he’d want you to be happy. He’d never begrudge you that.”
I nodded again. Jasper was right and I knew it. “He’d want you to be happy too,” I said. Jasper gave me a puzzled look. “I didn’t just ask you to meet me here as a thank you for all your help and support.”
He leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his wine, his expression guarded. “Why did you then?”
“I decided to take your advice and donate the insurance money to a charity.”
“That’s great.” He smiled.
“I’m giving it to you for your clinic.”
His jaw dropped slightly, eyes widening. “Shae, I can’t accept that...”
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “You can and you will. First, because I don’t want the money and I know Allen would want it going somewhere it would make a difference. Second, you’re going to take it because it’ll keep the Lockwoods off my back about it. And, finally, I want you to have it because Allen left a million dollars to you in his will, but it was supposed to come from his trust and I don’t know what’s going to happen to that money.”
“Allen...left...me...” Jasper’s face was so full of emotion that it was almost painful to look at. “Why?”
“Because he loved you,” I said. I reached across the table and put my hand over his. “You were as much his family as I was, more than his blood. He was trying to figure out a way to get you to accept the money before the accident, but I think he figured that if something happened to him before he could, you’d have to accept it afterwards.”
Our eyes met and, for the first time, I saw Jasper. Not Allen’s best friend, but Jasper, the doctor, the man who wanted to take care of people.
I pulled my hand back and picked up my menu.
“Now that you know you don’t have a choice about accepting it, how about we order some expensive steak and celebrate you being able to quit your job and begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do.”
Jasper chuckled softly. “That sounds like a great idea. And maybe some of their dark chocolate mousse for dessert?”
“Perfect.”
The mood lightened as we gave our orders to the waiter, but I could still feel a bit of tension that I couldn’t identify until after Jasper and I had parted ways. As I drove home, I realized that it came from the fact that I’d had a good time being out with Jasper, and while I’d missed Allen’s presence, I hadn’t been ripped apart by it.
I was truly moving on with my life.
Chapter 23
I ran my hands across his shoulders and down his muscular chest. The light dusting of hair tickled my palms and I smiled as I felt his breathing hitch when I reached his stomach. I leaned down, palms still flat on his tight abs, and flicked my tongue across his nipple. The darker flesh tightened and I put my mouth on it, worrying at it with lips and teeth until I felt his fingers twisting in my hair, my name falling from his lips in gasps.
I kissed my way down his stomach until I reached my goal. He was hard already, his shaft swollen and thick, eager for attention. I wrapped my hand around his base and then slid up along the soft skin. He moaned as I repeated the motion over and over again, keeping my strokes slow, my grip not too tight.
I loved doing this to him, feeling him tense beneath me, teasing him until he was desperate and begging. My own arousal was throbbing deep inside me, an ache that I knew only he cou
ld fill. I wanted him inside me so badly, but I pushed my own needs aside. This wasn’t about me but about him. What I could do for him. To him.
I shifted up onto my knees to give myself better leverage and his hand gripped my thigh, his fingers not quite able to reach where I’d like them. I didn’t move though. I knew from experience that if I was denied my own desires, when I finally gave it, I would come harder than I’d thought possible. He’d taught me that.
I licked the tip of him, letting the flavor of pre-cum burst across my taste buds. There was a hint of salt to him, but he was almost sweet-tasting. He told me I tasted like raspberries. I doubted that was the truth, but I appreciated the lie anyway.
I worked my tongue over him, savoring each inch of skin, the texture of him, the feel of every ridge and vein. When I turned my attention to his balls, the fingers on my thigh dug in with near-bruising force. My own juices slicked my thighs as he groaned my name.
My hand took the place of my mouth as I raised my head to finally take the tip of him between my lips. He swore as I slowly let him slide into my mouth. I applied gentle suction as I moved my head, taking a little more with each pass. He was too long for me to get all of him into my mouth, too wide for my lips to stretch around him, but I was going to take as much as I could. One hand caressed his balls as the other moved over the inches I couldn’t take. It was a familiar rhythm, one both of our bodies knew well and never tired of. I loved the heaviness of him on my tongue, the way his hips moved in short little jerks as he fought to keep himself from thrusting.
When I felt his breathing begin to quicken, his balls tighten under my hand, I pulled myself away from him. As much as I loved having him come in my mouth, that wasn’t what I wanted tonight. I needed him inside me so badly that it hurt. My stomach clenched at the sight of him, his cock wet and glistening.
I threw one leg over his waist and moved down his body until I felt him brush against my leg. I shivered at the contact, nipples hardening. I could feel my entire body flushing, tensing in anticipation. His hands moved to my hips, steadying me as I reached beneath me and positioned his cock at my entrance.
I was wet, but tight and I knew I should take it slow, lowering myself at an almost insane pace, drawing it out until we were both panting with need. I didn’t want that tonight though. I wanted him all at once even though I knew it would hurt. But it would be such a good hurt.
We both cried out as I dropped onto him. His fingers gripped my flesh tight and my nails dug into his stomach as our bodies shook with the intensity of our connection. I closed my eyes, head falling forward, my entire focus on the place where his body penetrated mine. My body didn’t know if it wanted to be in pain from the too-fast stretch or if it wanted to acknowledge the pleasure of being filled, the slight friction against my clit as our twitching muscles made us dance together.
Before I was entirely sure I was ready, I began to move, rocking back and forth. Ripples of pleasure coursed through me as his cock pressed against all of those wonderful places inside me. I splayed my palms on his stomach, using his body for leverage as I started to ride him. I set a bruising pace, forcing him deeper inside me, merging our bodies until I wasn’t sure who we were apart, only who we were together. My legs began to burn, but I didn’t slow. His hands moved from my hips to my breasts, squeezing and caressing, fingers twisting and teasing my nipples. And then his mouth was on my breast, teeth biting at my flesh, tongue soothing the sting. There were too many myriad sensations, too much racing across my nerves for my brain to process.
“Come,” he growled against my breast as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down onto him.
I cried out as the tip of him hit the end of me and I came. As my pussy spasmed around him, I felt him lose control. He fell back on the bed, his hips pumping up into me as he came. I felt him emptying inside me, the hot liquid filling me.
I collapsed onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight even as our bodies remained joined. He kissed the top of my head and I turned slightly so I could press my lips against his chest.
“Do you think I’ll ever stop wanting you?”
I looked up at him. “I hope not,” I said. “Because I don’t ever want to stop wanting you.”
His clear gray eyes lit up and he lowered his head to kiss me...
“No!” I jerked myself awake with the protest, tears already in my eyes. “No,” I said it again, quieter this time.
In the eight years I’d been with Allen, I’d had the occasional sex dream. Most had been about him, but a few had starred strangers or celebrities I fancied. I’d never dreamed about someone I’d known before, and certainly not...
I buried my face in my hands and cried. I knew I didn’t have any control over my dreams, but to wake with my body still throbbing from climax, and knowing that it had been a dream about Jasper that had done it...I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d cheated on Allen. I curled up in the bed, desperate to stay awake, my heart breaking over my unconscious betrayal.
Chapter 24
I spoke with Henley and he assured me that handing over the policy wouldn’t be an issue. He’d take care of all of the paperwork. All I’d need to do would be to sign the papers when they were ready. All in all, the process would be short, but Henley advised that we wait until Jasper had things officially set up so that it didn’t look like I was writing a million dollar check to a friend. Especially a friend I’d been spending a lot of time with. Henley didn’t add that last part, but if he’d known about Jasper staying over and coming by, he would’ve said it.
I knew I needed to call Jasper to tell him the good news as well as what he needed to do, but this seemed like the kind of thing I should say in person. I just wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Jasper today. Not after that dream. Finally, I decided that tomorrow would be okay. I’d make sure I didn’t dream tonight and then I could see him tomorrow.
With that decided, I sent him a text asking him to come over for lunch the next day so we could discuss things about the clinic. If he thought it was strange I didn’t call him, he didn’t say anything. His reply was cheerful and brief. I hoped it was because he hadn’t noticed anything different with my message – definitely a reason to send a message rather than calling. I didn’t want things between us being weird again, and I sure as hell didn’t want to explain the reason.
I spent the day out in the vineyard, assessing the damage and seeing if I could find something that the detectives had missed. Jacques had spent the week cleaning things up as best he could while it was still considered a crime scene. I’d told him not to come in over the weekend to explain things to me, but to write it all out and leave it in the office. I headed there after my curiosity had been satisfied and spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon reviewing the loss. How much? What would need to be done to fix the damage? It was too late to try to replant the row that had been burnt, for this year anyway. The other rows nearby hadn’t been burnt, but the high pressure hoses the fire fighters had used had done almost as much damage to the grapes. All in all, nearly twenty-two hundred square feet worth of grapes had been lost. Out of hundreds of acres, that wasn’t much at all, and I knew that it could’ve been so much worse.
I leaned back in the chair as I thought about everything Jacques had written down. It would take some time and some money, but it wouldn’t stop the harvest or vastly affect our final product. We hadn’t lost much of anything to insects or such, and if the weather held, we wouldn’t lose anything to frost. The nights were chilly, but weren’t supposed to get too cold until much later in the season. Even if we ended up with the ten percent loss we’d averaged over the last few years, we’d still do fine. Maybe we’d be down a bottle or two, but not even close to hurting us financially, not at what we already had spoken for.
The question I had now was, had this been intentional? Had the person who’d started the fire – and with the confirmation of an accelerant being used, there was no doubt about it – d
one what they’d set out to do? Had they been trying to send a warning and that was why they’d only lit one row, or had they intended to set more of it on fire and they’d been interrupted?
I was inclined to believe that they’d done what they’d set out to do because I was sure the Lockwoods had been behind it. They didn’t want the vineyard to lose all of its vines. It wouldn’t be worth anything to them burnt up. The small bit we’d lost wouldn’t make the place any less valuable if they decided to sell it. I didn’t buy Gregory’s whole ‘keeping it in the family’ bullshit, not really. He might keep it or he might sell it. I had no doubt the family would do whatever was most lucrative.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since early that morning. I stood and headed back towards the house. I had papers to finish grading and some cleaning to do. All of that and some wine, I should be able to get a good night’s sleep. Hopefully a dreamless one.
When I woke Sunday morning, the first thing I felt was a wave of relief that the only dream I’d had that night had been a strange one about a pigeon and a watermelon. Nothing about Jasper or anything remotely erotic. I’d take strange and surreal over that.
It couldn’t, however, make seeing Jasper again any less awkward. For me, anyway. He had no clue what had happened and I wasn’t about to share. I’d keep it to myself and he’d never have to know about the dream that had left me shaking. In a very bad – and very good – way.
He came with cold beer, which made me laugh because Allen had always insisted on drinking wine. Even when we’d been in college, he’d preferred wine or scotch over beer. I liked wine well enough, but I also enjoyed the occasional beer. Apparently, Jasper had known it.
We settled at the kitchen table and shared the light lunch I’d made. I could hear how stilted my voice sounded as I explained to Jasper everything my lawyer had told me. Since we were talking business, he probably didn’t notice, but I did. The kiss hadn’t changed things between us, not after Jasper had apologized. My dream, however, wasn’t something I could admit, let alone apologize for. I didn’t know how to make this less awkward without sharing things I didn’t want anyone to know, especially him.