The Thing About Love

by Kim Karr

  He lifted his lens and snapped my picture. “I know, Jules, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t. The good news is I’ll get over it. Now come on.”

  “I’ll catch up,” I whispered.

  Once he was gone, I reflected on the differences between my relationship with Jaxson and my relationship with Jake. Both were good men. Both handsome. Smart. Sweet and funny. They were similar in so many ways, and yet so different in others. I loved them both, just in different ways.

  I didn’t want to hurt Jaxson.

  But he and I were over long before I met Jake.

  There was something missing between us, and it was on his part as well as mine. Even if he didn’t see it that way right then, some day he would.

  I want the best for him.

  I want him to feel what I feel.

  To feel more alive than ever.

  That’s the thing about love, wasn’t it—you don’t get to pick it, it just happens.

  Wistful, I looked toward the west and stared for a long time. I couldn’t believe it when the brilliant magenta sun began dipping beyond the horizon.

  It was picture perfect.

  The day had been one of sparkling clarity, without a cloud in the sky and bathed in nothing but sunshine.

  Not too hot and absolutely no rain.

  It was beyond perfect.

  Too bad it wouldn’t last forever.

  Whole Nine Yards

  JULES

  I STARED AT THAT MOUTH. Those lips . . .

  Oh, my God.

  Jake was talking, telling me about a conversation he had had with the Governor about the rural counties of Georgia, but I wasn’t listening.

  In the vast space of the open ballroom, it was taking all of my strength to fight against the lustful desire that was trying to make its way deep inside me.

  Jake glanced over at me, and I knew the moment he became aware of my lustful trance. I felt the blood rush to my face, and I swallowed hard. My parted lips and heavy breathing were a dead giveaway. Not to mention my nipples felt like diamonds, and there was a steady pulsing between my legs that was beginning to ache.

  He leaned closer.

  He knew what he was doing to me.

  My clit felt like it was throbbing.

  Space.

  I needed space.

  Thank God, the ballroom doors were open, and I used that as my cue to put some distance between us. With long strides, I stepped ahead of him and out into the fresh air of the night. He caught up with me, and my gaze rose. Again I found myself staring at those lips.

  Those lips that had to send every woman reeling.

  I knew they did me.

  With a dry throat, I managed, “Looks like everything went off without a hitch.”

  Jake dropped his own gaze. “All that’s left are the fireworks and the send-off, and then it’s done. I think you deserve a break.”

  I gave a huff of laughter. “My break will come at the very end.”

  He looked at his watch. “We only have thirty minutes until midnight. I think you can relax for a few minutes.”

  I sipped my pink champagne and then turned to look out toward the party. Moonlight danced on the surface of the tents, and the stars were as bright as I’d ever seen them. “Yes, maybe I can.”

  I leaned against the open door jamb. I’d changed into that blush silk dress with the thin, sexy straps I should have worn to begin with. The only downside was I had to change my shoes. My toes curled in my heels. My feet were killing me.

  Lilies scented the air, and I breathed it in. I loved this part of summer. The dark nights and the warm air whirling around with the scent of the summer in it.

  From behind, Jake reached around me and handed me a black velvet rectangular box. “I bought you something.”

  With shaky fingers, I took it from him and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful diamond necklace. A single solitaire inside an elongated star. A perfect match to my diamond earrings. I looked at him.

  “It’s your North Star. Whenever you wear it, I want you to think of me.”

  I knew this was his goodbye to me, but I didn’t want to believe it.

  I just wanted him.

  He put it around my neck and then turned me to face him. His eyes turned hungry and electricity sparked between us with just a simple look. This attraction was too much. I didn’t know how to deal with it without acting on it.

  Dropping my gaze, I looked at my glossy pink toes. He lifted my chin. Excitement stirred in the air. He was so close to me that I could smell his heavenly scent. He smelled of the soap in the shower. He smelled of pure man. Like always I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and sniff him.

  Our bodies were almost touching.

  I wanted them to be.

  Then they were.

  Like two magnets, we were drawn together.

  He had leaned forward just a bit and then his fingers were on my face, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

  Feeling electrified, my body jerked as his flesh came in direct contact with mine, and my breath caught at the intensity of the physical connection.

  “I want you,” he whispered at the same time he lightly nipped at my bottom lip. “Right now.” I nodded, silently telling him I wanted him too—and right now.

  He took my hand and walked fast through the foyer and into the room that had once been his grandmother’s office. Behind him he locked the door, and then pressed me against it.

  The feeling of his lean, muscular body pressed against mine only served to further ignite my desire. With a desperation I didn’t understand, I pushed myself closer. Close enough that my hard nipples pushed against his unyielding chest. I couldn’t help myself.

  Jake made a sound of approval deep in his throat.

  I wanted to close my eyes but couldn’t. I had to see him. I looked up into his eyes, those light and dark eyes, and lost myself in him.

  He looked at me like nothing else mattered but having me.

  I shivered from that look alone.

  It wasn’t long before his hands were running up my sides and when he lifted me, I felt electrified. I wanted this like I’d never wanted anything. Responding in the only way I could, I wrapped both my arms and legs around him and then buried my face in his neck.

  With my lips touching his skin, and his scent invading me, my senses came alive. The edges of his hair tickled wonderfully against my cheek. The feel of his hands, now firmly grasping my hips, seared me as if he were branding me. His heavy breathing was all I could hear.

  What came next happened so fast. We were moving. He was setting me down on the desk. His hands were dragging up my body to the hem of my dress. He lifted it to my waist.

  My fingers trembled as they unzipped his pants. With a lick of my lips, I allowed my eyes to graze over him—he was devastatingly handsome. He was soft and hard at the same time. Just like the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose—they were hard but those incredible blue eyes outlined in dark, thick lashes softened his features.

  My gaze slid down.

  Seeing his erection made my heart beat so fast.

  Heat flared in my belly.

  All of a sudden, everything became about this man.

  He was all I could think about. On how he slid his hands to the back of my neck. On how his fingers tangled in my hair to tip my head back. On those lips that would be on me very soon.

  Oh, God.

  Then he slid those soft lips down my skin and his fingers followed, and I felt each beat of his breath and mine.

  Excitement danced in my belly.

  My nipples were tight, like hard steel tips. When Jake skimmed his thumb over the silk that covered my breast, I sucked in a breath and nearly gasped. But when he pushed the fabric aside to close his mouth around it, and I felt his tongue, his teeth, and his lips all at the same time, I practically whimpered.

  It felt so good—warm and wicked.

  He worked his way back up to my throat, sucking the sensitive skin of my neck betwe
en his teeth as he did. The small bites didn’t hurt, but they did send the most erotic sensations ripping through me.

  I bucked beneath him with a crazy, writhing need. I was like a lioness out of her cage, wild and free. With desperation, my hands found the back of his head to thread my fingers in his hair. Tugging it, pulling it, I brought him to my mouth where I wanted those lips.

  He groaned, and then he placed his palm and pressed against my clit on the outside of my panties. Again, I writhed beneath him.

  I had become a current for his touch, and the way his fingers slid inside my panties to find my slick heat, more than electrified me from the top of my head to my the tips of toes.

  Breathless, I moved my hands to his shoulders and slid my tongue down his throat, and just like he had, I pulled his skin between my teeth. I might have been rougher, I might have left a mark—I wasn’t sure. I just couldn’t control myself.

  His responding groan told me he was burning just like me, and his body language told me not to stop, so I didn’t. Not until he moved to capture my mouth with his own and take me with a heart-stopping kiss.

  If I were romantic, I’d say that although he was bold with his body, to the point of unfaltering, he was almost tender, sweet even, with his mouth. It was that whole hot/cold, hard/soft thing we’d had going on from the start.

  The heat of his body radiated and I could hear his ragged breaths. They mimicked mine. He took his cock in his hand and positioned himself at my opening. With the sounds of our mingled breaths the only noise in the room, I placed my palms flat on the cool surface and spread my legs wider.

  His exultant groan echoed as soon as he thrust into me. Twin bursts of pleasure sizzled under his touch. I bit my lip to stop from crying out.

  With steady movements, he eased in and then out again. In then out. Giving me a bit more each time. Going deeper and deeper. When he was fully inside me, I thrust my head back and closed my eyes.

  He was my home, and I was going to lose him.

  With his hands tightly gripping my hips, he slammed into me. Hard. And then harder still. Again, I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out.

  It felt so good.

  His fingers gripped me, pinched me almost, as he slammed into me. I followed his rhythm, and then everything exploded inside me. He pulled back and thrust. His cock slid so deep inside me that my hands gripped the edge of the table so hard that it was cutting into my skin.

  And then we were both coming.

  Joined together, we were breathing heavy, giving each other pleasure that never seemed to be enough. His head fell to the crook of my neck, and I wrapped my arms around him.

  This was who we were, but not who we were meant to be. And I had to accept that.

  Outside the office, we heard shouts. “Jake. Jake. Where are you?” It was Rory, and her voice was panicked.

  Jake jerked back in a rush and zipped up his pants. He looked at me. “Go,” I said, getting to my feet and pushing my dress down. “I’m right behind you.”

  “Jake, where are you?”

  He rushed from the room and up the stairs toward Mimi’s bedroom. I tried to move fast, but I was stopped in my tracks when I heard the sound. The tortured cry of despair that ripped from Jake’s throat.

  And I knew . . . I knew then, something really bad had happened.

  That Mimi had died.

  Once In A Blue Moon

  JULES

  I FOUND HIS GOODBYE NOTE on his dresser the morning after the funeral.

  The envelope was thick, and my heart pounded as I opened it. Inside were the pearls that I had admired the first time I met Mrs. Beatrice Beau Crawford Alexander and a hand-written note in what I had come to recognize as Jake’s handwriting.

  I grasped the pearls in my hand and read the note.

  Juliette,

  Saying goodbye is never easy, which is why I thought it would be best not to put either of us through that.

  I want to tell you to wait for me, but I can’t because it isn’t fair. I don’t know how long the wait would be.

  I want to stay, but I can’t. I have to do this for me. For him. I owe him that much.

  I want to say so many things, but the only one that really matters is that when I was with you, you brought my world from black and white to color.

  Enclosed is Mimi’s pearl necklace. She wanted you to have it, and wanted to make sure I told you to remember how strong you are. You should already know that, but I’m doing as she asked for fear she’s watching.

  Jake x

  Rushing to the window, I looked down. The vintage Jaguar was no longer parked in the drive. It was gone. Probably locked away in one of the garages until he came back.

  If he ever came back.

  My head was spinning. I stumbled to the bed and held the letter tight in my hand. I took a deep breath. I was not going to allow myself to have a panic attack. I knew this was coming. And Mimi had been right. She knew he would leave the easy way, and he had.

  Why hadn’t I seen this coming?

  I should have.

  Tears got stuck in my throat, and I stubbornly swallowed them down.

  I looked at the pearls in my hand.

  “You are strong,” she’d said.

  I wasn’t.

  “Show him the way,” she’d said.

  I couldn’t.

  I didn’t know it myself.

  I clutched the necklace he’d given me with my free hand. He was my North Star. My Polaris. I just couldn’t reach him. He was too far away. And it was time to let him go. At least for now.

  Rory knocked on the door and stepped inside. The way she was looking at me, I knew she knew he’d gone.

  She slouched down beside me, and I rubbed my eyes in an effort to get rid of the fog that was hanging over me.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  “You have to go get him.”

  “I can’t. He doesn’t want that. He wants to be left alone.”

  She threw her leg up on the bed as she turned toward me. “My brother doesn’t know what he wants. I’ve never seen him as happy as when he is with you, but his guilt is something he’s carried for so long that he doesn’t know how to let it go. You have to help him.”

  “I can’t.” Frustration made my voice edgy.

  “You have to. You’re the only one who can. He blames himself for something he shouldn’t, and one day it’s going to break him. You have to help him.”

  “I don’t think I can. I don’t know how.”

  “Jules, Mimi told me you did. Please don’t give up on him.”

  “I have to,” I whispered. “That’s what he wants.”

  I clutched the pearls in my hand tighter.

  Show him the way.

  I couldn’t show him the way because I didn’t know it myself.

  And I doubt I ever would.

  Add Insult To Injury

  JAKE

  I HEARD THE CALL COME in just before nine pm.

  “A homeless man on a stabbing rampage in Greenwich Village stabbed two people, assessing injuries and in transit.”

  Senseless violence I’d never understand.

  I’d been at New York Presbyterian Hospital for more than a week and every day I felt further and further removed. The satisfaction I knew my father had gotten out of this job didn’t resonate the same within me. I preferred the face-to-face of talking with patients. Discovering what was bothering them and working together to help cure them.

  There was none of that here. Just senseless violence wheeled in every day. It was hard to stomach.

  I didn’t get any satisfaction out of it.

  There was no glory.

  No sense of pride.

  Just a deep sadness that I couldn’t seem to shed.

  I’d wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps for so long, I had no idea anymore if it was ever my dream or just my nightmare.

  “What do we have?” I asked the intake nurse.

  “
Fifty-six-year-old man with a stab wound to the chest very close to his right lung. He’s unconscious.”

  “What about the other victim?”

  “Woman about the same age stabbed in both arms. Conscious, but not alert. She may be on something.”

  Moments later the doors crashed open and the paramedics powered through them. With fast feet, I trotted alongside them as they wheeled the first patient in. It only took me a moment to recognize the man lying on the gurney. “Peter,” I said out loud.

  “You know him?” one of the medics asked.

  I nodded. “Dr. Wright. He used to work here. What’s his condition?” I asked, already assessing it for myself.

  “He’d lost a lot of blood before we arrived. Pressure dressings were applied. And we started two IV’s.”

  “Has he been given anything for pain?”

  “Base ordered morphine.”

  “Anyone with him?”

  “Yes, the other victim.”

  I looked over to the third year resident that was on my heels. “Rule out other possible injuries and book an OR, stat.”

  “Yes, Dr. Kissinger, I’m on it.”

  While this third-year resident followed Advanced Trauma Life Support protocols, I quickly turned around to check on the second victim being wheeled in and froze. The haggard, unkempt looking woman was covered in blood . . . and she was my mother. “Monica,” I said hoarsely.

  She looked up. Unfocused. “Jake, is that you?” she cried.

  I nodded. Stunned.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen her.

  She reached for me. “Oh, Jake.”

  Fear seized my balls.

  This was a nightmare.

  “Jake,” she cried louder. “Talk to me, baby.”

  Ignoring her pleas, I looked over at the paramedic. “What’s her condition?”

  “Superficial stab wounds. Small pupils. Burn marks around her mouth. Dark circles around her eyes.”

  I cut him off. “Heroine?” I asked, barely able to get the word out.

  “As far as I can tell she’s a habitual user. However, there were no traces of drugs on her person at the scene. In fact, her and the male were attacked leaving a church after attending a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.” It took me a moment to gain my bearings. I hadn’t seen her in so long.