Uncle Owen had sent me a check for my work. He must've talked to Jack and got the invoice and happily paid me in full. I heard through the construction grapevine the counters were going in this week. I'd given my dad the last installment on buying him out, the business now mine. He was officially retired and would now fill his days torturing my mother.
It felt good, no, so much better than that, to have a job that I loved and knew was all mine. I thought of Jack and how he'd been stripped of his profession through, admittedly, some fault of his own. But being forced to be the fall guy must've ripped at his gut. It ripped at mine.
I couldn't imagine something like that happening to me. My good name was my work, and my work was my good name. They went hand-in-hand, especially in a small town like Bozeman. Any town, for that matter. Having that taken away left Jack with...what? Nothing.
As I was placing a wax seal for a toilet in a new home construction, my cell beeped that I had a text. I read the display.
Jack.
My heart rate accelerated, my body temperature went up just seeing his number. Excited, I read the text: Tell Goldie I get it.
Huh. I was hoping more for an 'I love you' or something similar. My heart plummeted out of my throat in disappointment. I had no idea what the text meant, but I was about to find out.
“Goldie, Jack just sent me a text,” I said, once she picked up at the store.
“Oh?” she asked, sounding nonchalant.
“Yes,” I said testily. “He wanted me to tell you, 'I get it'. Those were his words. Know what that means?”
Goldie chuckled. “Hang on. Yes, the ribbed condoms are for her pleasure. Yes, you still use a condom if she's on the pill. Listen, Veronica? I've got to go. This man needs some sex ed.”
She clicked off. One thing Goldie was known for was responsible sex. She touted condoms for everyone unless in a committed relationship, and even then unless they wanted a chance at having a baby. Obviously Condom Guy needed some enlightening. I remembered a similar conversation when I was nineteen. I didn't envy him.
What did Jack mean? He gets what? Until I cornered Goldie at the store when I worked next, it would just remain a mystery. Grumpily, I went back to work on the toilet. Patience was not one of my strong suits.
***
I stopped at home to eat lunch between jobs. I had the contract for plumbing in three new construction homes in a high end subdivision and had to stop at the plumbing supply store afterward for another fitting I'd bought in the wrong size.
I looked out the back window, saw the piles and piles of snow that weren't going anywhere until April. The thermometer suction cupped to the window read thirteen. I thought about Miami and how it must be warm, warm enough to wear shorts and tank tops, bathing suits even. The sand must be hot under bare feet, the smell of sunscreen in the air. I sighed, knowing the only sunscreen I'd be wearing any time soon was on my face the next time I went skiing.
I had the sandwich fixings out on the counter and was squirting spicy mustard onto some wheat bread when there was a knock on the door followed by a 'Hello!'
Crap. Violet. This was not when I wanted to have our little confrontation about Jack, high school, and her ridiculous penchant for falling into very messy situations. I had work to get back to and I was cranky enough without her adding to it. I took a deep breath, put down the mustard and walked into my tiny living room, girding myself for my sister.
I didn't expect her to have company. There, standing next to Violet, was Jack. A large black carry-on bag was slung over one shoulder.
My worst fears were realized in that moment. That sickening, stomach plummeting feeling you get on a bad roller coaster squeezed my stomach. Jack had picked Violet after all. No wait, maybe he doesn't know Violet is really Violet. It was like high school all over again.
“Reid,” I said. He wore the new coat he'd bought when he'd been in town last, the same gray cap. He looked good. Even tanner than last time. I barely glanced at my sister. I knew what she looked like. I saw her every time I looked in the mirror.
“Miller,” he replied. He was staring at me, too. I didn't know what he could see, but I tried my hardest to keep everything I felt for him, including the heart wrenching rejection, out of my gaze.
“Look what I picked up at the airport.” After about ten seconds of everyone frozen in place, the only thing moving was Violet's gaze darting between us, she piped up, “Well, this is interesting.”
I broke the spell. “You're back.”
Jack nodded. “This morning. Uncle Owen said he'd get me but sent her,” he angled his thumb at Violet, “instead.”
Uncle Owen must be back in town, but I didn't really care at the moment. I couldn't stand it any longer. “You know that's...”
I pointed at my sister. Right then and there, I wanted some scissors so I could cut off Violet's hair. Make it short and completely different than mine so it would be blatantly obvious who was who. Not that we tried to look alike, but wearing it long seemed to be the best look for both of us. We had different styles when it came to clothes, but someone like Jack who hadn't been around in ten years wouldn't know that. Nor the fact that he was a guy and they generally never noticed something like that anyway.
“Violet,” Jack replied clearly, no waffling or second guessing.
I pursed my lips. “You can tell the difference between us...now?”
Jack dropped his bag on the floor, walked over to me. Took my fingers in his cold ones. He stood close enough where I felt his warm breath, spearminty fresh. “You're Veronica. Also known as Miller. Not because I don't know which sister you are, but because that's the nickname I've always called you. Ever since I first wanted you when I was sixteen.” He tilted my chin up with a finger, forced me to look into his blue eyes. “You look nothing like Violet.”
I humphed at that one. “Yeah, right.” I knew the difference, the subtle nuances between Violet and myself. My parents could see them, not many others though.
“Your right eye tilts up in this really attractive way your sister's doesn't.”
“Hey!” Violet said. She stood there, inside the doorway. She hadn't moved.
I ignored her. So did Jack. “Your face is just a slight bit rounder. You stand straighter. Your eyes light up when I see you. I can say, for sure, Violet's don't.”
“Hey!” Violet said again.
“Shut up, Violet,” I murmured, savoring Jack's words. His blue eyes pierced into me, held me in place. Not that I wanted to look anywhere but at him.
“You have a tiny scar by your left ear,” he lifted his fingers to touch the spot, “that I love to kiss.” He leaned in and did just that. Stayed close and whispered so only I could hear, “On the inside of your right thigh, high up, you have this little mark I left on your skin. A hickey, I believe?”
I blushed to the roots of my hair. Jack had given me a red mark where he'd sucked on the tender skin right at the juncture of my thigh and my...
But it was gone now. I'd watched it fade over the past two weeks.
I wrapped my hand around Jack's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Our tongues tangled instantly and I knew I'd found what I'd been missing my whole life. What I'd craved since he flew away.
“Hey!” Violet shouted. It seemed to be the only thing that could come out of her mouth.
We broke the kiss, turned our heads to look at her. “I forgive you. Now go away,” I told her.
Jack wasn't quite done. “Violet, you were a vindictive bitch in high school, but I can't blame you anymore. I was one hot stud back then and I know you couldn't help yourself.”
Violet's jaw dropped open. “Hey!” Yup, a broken record.
“Like Miller said, go away.”
In a huff, Violet zipped her jacket, stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Now where were we?” Jack smiled, and then lowered his mouth to mine. Without breaking our lip lock, Jack stripped off his jacket and hat, grabbed me around the waist and led me over to the co
uch. He sat down and I climbed on his lap, my legs straddling his. I tangled my fingers in his hair, played with the long ends that seemed to curl this way and that. Pulling back from the kiss, I took my time and just looked at him. His eyes were a little bloodshot, stubble on his jaw a little longer than usual. He looked downright weary.
“Long day?” I asked him.
“Mmm,” Jack replied, his eyes falling closed as I caressed the nape of his neck. “I got the six a.m. flight out of Miami, then a layover in Denver.”
I wanted to ask him right then and there if he was in town for the weekend or for the rest of his life. But I was afraid. Afraid of what the answer might be. I wasn't sure if I could handle his departure another time.
“I didn't hear from you so I was worried. Want to tell me how things turned out?” His eyes were still closed. I wondered if he'd fallen asleep or was ignoring my question. “Did they turn out?”
Jack sighed deeply, put a hand on my hip and squeezed. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked at me. “It's all resolved.”
I cocked my head. “Just like that?”
Jack gave a tired laugh. “Not quite just like that. My lawyer and I dug up some evidence showing my law firm's previous knowledge of the shady moral handling of many different cases. I was able to use that as leverage to have the Ethics Panel drop their accusations against me.”
I smiled, relieved. “That's so great!”
I felt way more excited than Jack looked.
“There was a price. An exchange. I walked away from law in Florida and the Ethics Board walked away from me.”
Quirking an eyebrow, I stilled my hands in his hair.
“Don't stop, I like that,” Jack murmured.
My hands started up again, but did it on auto-pilot. “And?”
“And I fixed that kid situation I told you about. Information that detailed the wife's previous infidelity mysteriously appeared in the husband's lawyer's mailbox. He has enough fodder to have a new custody hearing.”
I processed Jack's words, looked at him closely, carefully. The harried look he'd been carrying around with him was gone. Even tired, he looked relaxed. At ease with himself. “You did the right thing.”
Jack smiled at me, squeezed my hip, nodded. “I did the right thing. And it felt damn good. It felt even better getting on that plane and walking away from it all. There's nothing in Florida I feel proud of. It was easy to take the deal with my boss.”
He pulled my hip, tugging me toward him. I wanted to get some answers before I succumbed to him and his charms. In fact, I could feel one of his charms getting bigger by the minute beneath me. I put a hand on his chest, felt the rise and fall of his breath, the solid thump, thump of his heart. I couldn't hold my ground for much longer. The desperate need I had to kiss him, touch him, everywhere was becoming more and more overpowering.
Using the smidge of willpower I had left, I said, “Wait.”
“I don't want to wait. I was thinking of that party bag of toys from Mike's I have in my bag.”
My smile faded, remembering what I'd put in there when I thought he was a jerk. “You've got to be kidding. You lugged that crap to Miami and back? You weren't stopped by security?”
Jack just stared at me.
“Out of all the things you packed you brought that stuff?” My voice went up an octave, incredulous.
“You're glad that I kept it all,” Jack commented. I could tell he wore his poker face because the corner of his lip was twitching.
“I'm well aware of what I put in your favor bag and I want nothing to do with any of it,” I said primly.
“Not even the cock ring?” Jack asked, clearly amused.
“Ha ha. Goldie can supply you with whatever you want.” I shook my head. “Scratch that. I want Goldie as far away from you and sex toys as possible. Working at Goldilocks would be excruciating.”
Jack grinned. “I can only imagine. To ease your mind, I gave it all to Mike weeks ago when I dropped the other bags off. Along with his fancy new paddle.”
I gave him a playful swat on the shoulder for the teasing. “Good,” I said, then added, “You might be interested to hear, I got a postcard from Lorraine and Roland.”
“Ronald,” Jack corrected.
“Right, Ronald. They're in Cancun having a second honeymoon. I guess the whole incident has brought them closer together. Along with a box from Goldie, which I've heard was quite special.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “I'm sure. Goldie's pretty good at reading people.”
A thought came to me.
“Hey, what was that weird text all about?” When I'd called and asked Goldie, she'd been distracted from answering by that sex-ed guy. I'd forgotten about it since.
“Text?” Jack asked innocently.
I jabbed him in the ribs with a finger. “Yes, a text. You know exactly what I mean.”
Jack sighed, took the hand I'd poked him with, held it, his thumb caressing the inside of my wrist. “About a week after I got back to Miami I received a package.”
“You, too?” Rolling my eyes, I said, “Oh, God. I can only imagine.”
Shaking his head, Jack continued, “I don't think you can. She and Uncle Owen sent a joint package. He sent a one way ticket back to Bozeman.”
He paused, probably wanting me to die of curiosity before he told me the rest.
I couldn't stand it. “And?”
“Goldie sent me a little present to remember all the good times I had here.”
This time I stayed quiet, waiting. I could only imagine what she'd sent. Condoms, nipple clamps, body oil, porn. The list was endless and nothing was too risqué for her.
“She sent me a pocket pussy.” His voice was a little rough and I could tell the humor of the situation was getting the better of him.
I just stared at him, processing. “A pocket pussy? Like the one the lady bought that day in the store?”
Jack slowly nodded again. “Must've been where Goldie got the idea.”
“Your text said,” I paused, thinking about what he'd sent, “'Tell Goldie I get it.' What does that mean? That you got the pocket pussy?”
Jack flashed another grin. “No. It meant I understood why she sent it.”
“Well, I don't,” I replied, my voice a little snippy with impatience. It was like everyone was in on a joke but me.
“If I remember correctly,” Jack started, “the woman who bought it that day was giving it to her husband for when he went away on a business trip. To use and keep him busy until he got back home and could be with her again. Goldie sent it to me to use,” Jack cleared his throat here, most likely thinking about using the masturbation tool, “until I could get back to you.”
My mouth fell open and tears filled my eyes in a hot rush. Jack's face got blurry. “Oh, my God. That's the most romantic thing I ever heard.” I swiped at the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Did it work?”
“I'm assuming you're referring to Goldie's efforts, not the functionality of the pocket pussy.”
I chuckled through my tears. Jack lifted a thumb and rubbed them away. “I'm here, aren't I?” he whispered.
Leaning in, I kissed him with every ounce of love that I had. The need must have been mutual because not only did Jack's kiss feel full of lust, but his love for me as well. Raining kisses over my damp cheeks, down along my jaw, my neck, my ear, Jack whispered, “Just so you know, I didn't use it. I've been waiting to come back to you.”
My hands moved to Jack's shoulders, felt the softness of his fleece beneath my fingers. I gripped tightly, holding on for dear life as he licked and sucked at my very sensitive neck. My eyes had fallen closed at some point. “Are you really back?”
“Yes,” Jack all but groaned against my neck, his breath made goose bumps rise on my skin. His hands had moved underneath my grungy work sweatshirt, beneath my T-shirt to my bare skin. “You're the only good thing in my life. Hell, you are my life.”
He kissed me, gently, softly on the lips. “
I love you, Miller.”
My heart rate accelerated at his words, excitement flared. “I love you, Reid.” I pulled back, grabbed hold of Jack's head so he couldn't look anywhere but at me, his rough stubble scratchy against my palms.
“For good?” I asked.
This was it. The answer I'd been dying to hear.
“For good.”
Other books by Jennifer Zane:
Gnome On The Range
Gnome For The Holidays
Gnome, Alaska
The Lady And The Lawman
About the Author:
Jennifer Zane has lived all over the country—from Georgia to Maryland, New York to Colorado, including an exciting five years in Montana. Her time in Big Sky country was the basis for this book. When she's not writing, she savors the insanity of raising two boys, is figuring out how many meals she can make with a pressure cooker, and teaches a pretty mean karate class. She currently lives with her family in Colorado.
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© 2012 by Jennifer Zane
Cover Design © 2015 by Jennifer Zane
Cover Image: © ChenPG - Fotolia.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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