Jessie sighed, momentarily distracted by the sight. “Can’t I just put my shorts on?”
“You can, but then I’ll just have to take them off again later. It’ll be much more efficient if you just wear my shirt.” He handed it to her and she snatched it up and started doing up the long row of buttons. He pushed her hands away and began doing up the buttons himself as he said, “Besides, we’ve already sacrificed one pair of panties today. I don’t really want to be responsible for ruining any more of your clothing.”
“So, I suppose this has nothing to do with you wanting to leer at me while we forage for food in my kitchen,” she said, giving the long, ridiculous sleeves a flap. “How can you possibly find this titillating in the least?”
He grinned down at her and straightened the collar. “I don’t know. I guess it’s a possessive thing. Like in high school when the girl wears the guy’s team jacket.” He began rolling up the sleeves. “Not to mention the fact that I like knowing that you’re naked underneath. That I can just reach under and touch you anytime I like, or lift up the back and take a gander at that birthmark.” Playfully, he reached behind her to do just that, but she slapped his hand away.
“Food first, then gandering,” she said, standing up in her new plaid shirt. It fell almost to her knees.
Duncan leaned back and looked up at her admiringly. “Yup, I’ll definitely take this over lingerie anytime.”
“You’re serious? You wouldn’t prefer a garter belt and stilettos and all that stuff?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, alright… I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you all decked out in some kind of playmate ensemble, but that stuff is kind of the equivalent of me dressing up like a pirate or a viking or something. Fun for special occasions, or if you’re trying to spice things up a bit, but kind of ridiculous otherwise. Nope, this is what pushes my buttons.” He leaned forward and ran his hands up the back of her thighs, looking up at her with smoldering eyes.
Jessie didn’t slap him away this time. Food forgotten she sighed as he pressed his lips to her stomach through the shirt. “Hmmm…that feels nice, but I hope you’re not expecting some kind of clothing exchange after this. You are definitely not wearing anything of mine.”
He laughed and stood up, giving her bottom a parting squeeze as he smoothed his hands up her body. “No, not quite the same thing, is it? If you wear my shirt it’s cute, but if I start slipping on your underwear we’re back to the whole fetish thing again. Not nearly as sexy.” He took both of her hands in his and leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “C’mon let’s get you something to eat,” he said tugging her toward the kitchen.
She followed him reluctantly, not sure if she wanted to eat now. “You wouldn’t happen to still have your police uniform, would you?”
*****
Unable to find anything edible in Jessie’s kitchen, twenty-five minutes later they were happily munching on the pizza they’d had delivered. Jessie was sitting on the white Formica counter with her feet in Duncan’s lap and he was idly running his free hand up and down her legs as they talked. It was very casual and comfortable, like they’d been doing this together for years.
Jessie couldn’t remember ever being this happy, but one small thing bothered her. The thought of Duncan and his wife still niggled at her. Had he sat like this with her? Had she worn his shirt around the house? Had he been unable to keep his hands off her? Jessie couldn’t help herself—she had to know if he still had feelings for his wife.
“Duncan,” she asked, hesitating. He looked up at her expectantly and reached up to remove a smear of tomato sauce from her chin with his thumb. She smiled her thanks and continued. “Where’s your wife now? Is she still here? I mean; do you see her at all?”
Duncan frowned at her nervous tone. “What do you mean, do you I see her?”
“I mean; do you spend time together?” Jessie tried to look casual, but her inability to look at him revealed how worried she was about his response.
Duncan tossed his crust of pizza in the box a few feet away on the table and stood up in front of Jessie. Gently he angled her chin up so she had to look at him. “Why the hell would I spend time with her? She just tried to blackmail me for ten million dollars. Not exactly the person I want to hang out with.”
“I know that, but you guys have a lot of history. You must have feelings for her.”
“I do, but nothing positive or pleasant, believe me. I will be thrilled when my grandmother’s lawyers convince her to sign the papers and move on to the next guy with a trust fund.”
“So, I take it the ten million dollar pay-out is off?”
“Yeah, turns out she extorted a million dollars out of my grandmother before we got married and then reneged on the agreement. Evelyn’s delighted to have the chance to extract some justice. Kerry will be gone as soon as she knows what’s at stake.”
“Well, that’s good at least.” Jessie said, relieved to know Kerry wasn’t going to be in the picture for long. “But you were married to her. I know you did it out of a sense of obligation, but you must have cared for her—must still care for her at least a little bit.”
Duncan sighed and placed his hands on either side of her hips. His voice was resigned as he said, “I don’t know if I would say I care for her. I certainly don’t want anything bad to happen to her or anything, but we never had what could be called a loving marriage. I tried to make it work, but she was so angry with me—all the time. We were sleeping in separate rooms within a month of the ceremony.” He shook his head at the memory and then continued. “I always thought if I got married it would be a partnership, you know, but it never was with us. I barely even saw her. As things got worse, I worked more and more and that just aggravated her. She didn’t want me around, but she didn’t want me working either. It was awful. Really awful.”
“I’m sorry, Duncan,” Jessie said, reaching up to touch his face. “We haven’t known each other very long, and I probably shouldn’t have brought it up, but I wanted to know where I stand.”
Duncan chuckled and placed his hands on her hips. “Well, let me tell you where you stand.”
Jessie tried to interrupt--wanting to explain that he didn’t need to define their relationship so soon, but he touched one finger to her lips to quiet her. She raised her eyebrow questioningly, but he just paused, trying to gather his thoughts.
Finally, with heartbreaking sincerity, he said, “Jess, you have every right to want to know about my past relationships—or relationship, I should say. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together—you’re the one I want to be with and you have nothing to worry about from my soon-to-be-ex-wife. What I feel for you is completely different than anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it’s all I ever imagined love to be.”
He paused, gathering his composure and removed his finger from her lips to cup her chin. “I love the way you make fun of me, and your incredibly quick mind, and the way you blush at just about everything and to be honest, I can’t think of a single thing I don’t love about you. It’s real between us and I never, ever want to lose you. That’s where you stand with me.”
Jessie felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m overwhelmed,” she said, her voice sounding tight and strange in her own ears. “Boy, am I glad I asked. I love you too, Duncan. More than I can say, more than I thought possible. More than chocolate or pizza or kittens or…”
Duncan laughed and kissed her soundly. “…Or Victorian erotica. Now, I believe you promised me a gander at that birthmark.”
They made love again, this time slowly and tenderly, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, whispering the words of love that were so new to them, losing themselves in each other and finding, that sometimes, true love does happen, especially when you’re not looking for it.
Epilogue
Seven Months Later…
Jessie sat on the floor of the store and sorted through a box of stock. It was early on a Sunday morning in February and no one was there b
ut her and Sunny, the orange tabby kitten Duncan had gotten her for Christmas. Sunny—short for Sunkist—spent her days with Jessie at Forgotten Treasures. Right now, the tiny predator was stalking one of the bras Jessie was attempting to tag.
“No,” Jessie said, wagging a cautionary finger at the kitten. “Jamie will turn you into a miniature tiger skin rug if you snag one of her designs.” The kitten ignored the warning and pounced on the red satin bra strap in Jessie’s hand. Jessie just laughed as bra and kitten rolled across the hardwood floor.
The door cracked open and Clay and Jamie entered. They were laughing and carrying a tray burdened with two huge coffees and a tea for Jessie.
Jamie stopped in mid-laugh when she spotted the kitten on the floor and screeched, “Jessie, what did I tell you? That little monster can stay next door. He is officially banned from Hidden Treasures.” Even in her anger, the note of pride in her voice at the mention of her new enterprise was evident. Two months before she had finally quit the Kitty-Kat lounge and purchased the space next to Jessie’s store to sell the lingerie designs she’d secretly been working on for the past two years. With the grand opening only a week away, she was currently enlisting everyone she knew to help get the store ready.
“Relax. He’s not hurting it,” Jessie said, reaching out to gently disengage one tiny claw from the bra. “I can’t leave him all alone over there while I’m here helping you set up. He’ll get lonely.”
“Well, he’ll get dead if you keep him over here. Why don’t you take him next door to visit Detective Groinhold? He’s waiting for you there.”
Jessie looked up, puzzled. The nickname didn’t even faze her, she was so used to it. “Why’s he over there? I thought he was coming here later to help set up some shelves and do some manly heavy lifting and stuff.” She’d reluctantly left Duncan just an hour before, warm and sated in the bed they now shared at his apartment. With a sleepy promise that he’d follow her in an hour or two, he’d quickly fallen back to sleep. He’d been called in to work late last night and hadn’t gotten home until nearly sunrise.
Clay shrugged his shoulders. “Well, apparently he wanted to take a detour. Maybe he’s looking for some pointers from Lady Pearl.” Clay said suggestively, referring to the lusty heroine in one of the Victorian erotica tomes. “Don’t tell me things are getting humdrum in the boudoir already.”
Jessie had the grace to blush. Things were far from humdrum in the boudoir. In fact, she sometimes couldn’t believe how absolutely unhumdrum things were in the boudoir. Just the week before, for Valentine’s Day, Jessie had brought home an armful of some of Jamie’s more risqué lingerie designs and modeled them for Duncan. Despite his loyalty to flannel, the fashion show had resulted in a very heated weekend in bed, shower, and even on the balcony after Theresa had gone to bed.
Duncan had retaliated a few nights later by showing up at the store in his old police uniform and pretending to arrest her. He’d even put handcuffs on her. Unable to wait until they got to the apartment, they’d ended up making love while standing up in the elevator with her handcuffed wrists around his neck. Fortunately, no one, not even nosy Ted, the superintendent, had interrupted them.
“Nope, that’s definitely not it. Did he seem okay?” Jessie asked, slightly worried. It wasn’t like Duncan to get sidetracked. If she knew him at all, he’d want to help her sister as quickly and efficiently as possible and then drag Jessie home to make love. They usually spent their Sundays in bed and he wasn’t terribly thrilled to miss out on that to do hard labor, but he knew it was important to Jessie, so he did it without complaint. Well, not much anyway.
“Let’s see: he was intense and kind of rude, but that’s pretty normal,” Clay said with a grin. Duncan and Clay would never become best buddies, but a grudging respect had grown between them over the past months. Clay and his boyfriend, Joseph—the artist who had painted the store’s stained glass windows—had even been invited over for one of Duncan’s experimental dinners recently. Jessie had enrolled him in a cooking class several months ago after learning that grilled cheese sandwiches were the extent of his culinary expertise—as punishment for hiding the fact that the meals he “made” were actually take-out.
Jessie gave Clay a little scowl. She was eternally grateful that Duncan was such a good sport where her sister and her friend were concerned. “I think I’ll go over and see what’s going on,” Jessie said, getting up from the floor and scooping Sunny up with her. “Jamie, you don’t need me for a few minutes, do you?”
Clay and Jamie looked at each other knowingly—they’d be lucky if they saw her again today. “No, take your time,” Jamie said, watching her sister head out into the cold afternoon. “And leave that cat over there when you come back, okay?”
“We’ll see,” Jessie said with a grin, waving one of the cat’s paws at her sister.
Jessie found Duncan in the sitting area at the back of the store. Exactly where they’d shared their first kiss what seemed years ago. He was glancing through a copy of the collected works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but he didn’t actually seem to be reading it, just turning pages aimlessly and watching the door. He grinned brightly when he saw Jessie standing there in her read plaid coat and dark blue corduroy skirt.
“Hi Sweetie,” Jessie said casually, locking the door behind her and walking briskly over to him. She dumped Sunkist in his lap and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “Aren’t you coming over?”
Duncan held the kitten up to his face and rubbed his nose against its soft fur. Sunny started purring loudly and they both laughed. “In a minute. I wanted to talk to you first.”
Jessie sat down across from him and watched the kitten climb all over Duncan’s leather coat. “Sounds ominous,” Jessie said, trying to sound blasé, but suddenly very worried. Weren’t things going well? Everything seemed great to her, but had she missed some clue that he was unhappy? Her heart tightened in her chest as she waited for him to continue.
He cleared his throat and set Sunny down on the floor where he looked up at them for a minute and then got distracted by a dust bunny down one of the aisles and scampered off. “It’s not, ominous, that is,” he said quietly, “at least I hope it’s not.”
Jessie felt panic rush over her. “Duncan, what is it? Is Theresa okay?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” He looked at her for a second, edged forward in his seat and then in a rush he was kneeling on the floor in front of her.
Jessie’s panic turned instantly into joy. She’d been waiting for this. His divorce had become final at Christmastime, and she’d half expected a proposal then, but it hadn’t come. When Valentine’s Day had passed by the week before without incident she’d assumed that he wanted to wait a while. She wasn’t in a rush really, but lately she’d been thinking a lot about children, specifically small boys with dark, silky hair and bright blue eyes. Before meeting Duncan she’d always assumed that she would be the kindly spinster aunt to Jamie’s children some day, but now she realized that she wanted to make a family with this man. Have a marriage like her parents, based on love and trust and commitment. Her and Duncan had talked about having kids, but always in far in the future terms--after they were married. She’d been willing to wait until he was ready. From his position on the floor, it looked like he was ready now.
“Jessie,” he said unsteadily, looking her in the eyes. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small blue box and set it on her knee. Taking both of her hands in his he said, “I wanted to wait and do this after all the excitement with your sister’s store was over, but I couldn’t wait anymore. When you left this morning, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you everyday for the rest of my life. The bed just seemed so cold and empty without you.” He paused and edged closer to her so her knees were pressed against his tight stomach. The contact seemed to give him courage. “Now, I know I’m not perfect.” Jessie grinned at this. “For one thing: I work too much. But wherever I am and whatever I’m doing, I’m wishing I were
with you. Every second. Because you make me happier than I ever thought possible. And if you’ll just agree to be my wife, I’ll try and make you just as happy. Will you marry me, Jess?” He asked, letting go of her hands, he opened the box and looked up at her expectantly.
Jessie couldn’t help it; she looked down. On a bed of blue velvet, there was a large white diamond ring in an antique platinum setting. “Oh my God,” Jessie said, tears running down her face. “It’s beautiful.”
“It was my grandmother’s.” Duncan said, taking it out of the box, he took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. “She gave it to me when we visited.”
“You’re kidding. Does that mean she approves?” Jessie asked, shocked. They’d spent an awkward three days with Theresa and their grandmother in Duncan’s very impressive childhood home before Christmas. Jessie had even met his mother in the posh hospital where she was a permanent resident—a sad, distant woman who suffered from extreme depression. Duncan was trying to build bridges with his family, but it was a slow and painful process, but he did it for Theresa’s sake. She still had hopes that someday they would be like the happy families on television and he really wanted to give her that, no matter how unrealistic it was.
“Apparently she does, but do you?”
Jessie realized that she hadn’t answered him yet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “Oh Duncan. Of course I’ll marry you. I absolutely can’t wait to be your wife.” She leaned forward and scattered kisses on his face.
Duncan found her lips and kissed her deeply, relief flooding through him. She was going to be officially his, just as soon as he could make it happen. He’d been agonizing over this proposal for months. He’d planned extravagant settings and long, drawn out speeches, but they’d sounded phony. His thoughts kept coming back here, to this spot, where they’d first met, where they’d first fell in love. Anywhere else would have been less somehow.
“Do you remember our first kiss?” He asked, pulling back to look at her with a wicked grin.
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