One Good Reason

by Sarah Mayberry

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He hadn’t said a word when she told him where she stood the other day in his car. He’d let her walk away. She needed to hang on to that, even though he was standing in front of her looking beautiful, his hair still damp from the shower.

  “Don’t you?” He hooked a finger into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her toward him.

  She tried to resist, but he was strong and she wound up pressed thigh to thigh with him, her neck crooked to maintain eye contact. Jon looked at her and the smile slowly faded from his mouth.

  “A couple of days ago, Tyler asked me if I wanted to be his business partner.”

  Suddenly she was afraid to breathe. “I know. He told me.”

  “I signed the papers yesterday afternoon.” He brushed his fingertip across her cheek. “I want this to work between us, Gabby. All those things you said the other day… I want that, too.”

  She’d indulged in a few pathetic fantasies over the past few days, but this was better than all of them. Jon was staying. He was going to be part of the business. And he wanted to make things work with her.

  In case all of that wasn’t enough, he was going to renovate her living room.

  But still she didn’t say anything. It was too perfect. She wanted it too much.

  The smile faded from Jon’s lips. “If things have changed for you, Gabby, I understand. But I’d still really like to fix your wall for you.”

  “Things haven’t changed for me.” She was more than a little afraid she was going to disgrace herself with tears. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too, Gabby. You wouldn’t believe how much.”

  They kissed. She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his. Jon’s hands found her backside and she slid her hands beneath his T-shirt to run her hands over his belly and back.

  She’d thought she’d never get to do this again. She’d thought they were over. She moved closer, seeking physical reassurance that he was real, that this was real.

  “Hold that thought,” he said.

  She opened her eyes in surprise as he slipped away from her and moved toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  It had been three days—three very long days—since they’d had sex.

  “I’m double parked, and I’ve got more tools I need to off-load,” he said apologetically. “If we keep going, I’m going to need a cold shower before I can be seen in public.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  He closed the distance and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Five minutes, tops.”

  He kissed her again and disappeared out the door. She stood staring blankly at the spot he’d been for a full ten seconds. Then her brain caught up and she closed her eyes and took a moment to simply savor the realization that Jon was here, and he was staying, and this was happening.

  Against the odds. Against her expectations. He wanted her the way she wanted him.

  Her eyes snapped open and she spun on her heel and raced to the bathroom to turn on the shower. By the time she heard the door close she’d showered and was brushing her teeth.

  She spat and rinsed, then walked naked into the hallway. Jon was crouching beside his toolbox, sorting through the top tray.

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked up and his gaze instantly became very focused. “I thought you were still in the shower.”

  “What are you doing?” she repeated.

  A slow smile curled his mouth. “I’m taking my clothes off,” he said, standing and whipping his T-shirt over his head.

  “That’s more like it.”

  She turned and sashayed into the bedroom.

  “Have I mentioned you have a great ass?” Jon called after her.

  “Come tell me again.”

  “I’ll do better than that,” he said as he appeared in her bedroom doorway.

  He was naked, hard and pretty damned amazing.

  And he was here. With her.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  AN HOUR LATER—A VERY STEAMY, toe-curling hour later—Jon pushed her out of bed.

  “The clock’s ticking,” he said.

  “Couldn’t the clock tick while we’re in bed?”

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a tradesman to turn up on a weekend?” he asked her as he pulled on his jeans.

  “I’m trying to think of an appropriate comment that involves the lewd use of the word tool, but I’m drawing a blank.”

  She pulled on a tank top. Jon glanced at her. “Maybe you should wear a bra.”

  “Why?” She glanced down. Really, a bra was more of a matter of decoration for her than a necessity.

  “Because I find it distracting when you don’t.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Do you now?”

  He laughed. “I’ve handed you a secret weapon, haven’t I?”

  She eyed his big, broad chest. “You’re doing all right over there with your nuclear warheads and whatnot, don’t you worry.”

  The back and forth continued as they finished dressing and went to tackle her dining room wall. Jon had brought half a dozen disposable drop cloths and they covered her couches and dining set to minimize the clean-up. Every few minutes she stopped what she was doing to kiss him. Her heart felt full to overflowing.

  He was here. This was happening.

  Once they’d protected her furniture Jon picked up a big sledgehammer and adopted a wide stance.

  “It’s about to get noisy,” he warned. He flexed his arms and the sledgehammer swung in a powerful arc, smashing a very satisfying hole in the wall.

  “Cool,” she said, inspecting the hole. “Can I have a go?”

  Jon grinned. “Why did I know you were going to ask that?”

  She held out a hand and he passed the sledgehammer over. She hefted it, assessing the weight. Heavy, but not too heavy. Copying his stance, she swung the hammer over her shoulder before slamming it into the wall with everything she had. A big chunk of plaster fell away, revealing the frame behind it.

  “You have a talent for destruction.”

  She smashed another hole. “This is very therapeutic. People would pay to do this.”

  “I’d pay to watch you do this.”

  She looked over her shoulder to find him eyeing her backside.

  It took an hour to break up the plaster and cut away everything but the top two feet of the stud frame. Jon got busy marking up the wood and by midday she had the bare bones of a lintel installed and a sense of how the larger space would feel.

  “This looks so good!” she said, walking around and viewing the room from all angles. “I should have done this years ago.”

  “We’re not finished yet, sweet cheeks,” Jon said. “Gotta get the new plasterboard up, tape the joins, finish them with skim coat. Then we’ll have to do something about the floorboards.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Sweet cheeks? Really? You think that’s me?”

  “I thought we’d already covered my obsession with your butt.”

  “You’re right, I almost forgot about that, sugar dick.”

  He burst out laughing. Gabby joined in and for a while they did nothing but laugh like idiots and lean against each other.

  Finally, she wiped her eyes and looked at him.

  “So that’s a no on the nicknames, yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He crouched to mark up the plasterboard, and she lay a hand on his shoulder, just because she could. He looked at her, the laughter still in his eyes. Something big and warm and full expanded in her chest. He looked so happy, and she’d helped make him that way. He’d made her happy, too. In fact, she felt a little drunk with it.

  It was three o’clock by the time they’d installed the plaster over the lintel frame, finished the joins and tidied up. After they’d packed everything back into Jon’s truck, Gabby insisted on him taking her undercover spot beneath the building so that they could be assured
his tools would be safe overnight, then they showered and made love again.

  Gabby woke from a light doze several hours later to realize it was dark outside. Her stomach rumbled and she checked the clock.

  “What time is it?” Jon asked, his voice gravelly with sleep. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

  “Nearly seven. I’m starving. Pizza or Chinese again?”

  “Pizza.”

  They walked around the corner to collect it, picking up a DVD from the rental place on the way.

  “I hope you like it,” Gabby said as they rode the elevator back up to the apartment. “So I Married an Axe Murderer is one of my favorite movies ever. It’s funny and cute and smart—”

  “I am prepared to love it, even if there is dancing and singing in it,” Jon said solemnly.

  She got an action replay of the expanding-warm-chest moment as he pulled her close and kissed her. She was going to reserve judgment until they hit midnight, to be safe, but she suspected this was pretty much the happiest day of her life. She’d gotten to smash stuff, she’d scored a new open living-dining space and she’d fallen the rest of the way into sloppy, profound, death-do-us-part love with a beautiful, kind, sweet man. Hard to beat that.

  Her step faltered as they exited the lift.

  “You okay?” Jon asked.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  She smiled a reassurance at him and handed over the key so he could let them into her apartment.

  Love. She was in love with Jon. It felt a little scary admitting it to herself, even though she’d been catching glimpses of it out of the corners of her eyes for the last few days. She’d fallen so hard and fast. Like a rock.

  Admit it. You were gone the moment he showed up on the doorstep this morning.

  Although Gabby was beginning to suspect she’d been gone the moment she looked into his eyes that very first day and that she’d been fighting a desperate rearguard action ever since. To absolutely no avail.

  “Plates or out of the box?” he asked as they walked into the living room.

  “People don’t eat pizza off plates. That’s an urban myth.”

  Jon grinned at her. “I never would. But people get strange ideas sometimes.”

  She felt a terrible urge to sit in his lap and wrap her arms around him and tell him all the different reasons she loved him. Because he was honorable and because he was kind and because he was funny and because he cared and because he was tender and generous…

  She took one step toward him, then caught herself.

  It was too early. They were on Day One. She could hold her horses for another day or two. She might even hold out for three days before she lay herself utterly at his feet.

  They ate their pizza in front of the TV, Gabby pointing out all her favorite parts of the movie to him and reciting key pieces of dialogue along with the characters. The third time she did it, he pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly.

  “What was that for?” she asked dazedly.

  “You’re adorable.”

  They stretched out along the sofa, Gabby’s back pressed to his chest, one of his arms snugged around her body. She pretended to watch the screen while inside she was swooning.

  She was adorable. Which implied that he adored her. Definitely this was the happiest day of her life.

  Jon’s hand slid from her hip to her belly, his palm warm through her tank top. She wriggled against him a little more and realized he was hard. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Do you want to—”

  “Let’s finish the movie first.”

  The hand on her belly began to move in small, teasing circles, slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts and getting closer and closer to the top of her panties but never quite close enough. Desire mounted inside her and she found it difficult to concentrate.

  “Jon…” she said, moving restlessly.

  “Watch your movie,” he whispered in her ear.

  He slid his hand into her underwear. He started to stroke her, and she gave up any pretense of watching the screen and spread her legs for him. He made an approving noise as he slicked his fingers along her sex.

  She moaned as he slid a finger inside her. He stroked her gently, steadily, lovingly, and it wasn’t long before she was quivering on the edge of climax. He nuzzled her ear and whispered dirty beautiful things to her as he pushed her over the edge. She fell back against him afterward, limp and exhausted. After a few minutes she opened her eyes and realized the film had finished.

  “I missed the end. Did you like it?” She twisted around so she could look at him.

  “It was the best movie I’ve ever seen.”

  She laughed.

  “Come to bed, Gabby.”

  He made love with her again, then turned her on her side and curled his body around her and held her close. They talked quietly about what they might do tomorrow—drive to the beach, maybe eat fish and chips on the sand—and she slowly drifted off to sleep feeling warm and sated and precious.

  Best. Day. Ever.

  THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSED IN A blur of great sex and laughter. Gabby couldn’t remember when she’d been so happy. Jon stayed at her place every night. They worked their way through her favorite take-out places and decided that Thai was the best so they had it two nights in a row. She made him watch more of her favorite movies and he retaliated by taking her to the motor show at the exhibition buildings in the city.

  When Saturday rolled around again, she felt as though she was living in a bubble of happiness. Having Jon in her life was like upgrading from a cathode tube TV to a plasma screen—everything was brighter, sharper, crisper. Every day brought new discoveries. The fact that he was incredibly ticklish behind his knees and would literally howl for mercy if she attacked him there. The knowledge that he wouldn’t eat brussels sprouts no matter what the inducement. The growing realization that despite his size and controlled demeanor, inside he was incredibly sensitive and gentle and kind.

  They spent Saturday putting the finishing touches on the living room, sanding and painting the walls and patching the floor. Jon came up with the clever idea of stealing floorboards from her closet to fill the holes created by the removal of the wall, claiming that a patch in the closet would be less noticeable than new floorboards in the main room. The result was a near perfect match and they celebrated with dinner at a small but expensive Italian restaurant.

  “One of us should really learn to cook,” she said as they scooped up the last of their shared dessert, a mouthwatering tiramisu.

  “I’d hate to force you into such a traditionally feminine role,” Jon said, deadpan.

  “Funny. I was thinking exactly the opposite thing about you.”

  They went home and shared her bathtub before making love and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

  Gabby woke with a start in the early hours. For a moment she didn’t know what had disturbed her, then Jon moved restlessly beside her.

  “No. Please. Please.”

  Dread thumped in her belly. Another nightmare.

  “Jon. Wake up,” she said, shaking his shoulder firmly. His skin was damp with sweat, the muscles beneath his skin tense.

  Jon’s eyes snapped open. She could see the exact moment reality descended on him. It was a dream. I’m in bed. Gabby’s here.

  He closed his eyes for a beat. Then, without looking at her, he stood and left the bedroom.

  Dread thumped in her belly again, but she shook it off. This was hard for him. She had to be patient. Whatever issues Jon was battling, they weren’t going to go away overnight, and his attitude was not going to do a one-eighty shift so quickly, either. But he wasn’t in this alone now.

  She was no expert, but he was clearly dealing with the aftereffects of trauma. It was likely he needed help, to talk to someone who understood these things. Knowing him, it would be an uphill battle to convince him to seek professional help, but she was determined. For both of their sakes.

>   And the first skirmish in that battle was to get Jon to stop closing doors between them so she could, at the very least, offer him the comfort he so desperately needed.

  She pulled on her robe then tapped on the bathroom door.

  “Jon?”

  There was a long silence. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She stood, undecided. He had a right to privacy, but her gut told her that nothing good or productive was happening in there.

  “I’m coming in.” She opened the door.

  Jon sat on the edge of the tub, his muscles tight, his legs braced wide, his back bowed. Atlas, shouldering an impossible burden.

  Her heart swelled with compassion. He glanced at her briefly before looking away. She knelt beside him on the cold tile and put her hand on his knee.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” she said softly.

  “It’s nothing you can do anything about.” He kept his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. His leg felt like granite and he was vibrating with suppressed emotion. She had the sense that if he could, he’d fling her hand off and push her away.

  Well. As she’d already acknowledged, this wasn’t going to be easy. “You can’t keep going on like this. And please don’t tell me it’s because you’ve stopped drinking. I know there’s more to it than that.” She kept her voice gentle but firm.

  She had to get through to him somehow.

  “It’ll go away. It did last time.”

  “Last time? You’ve had nightmares before?”

  He nodded, the barest dip of his head. “When?”

  “When I first went to Canada.”

  “Tell me about them. What are they about?”

  His shoulder jerked impatiently. “They’re not worth talking about.”

  “They obviously upset you. That must mean something.”

  He remained silent.

  “Jon. Please talk to me. I’m worried about you. I care for you. I hate the thought of you dealing with all this on your own.”

  “Talking won’t change anything.”

  “It might make it less powerful. Like opening the closet and shining a light on the bogeyman.”

  He shook his head. She knew what he was thinking: that she didn’t understand.

  “Okay. What about Tyler, then? I’m guessing this is about your childhood. Tyler must know what you’re going through—”