Just Jayne

by Ripley Proserpina

I had meant what I said to Klaus. I didn’t need to marry them in the traditional sense to be married to them.

  I was ravenous, having only had a few sips of coffee and burned more energy in the last twelve hours than I had in who-knows-how-long.

  When Klaus and I returned to the kitchen, we found Tennyson, Diego, and Lee had laid out a feast for us, one they joined as soon as they heard us moving around. It was still daylight, but the sun was hidden behind a thick cover of clouds. I stood at the window, eating a piece of bread and cheese and considering how, or if, to bring up what we’d talked about.

  “I want to get married today,” Tennyson said.

  Spinning to face him, I dropped the bread on the ground.

  “I want the same thing,” Klaus said. “I want to commit myself to you for life. Move to Oregon—”

  “Oregon?” Tennyson asked. “What in the world is in Oregon?”

  “It’s close to my family,” Diego mused.

  “And it’s not so very different from England. Wet and rainy.” Lee popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. “It’s a good idea.”

  Tennyson reached into his pocket and held out the ring I’d left on my dresser all those months ago. “I’ve been waiting…” he said. “Hoping… I got a chance to see this on your finger again. Jayne Burns. Will you marry us? For real this time?”

  “All of us, Jayne,” Klaus added quickly. “Just like we talked about. A marriage to each and every one of us. A commitment.”

  Ten looked confused for a second. He stared at Klaus a moment and then he smiled. “We do things now the way we should have done them. And for that, we don’t need a priest, or a certificate, or anything.”

  “Just you,” Lee said, looking at me.

  “And us,” Diego added.

  “So will you?” Tennyson asked. He lowered himself to his knee and held up the ring.

  Like they had the first time, each one of them went to a knee and waited for me to answer.

  “I’ll marry you,” I said. “Today.”

  56

  Tennyson

  We waited for Jayne in the gardens away from the house. There was no wind, a rare occurrence for a house situated at the edge of the moors. But it was as if the world knew we needed the quiet.

  All of us stood in a semi-circle next to the big chestnut tree at the end of the wild flower gardens. A stone path led from the house through the thick of blooms to here, an ancient tree overhung with heavy green leaves.

  I wasn’t a hippie by any means, but there was something perfect about this tree, and the way it stood as a silent sentinel to witness our promises.

  Footsteps clicked against the stone and I peered down the path.

  There. She was in my Smiths T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Somewhere, she’d found a patch of daisies and tucked one behind her ear before gathering them in a bouquet.

  Next to me, Klaus sucked in a breath and Diego cleared his throat. I understood the feeling.

  This was overwhelming.

  When I’d woken up yesterday morning to the ruin of my life, to my broken friends and shell of a home, I never thought I’d be here.

  It was too much to hope for.

  But now…

  I met Jayne’s gaze and smiled. Everything was right.

  She held out her hand, and I took it, making space for her. We all moved in closer, gazing at the woman we loved with wonder.

  “I promise.” My voice shook, and I had to start again. “I promise to love you for the rest of our lives. I will be honest, even when it is hard, and put you before everything—my pride, my fear, my ambition. You’re my wife, Jayne. You have my heart.”

  She smiled at me and took a step forward to kiss me. I put my hand on the small of her back to keep her there a moment.

  Diego cleared his throat again. “I promise to love you for the rest of our lives. I will share with you my fears, even when I’m ashamed of them. I will work every day to show you I’m someone you can trust. You’re my wife, Jayne. You have my heart.”

  He kissed her, looking happier and healthier than I’d ever seen him. Scars. Partial blindness. All it did was make him stronger.

  “I promise to love you for the rest of our lives,” Klaus said. “You are my partner. My friend. The person who gives me strength and purpose, and who taught me how to forgive myself. You’re my wife. Ich liebe dich. You have my heart.” Then, the man who’d only been a shell of himself and who’d allowed rage and fear to fill him while Jayne was gone, became the man I always knew he could be. He stood straight and proud. Jayne did that for him. She made him more himself, just like she had with me.

  Lee’s voice was quieter as he spoke. He stopped and started twice, tears rolling down his face. “I promise to love you for the rest of our lives. I will strive every day to be the man you trust me to be. I will protect you and honor you for the rest of my life. You are my love. You’re my wife. You have my heart.”

  Jayne was crying when she kissed him, but when she stepped away, she was smiling. Laughing, she threw her arms out, and we went to her, lifting her up. Arms entwined, we surrounded her. This was what I’d hoped to have my whole life. A family. Love.

  And Jayne had given it to me.

  The night of our wedding we stayed in the garden, making plans for our future. Lee was bursting with ideas and maybe it was from the wine and our combined happiness, but I’d never heard him speak so much.

  Or with such hope.

  Jayne glowed, and I liked to think it was from us. From me. I knew I’d never been happier.

  This just felt right. I thought our first wedding, the one where I was going to legally marry her, would be like that, but it hadn’t. Not just because of Mason showing up and all of our secrets coming to light, but because it hadn’t really been meant to be.

  We weren’t meant to marry her under a lie. We were meant to marry her like we’d done today: in the open, declaring our love for each other like fucking hippies beneath a fucking chestnut tree.

  I was taking that tree to Portland. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t care how much it cost, but it was happening. Maybe someday our kids would get married under it.

  The thought made a lump form in my throat.

  And made my dick swell.

  I really wanted to get started on making those kids. “I want kids,” I said. Jayne choked on her wine, spraying her jeans, and Klaus patted her on the back.

  “Okay,” she said when she could speak. “I want kids, too.” She glanced at Lee, and her cheeks grew rosy.

  Cheeky bloody bastard.

  I faked a yawn, made it look real good with my arms stretched and mouth open and everything. “Now?” I asked, and my friends burst into laughter.

  Jayne’s cheeks were on fire, and she put her wine glass on the grass to cover them with her hands. “Ten!”

  “Jaynie, I haven’t had sex in so long, I’m not sure I remember how. Fuck yes, right now.”

  I held out my hand and winked at my friends. They’d already gotten their time with her. I got tonight. I’d been a cracking mate about everything, and it was time to collect my reward.

  Between Jayne’s thighs.

  Taking my hand, my red, scarred hand, she got to her feet and met my eyes. All the humor went right out of me then. This was my wife.

  “Night, everyone,” I said, not looking away from her. “See you in the morning and not a moment before.”

  Jayne giggled and waved to my friends. I tugged her hand, wrapped my arm around her waist and hurried her inside. Instead of taking her to the bedroom, though, I detoured into the studio.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, glancing around. She frowned when she saw the state it was in.

  None of us had touched an instrument since we’d released her song. A week after she’d left, we’d made that desperate attempt to reach her. It was the last time we’d played together. Instruments were strewn all over the place, since by then we’d fired everyone except the sound guys.

  Just showed what a s
hitty job we did taking care of ourselves.

  “I want to play something for you,” I said. Since her arrival last night, the lyrics had been running around my head. I picked up an acoustic guitar and stretched my fingers. They were stiff, and I’d probably make a thousand mistakes, but I wanted to try. Slowly, I tuned it, ear cocked toward the instrument.

  She settled onto the floor and leaned back on her hands. The daisy was still behind her ear, and I was tempted to pluck it out.

  Playing around for a minute to find the chords I wanted, I watched her watching me. She was patient, her gaze on my fingers and then on me as I tried to put together what I wanted to say. My voice wasn’t smooth like Diego’s, I was strictly backup and lyrics, but for her, I could sing. “Baby, come closer/There’s nothing between us anymore/No more lies/Let the past go.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, and I went on.

  “Baby, come closer/There’s nothing like your touch/You’re the rain/Washing my hurt away.”

  She knee-walked to me, and I set the guitar aside to go to my knees before her.

  “I should be begging your forgiveness, but Lee told me, no more I’m sorries.”

  “No more I’m sorries,” she whispered in agreement before kissing me.

  Her touch was the rain, and as her fingers crept beneath my shirt, skimming my stomach before trailing around to my back, she did just as my words had yearned for her to do. She washed all the hurt away.

  With a groan, I touched her back, supporting her as I moved over her.

  “Tennyson Blake, you are a poet.”

  I kissed her, smiling against her lips. I never smiled as much as I did with her. No matter what I said, what I did, she loved me.

  “I love you, Jaynie.” I pulled away from her, staring down at her. What I felt might have been more than love. It bordered on adoration. Obsession. But it wasn’t dark. It only filled me up and made me whole. Better.

  Her fingers tickled my stomach as she struggled to undo the button on my jeans. I went back to kissing her because her lips were my favorite. She bit my lower lip, minx, and then parted my lips with her tongue just as I parted her folds with my fingers.

  “Ten!” she gasped and arched her back. It was perfect, opening her to me more so I could push my fingers inside her.

  “Too many clothes,” I said, and went to work getting rid of them. In seconds, we were skin to skin and then, seconds later, I was home. Inside her.

  I held myself there, eyes shut, absorbing every sensation like I could memorize it.

  She let me. Her hands were soft over my skin, trailing down my back and then back to my neck. Beneath me, though, she writhed.

  Maybe it was wicked, but I held myself there a little longer than I thought I could, just to feel her straining against me. She wanted me to move, but she wouldn’t ask.

  Slowly, so so so slowly I thought it would kill me, I withdrew from her wet heat. She chased me, hips following my retreat and then countering my thrust.

  I kissed her, thrusting into her mouth the same way I was thrusting into her body. She returned my strokes, her tongue grazing mine, fingers digging into my skin as we both climbed higher and higher.

  Grabbing her knee, I pushed it to the floor to open her even wider. I drew back, wanting to see her when she fell apart.

  It was the best thing I ever saw.

  She gripped her breast in one hand, squeezing it tightly, and I pushed her hand aside, replacing it with mine. Her skin was dewy with sweat and her mouth open as she began to come around me.

  I tweaked her nipple before sucking it hard into my mouth and she cried out. Her inner muscles contracted and released, igniting my own orgasm.

  Groaning, I came. She held onto my ass, keeping me inside her as she rode it out.

  God, she was fucking perfect. I’d done nothing to deserve her, but I’d spend the rest of my life trying to.

  “Jaynie,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. “Do you think that did it?”

  Her voice was breathless when she answered. “Did what?”

  “Made a baby.” I was softening, but in ten minutes, probably less, I’d be ready to go again. “Think we made a baby?”

  She smiled up at me, knees sliding along my thighs to wrap around my hips. “Let’s try again. Just in case.”

  And like that, I was hard. Who said thirty-something-year-olds had slower recovery time? My wife said, let’s go, and so did my dick.

  I was one lucky bastard.

  57

  Jayne

  Seven Years Later

  Lee gripped my hand, fingers holding mine hard as the announcer read their names. “And Album of the Year goes to… Rochester’s Pathos, Dreams and Dawn!” I launched myself to my feet, which was saying something since I was a billion months pregnant, and clapped like crazy. Lee stood next to me, kissing me gently before passing me to Klaus, and then Diego, and finally Ten. They probably used up their acceptance speech time with kisses, but from their smiles, they didn’t care.

  “Mom!” Sophie jumped up and down next to me as they took the stage. A teenager now, she resembled her biological father more and more with every passing day. She and Diego shared the same dark eyes, always sparkling, and long, chestnut brown hair. She had his kindness, and compassion, and joy. “They did it, Mommy!”

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me, and then kissed her hair. She was as tall as me, but she’d always be the little girl who’d thrown herself in my arms as I walked up the driveway of her grandparent’s house so many years ago and whispered, “I knew you’d come back.”

  Sitting back in my seat, I watched the loves of my life climb the stairs to accept their award. They looked so handsome, clad in identical tuxes which somehow managed to look classic and rock and roll. Diego wore his eyepatch with pride, a rock star pirate, and girls in the audience screamed his name. Used to it, I merely giggled.

  Behind me, someone patted my shoulder. “Congratulations.”

  This accomplishment belonged to them, but I smiled all the same. Inside my belly, my baby rolled and kicked as if he could sense my excitement. I smoothed my hand down the silk of my dress, pressing down on the place I’d felt his little elbow or knee.

  “We have a few people we want to thank,” Lee spoke for them, as he always did, leaning into the microphone. “First our label, Spinderelle Records, and producer, Marquette Marseilles, thank you for your support. Our beautiful daughter, Sophie, who keeps us grounded and never lets us think too highly of ourselves. Thank you to our twins, Henry and Dash, we love you. And we love it when you bang on the piano and shred on guitar. You guys make music more fun than it’s ever been.” It could have been pregnancy hormones, but I started to cry. These men worked harder than anyone in the world to create the music that brought people such joy. “But we owe all of this, our music, our creativity, our happiness… to our wife, Jayne. Jaynie, we love you. Thank you for showing us what it means to be a family.”

  They held up their award, looking at me.

  Thank you. I hoped they could see me, because I meant it. Never, when my aunt lied about me and Dr. Moore beat me, did I ever think I’d find a love like this.

  But I had.

  And I had them to thank for it.

  We’d fought, and we’d overcome. All of it, every moment apart, every moment of pain when we thought we wouldn’t see each other again, it’d all been worth it because it led us here.

  To a family of our own design and our happily ever after.

  Acknowledgments

  None of this could have been written without the inspiration of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, a book I may well have memorized I’ve read it so many times.

  I’d also like to acknowledge the following musicians whose talent inspired Rochester’s Pathos:

  Velvet Underground

  Jeff Buckley

  Dierks Bentley

  Blue October

  About the Author

  Author Bio:


  Ripley Proserpina spends her days huddled near a fire in the frozen northern wilds of Vermont. She lives with her family, three magnificent cats, and a dog she doesn’t deserve.

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  Also by Ripley Proserpina

  Books by Ripley:

  Midnight’s Crown:

  Briar

  Shadow of Thorns

  Diadem of Blood and Bones

  The Searchers Series:

  Finding Honor

  Finding Nora

  Finding Valor

  Finding Truth

  Finding Courage

  Finding Strength: Coming Soon!

  Demon Matched Series:

  Matched with a Demon

  Wishes and Curses Series:

  Wrath and Ruin

  Revolution and Rising

  Valos of Sonhadra:

  Whirlwind: http://amzn.to/2EBrRQj

  Standalones:

  The Ice Bride

  Missing Linc

  While Beauty Sleeps

  Co-Written with Rebecca Royce:

  The Storm Series:

  Lightning Strikes

  Thunder Rolls

  The Deluge

  As part of the Wards and Wands universe:

  Meow, Baby