Silence roared between them. Jon’s head was down, studying the floor as Lauren spoke, but moments later he lifted his head and she saw the tears in his eyes.
“My God, Lauren, is that what you believe? That I hate you for stopping me from killing Stephen? Because I’ll never know if I could have done that? Or if I could have saved his life?” His voice was a whisper that she had to strain to hear.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Her own voice was low and bitter. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Jon. And you’d maybe find it in your heart to have a little pity for me, at least, if you knew the hell I go through every day when I imagine how it would have been if Stephen had taken the opportunity when you were distracted by my scream to turn the gun on you instead of himself.”
She couldn’t hold back the tears now, and great heaving sobs racked her body as she curled into herself in the corner of the settee. She heard the snap of the briefcase closing and thought with desolation that Jon was about to storm out in disgust.
Then his arms were around her, pulling her to him, his lips kissing away the salty pearls of moisture that streamed from her eyes. Her arms went around him and she clung to his warm strength as if afraid he’d vanish if she loosened her grip. Jon pulled her closer, drawing them both down until they lay together on the tweed upholstery, their bodies joined along their whole length, their tears mingling on their cheeks.
“In the Persian Gulf I killed some people, indiscriminately, enemy soldiers who’d have killed me if I hadn’t pulled the trigger first. But it sickened me, so much so that I couldn’t wait to get out of the army when the war was over. I was vulnerable then, and racked with guilt because I hadn’t been there when my father died. So I set about carrying on his work, building Rush Co. into a major player. I didn’t consciously realize what I was doing. But really I was dedicating my life to creating a memorial to him because I hadn’t been the son I knew he wanted.
“You see, he was devoted to the business, and I’d resented him for that as I was growing up. It seemed he always put work ahead of my mother and me, and in my teenage mind, I believed that’s what had driven my mother from us.
“It’s taken a long time for me to realize that it was more complicated than that. But in the meantime, I didn’t just live to continue my father’s work, I became my father. Never taking a day off, never doing anything just for fun. At the risk of sounding like a pop psychologist, I think the farm, the horses, the truck restoration, even the Labrador puppies, were all subconscious attempts to reassert my real self. But they all failed—until I met you.” He paused looking into her face, then captured her lips for a single, brief kiss, and felt the clamor rise in him for more.
“Lauren, through you I glimpsed a world that was more my own. I didn’t want to be company president. But then this whole thing happened with Stephen, and I listened to all he said about the way I was destroying the people I loved, like my father had done, and because I was vulnerable, I believed it all. And I tried to cut you out of my life because I didn’t want to destroy you.”
“You tore my heart out so that you wouldn’t hurt me?” she asked waspishly.
He grinned. “Back to your old sweet self, I see. Yes, that’s about the sum of it.”
“Great. And I suppose you want me to thank you?” Lauren sighed deeply, contentment washing around her as Jon held her in his arms, contentment and a building excitement and desire.
“No. I want you to marry me.”
There, it was out. The question that had caused him more soul-searching and gut-wrenching anxiety than the decision to quit his position at Rush Co. He waited, his breath caught in his throat, for her answer.
“Jon, I couldn’t live in Toronto…I think I’m going to want to paint again!” Her look was exultant, and he knew she’d given him the beginnings of an answer.
“You wouldn’t have to. I’m going to set up a small company, producing replicas of vintage cars—that’s why I left the second set of blueprints for your cottage blank. I think we’ll need a little more room than a cottage built for one.”
Jon had propped himself up on one elbow, and his other hand was doing something exquisite as it wandered under the hem of her sweater. Lauren’s breath grew a little ragged as his warm, strong fingers touched her silken skin, then her own fingers began to play with the buttons of his shirt and she delighted in the darkening of his blue gaze.
“Just one last question,” she asked a mischievous smile on her lips. “The cottage is awful small, you know. What about when the babies come along?”
So he had his answer, in full.
Triumphantly, Jon grinned. “Then I’ll have to build us a castle of our own,” he said, and he lowered his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that promised forever.
The End
About The Author
Glenys O'Connell is a former crime journalist on a daily newspaper and publisher of a community newspaper. Covering serious crimes led her to a degree in psychology and a career as a counselor. She is the author of a number of published romantic suspense and comedy novels and childrens’ books. She has shared her writing skills as a creative writing teacher in third level and online. She has also published several books on mental health issues and is an award winning playwright. After years of travelling and working abroad, she now makes her home in rural Ontario, Canada, with her husband, four grown up children and two spoiled cats. You can read more about Glenys & see her other books on her Amazon page or write to her by email. You can also read the first chapter of some of her books for free here.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Judgement by Fire. I hope you enjoyed Jon and Lauren’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you had time, it would be wonderful if you would consider putting a review up on Amazon – every writer gets a boost out of seeing reviews by readers!!
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