by Tamryn Ward
“That’s a good start but I was thinking more along the lines…” He stepped closer and Jane found herself back-stepping away. “…of a home cooked vegetarian dinner.” His chest inches from Jane’s chin, he tipped his head and whispered, “What do you say?”
Monica stepped in, catching Bill’s arm as he lifted it, no doubt intercepting his touch to Jane’s face. “Jane there’s had a change of heart and has gone all Atkins on me. The good news is she gave me all her old cookbooks, and with power, I can get my way around a kitchen with the best of them.”
His attention diverted, he backed away from Jane enough to allow her to breathe again. “Can you make a decent Reuben?”
“The best!” Monica said exuberantly. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs. “I’m on a first name basis with the delivery boy for Mike’s Market down the street. I can get the ingredients here in two snaps.” She illustrated with a couple of saucy finger snaps.
Several steps behind them, Jane pondered her getaway, choosing the moment Monica dialed the market to gather her donuts and bagels and break the news that she was leaving. Monica mouthed, “Thank you.” And waved. She didn’t look the least bit put out.
But Bill did.
Certain he wouldn’t be sorry for long, Jane made an excuse about a dog she didn’t really own needing to be let out, and made good her escape. Just before she headed out the door, Bill cornered her and whispered, “I’ll call you.” A little bit guilty for using him the way she had, but not interested in feeding his interest, she simply smiled and said, “Enjoy your meal with Monica. She’s nothing like you’d expect when you first meet her.”
His knowing nod suggested he understood exactly what she was implying.
Satisfied she’d set him straight, Jane trudged into the snowstorm, started her car, and swept off the inch or so that had accumulated on the windshield in the short time since she’d returned from the donut place.
Top speed as she drove home was about ten miles per hour. A self-proclaimed snow wimp, she fought to keep her zippy new car on the road as all-wheel-drive trucks barreled past her, blinding her with the mud-tinged slush they threw off their wheels. Thanks to a fear of freeway driving during snowstorms, her trip home was long and exhausting, and thanks to getting very little sleep the night before, she was ready for bed the moment she pulled into her parking space.
Safe, warm, and prepared to hunker down and ride out the storm, she carried her goodies into the kitchen, took the most direct route to her bed she could find and, after changing into her favorite sweats, climbed into bed and buried herself in the blankets. It took her no time to fall asleep.
As she drifted off, she heard Jason’s voice. He was calling her name. No, he was doing more than that.
Unclothed from the waist up, he was bent over her, whispering, “Jane, let me show you how beautiful I think you are.”
Instantly tingly and breathless, eager to feel his weight pressing upon her but equally guilty and confused, she asked, “But what about Monica?”
“You know as well as I do that we’re through. We have been for a long time. Neither of us wanted to admit it, even after we broke up.” He sat back and gathered her hands in his. His grip was warm, firm, his expression sober. “It took something extreme for us to sever the last bonds.”
“But I’m her friend.” She wiggled her fingers in his hands, not really wanting to pull them free but knowing she should. “Even if you’ve broken up, I don’t date my friends’ ex-boyfriends. It’s just not right.”
“But I love you. And so does Monica. She wants us both to be happy.” He kissed each fingertip then released her hands. He bent lower and kissed her, his tongue teasing the corners of her mouth before plunging inside. She heard her breathing quicken, felt the rush of warmth wash up her chest and over her face. A slight but steady throb began between her legs as his hands plunged under her shirt and found her breasts. He pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefingers and she moaned. He nibbled on her neck and she squirmed with pleasure. He pressed a knee between hers, and she rocked her hips back and forth, rubbing away the ache of need growing by the second.
“Oh God,” she moaned, surprised by the swiftness of her reaction to his touch. She couldn’t stand waiting any longer. She wanted him. All of him. “Please make love to me.”
He pulled off her sweatpants and knelt before her, a hand on each knee. He gently pressed, urging them apart. Just before he lowered his head for his first taste, he whispered, “I think you’re the most beautiful, intelligent, perfect woman on earth.”
“Now I know I’m dreaming,” Jane said aloud, waking herself. Blinking and horny from her dream, she looked at the window on the opposite side of the wall. “Perfect? Me? What a joke. What am I thinking?” Recognizing it was dark, and curious to see how long she’d been sleeping, she turned to look at the clock. Eight o’clock. In the evening, she assumed. She found the remote on her nightstand and turned on the TV, not surprised to see weather updates on all the local channels.
Today’s storm had dumped over a foot of snow in most parts of the city and more was expected. Several thousand people were without power.
She wondered how Monica was doing.
More than that, she wondered what Jason was doing.
* * * * *
Jason watched the white van, marked Bill’s Electric, pull out of Monica’s driveway as he turned the corner of her street. Was Monica having electrical problems? Why hadn’t she called him like she usually did?
Out of habit, he eyed the guy driving the van as their vehicles passed. In passing, the guy looked young. He had a smart-assed grin on his face, which made Jason feel uneasy. Had he taken advantage of Monica somehow? Anxious to find out, he pulled into her driveway then shut off the car and took long steps through the deep snow to her front porch. Vowing to clear the front walk and the empty half of the driveway after he made sure she was okay, he rang the doorbell.
She answered the door in her bathrobe. Her hair was a tangled mass of waves, dry but tousled like she’d just gotten out of bed. Her expression quickly changed from glee to surprise. “Oh my gosh! Jason.”
He didn’t miss how her gaze hopped from his face to over his shoulder and he turned and looked back to see if someone or something was behind him. “Hi, Monica. Were you expecting someone else?”
“No…I…uh…the electrician just left. I didn’t have power this morning. Jane called him for me.”
“Jane? Is she still here?” he asked, still standing on the porch because Monica hadn’t invited him in yet. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven.
“No. Why? Are you looking for her? She left a…while ago.” Monica lifted a hand and started chewing on a manicured nail. That was a telltale sign that something was wrong.
“What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.
“Then why haven’t you invited me in?”
“Oh!” She pushed open the storm door and stepped aside. “Sorry. I’m just a little slow today. Hangover. You remember last night.”
“Yeah. I came to check on you.” He walked into the living room and feeling like he might find someone there, looked to the left and right. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The room was empty but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Monica was hiding something.
“That’s very sweet. I’m fine. As you can see.” She tightened the belt on her robe.
“Actually, I can’t.”
Her eyes got huge.
“But I’ll take your word for it,” he added. “So, you say you didn’t have power this morning? What was wrong?” He walked through the living room toward the kitchen.
“Um…something about the main breaker being tripped,” Monica answered, following him.
“That’s all?”
“Yep. Only took the electrician a minute to switch it back on, thank God. It was frigid in here with no heat. He said a surge might have triggered it. He
checked everything else and said it looked fine.”
“And that took…what? Ten hours? He must have been very thorough.”
“Yes…he sure was,” she said tensely.
As Jason neared the kitchen, the scents of toasted bread and pickles filled his nostrils. “And you cooked while you were waiting? You never cook for yourself.”
Something was fishy here, and it wasn’t in the fry pan.
“I was hungry?” she suggested with a shrug.
He noted the set of two plates, two glasses and two forks in the sink. Turning, she followed his gaze. “I…had seconds.”
“Corned beef? What are you not telling me, Monica?”
She sighed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I’m eating red meat these days?”
He answered her quip with a scowl.
“Okay.” She sighed. “We need to talk.”
“Let me guess. You slept with the electrician?” he said, summing up his suspicions. He was shocked by how little those words hurt as he spoke them.
“Yes I did.”
He was even more shocked by how little her confession bothered him. It was as if he didn’t care an iota. “I see.”
“But that’s not what we need to talk about.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat at the table. She motioned for him to take a seat across from her. “Do you want something to drink first?”
“No. I think I should be sober when I hear this.” He sat and waited for her to speak. He wasn’t overly anxious, in fact, he realized he became more emotional during business transactions than he was at the moment.
“I think we both know by now that the wedding is off,” she said.
“I’m gathering that, although it would’ve been nice if you’d told me before sleeping with someone else.”
Looking guilty, her gaze lowered, she nodded. “I’m very sorry about that. Honest. It was a thoughtless, impulsive thing to do, you’re right.” She bit her lip and pulled at a fraying edge of her placemat. “But in my defense, I wanted to tell you last night. I just didn’t know how to. And you looked so hurt…and we were at a party…I didn’t think it was the right place…and I was sloshed…I’m sorry.” She looked as forlorn as she sounded, and he knew she wasn’t putting on an act for once. “There are so many things you don’t know about me.”
“Like what? We’ve dated for a long time,” he reminded her. “Up until recently I thought I knew you pretty well.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I want you to go on with your life. I’ve manipulated you long enough.”
“You got away with manipulating me only because I let you,” he admitted. He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but it was the truth. She’d used his sense of pride and stubborn determination to stand by his word to force him into doing things he probably normally wouldn’t have done.
“Maybe. But I feel like a creep. I can’t hold you to a promise that neither of us wants you to keep. I lied. I don’t want to be married, at least not for the reasons I’d told you.”
Her confession didn’t surprise him. Deep in his gut he’d known that all along, but a man of his word, a man who lived by a promise, he couldn’t allow himself to back out. It would’ve gone against everything he believed himself to be.
But now, as she sat before him, offering him the freedom he’d secretly longed for, he felt guilty. Would she be okay? “What’re you going to do? Continue sleeping with the electrician?” he asked, needing to hear some reassurance she wouldn’t be alone, unhappy.
“It doesn’t matter. At least I won’t be hurting you anymore. We don’t work, Jason. You know that. I know that. Why can’t we just accept it and move on? Just because we’ve invested a year in this doesn’t mean we can’t let it go. Love isn’t something a couple thinks about and plans…it’s something they feel—”
“Bull. Love isn’t a feeling. It isn’t some silly, here-today-gone-tomorrow emotion. It’s a commitment to take care of one another and respect each other forever. That’s what’s wrong with people these days. They follow the whims of their hearts, they act on feelings that are prone to change as quickly as the weather.”
“Let yourself be free,” Monica pleaded.
“Free? Of what?”
“Of logic, and should-be’s, and must-do’s.” Monica sighed and met his gaze. “You’re a human being, not a machine. Let yourself act like one. Let yourself feel, believe in the impossible, act on an impulse. It’s the only way you’ll get what you’re looking for out of life.”
“That’s nonsense. A cop-out. Only children or people afraid of responsibility believe you should act without thinking. Where would our world be if everyone acted like that? There would be mass confusion. No order. No law.”
“I have thought about this. A lot, for your information. And I don’t believe for a minute that—”
“Okay. Then tell me, where’s the logic in your decision? Don’t tell me you actually thought about it before you climbed in the sack with your electrician.”
“Yes. Of course I did. I thought about it and decided to follow my heart.”
He laughed. “You thought about it for all of three seconds, I’m sure. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not upset about what you did. If you say we’re over then we’re over. What bothers me is how you’re preaching to me that I need to change when you clearly need to get a handle on your own life. You threw away a relationship for a screw with a stranger. A year should’ve meant more to you than that,” he said, repeating what he’d been telling himself for hours last night as he lay sleepless in bed, afraid of falling asleep and dreaming about the wrong woman. “I guess it meant more to me than it did to you.”
“No it didn’t. But I’m willing to accept that history is history. It doesn’t have to dictate our future. We must do what’s right for both of us, and for Jane.”
“Jane? What does she have to do with this?” He sat mute for a moment, not sure what to say next. Then, an idea took shape. “Is that what this whole switching thing was? Some kind of complicated way to dump me? Because if it was, you sure wasted a lot of time and energy. We were as good as over before all this switching nonsense began.”
She stood and walked to the counter, filling a glass with juice from the pitcher sitting next to the stove. “We weren’t over. You were mad about your grandmother’s stuff but eventually you would’ve gotten over it and we would’ve gotten back together again, like we have so many times before.”
Unable to sit, thanks to the nervous energy pulsing through his body in waves of jittery heat, he stood. “So it’s true? You did create this complicated farce to get rid of me.” He laughed, long and hard. “You poor thing. No wonder you said you’d been thinking about having sex with that guy for a long time. You were waiting. Funny, though. It would’ve been a lot quicker to sleep with your electrician and let me catch you like you did today.”
“No. I’m convinced the switch was for Jane and me. We both needed to learn some lessons. It had nothing to do with you.”
“It had everything to do with me.” He felt the heat of frustration churning his insides and creeping up his neck. “How can you say it didn’t?”
She set her glass in the sink and stepped closer to him. He could see she wanted to reach out and touch him but resisted. Her arm lifted then dropped. Then she crossed both over her chest. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. Like I said last night, I think Jane and I both love you, just in different ways. You deserve so much more than what I could give you, but Jane—”
“So you cooked up a scheme to shove me off onto your good pal, Jane. No guilt.”
Her eyes staining pink with unshed tears, she shook her head. “No, I swear, it wasn’t like that.”
“I’m so tired of trying to figure out what that was all about, what you two were up to. I’ve had enough.” Not even close to being calm anymore, he walked to the front door. Just before he opened it, he shouted in frustration, “All I want to know is who is the woman I fell in love with? Why is it so har
d to figure that out? Hell, does she even exist?”
Much calmer, Monica followed him to the door. “Jason, you know the answer to that. Just listen to your heart for once and leave your head out of it. Close your eyes and think about the woman you love. But don’t imagine what she looks like, imagine who she is deep inside. That is the part of her you’ve fallen in love with.”
In the middle of Monica’s foyer, he closed his eyes and tried to do as she suggested. Who was the woman he loved? If he blanked out her face and just thought about her, what was she like?
“Tell me. Describe her.”
“She’s funny and clever, witty and strong. Intelligent, responsible. She wants what I do in life, marriage, a family. I can talk to her about anything. She’s my friend, my lover. I can’t stop thinking about her. I want to know everything there is to know. And I want to share every moment with her.” He opened his eyes.
Monica smiled and nodded. “And who do you think that is? We both know that isn’t me.” She took his hands in hers. “If you never listened to a word of my advice, listen to me now. You need to go to her and tell her how you feel. Pronto.” Releasing his hands, she opened the door and gently pushed him through it. “Goodbye, Jason. Make her happy. She deserves it.”
He closed the door and inhaled the crisp air. And for the first time in his life, he closed his mind and opened his heart. Yes, he knew the answer to his question and yes, he would go to her. And he would spend the rest of his life making her happy if she let him. He had the perfect gift in mind, too. One that would show her exactly how much he loved her.
Chapter Seventeen
Monica breezed into work Monday morning, sat her butt on Jane’s desk and proclaimed, “I slept with Bill.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Jane asked, motioning for Monica to move so she could get back to work on her latest project. It was due by the end of the day and she was just now starting it. “Forgive me, but I don’t have time to chit-chat about your sex life.”
“But I thought you’d be happy to hear—”