A Notion of Love (16 page)

“It was a pretty sexual dream too, I'm not gonna lie,” Justin went on, still laughing too. He added, “I felt all guilty and shit, like I'd cheated on Aubrey. How ironic, huh? And then when I saw you at prom that's all I could think about.”

“That's why you were so weird that night,” I said. A little life mystery solved. I asked, “Was it my bare hand or with an implement of some kind?”

He answered so quickly I knew he wasn't pulling my leg, saying, “Some little strap thing. And then…oh my God, Jilly…then you pushed me to my back and straddled me and I woke up before the best part. God, I can't believe I just told you that.”

“Wow,” I marveled. “We had a whole subconscious thing going on even back then.”

“Yeah we did,” he agreed. “But you can't tell anyone about the whole spanking thing.”

“I'm not promising,” I said. “And if you piss me off, I know just how to punish you.”

“I'm holding you to that, you little sweet thing,” he said.

We ate dinner on the deck of the cozy Italian restaurant, huge plates of pasta, talking comfortably and laughing. I stole meatballs from his plate, while he helped himself to my mushrooms and bread crusts; I liked to pull out the soft white middle of ciabatta bread, leaving the outer shell, and Justin grabbed these without asking permission, swirling them through the olive oil. When it was time for dessert, he reminded me, “Ice cream at my house.”

We left the restaurant under a sky that was a backdrop for a profusion of glittering stars. Just outside the truck, Justin curved his arms around me from behind, letting me lean back against him to study the heavens for a moment. He felt so secure and strong behind me and I curled my fingers through his and held tight. He bent and tipped his chin against my temple.

“Thanks for dinner,” I told him.

He kissed my cheek and whispered, “Thanks for coming.”

I whispered back, “Well, I haven't yet, but I was hoping to a little later.”

He didn't miss a beat, replying, “More than once, if I have anything to do with it.”

I turned in his arms just enough to nip his chin and he shivered, tightening his arms around me.

“Let's hurry,” I said then. “I think that ice cream is starting to melt.”

Justin laughed and hauled me into the truck, firing it to life and driving out of the parking lot. He teased, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Put your hand on me,” I told him, and he cupped his fingers around my thigh and slipped his palm right under my skirt.

“If you tell me you haven't been wearing panties the entire time, you're in trouble,” he said, sounding a little strangled. “I will pull over and risk indecent exposure charges right here.” His fingers skimmed to the edge of my panties and he breathed out a little. “God, these are so tiny.”

My throat was tight and I was already so wet and ready for him, and we still had to drive miles back home. I played with the idea of straddling him as he drove, but even in the growing red haze clouding my sensibilities, I knew that was too dangerous to risk.

“Slip these down, right now,” he commanded.

I lifted my hips and slipped them down my legs, and then ran my palms softly back up, easing the edge of my skirt even higher. My hands were shaking a little, my heart crashing against my ribs.

“Holy fucking shit,” Justin said with passion.

I couldn't help but smile at that and said, “You should be a poet.”

He laughed then too, shaking his head, his hand again gliding up my thigh. He said, “Here's a poem for you: There once was a woman named Jillian…”

His fingers reached the vee of my parted legs and I gasped a little, but said, “Go on.”

He angled me a blazing hot look. “Whose skin was the softest in all of creation.”

“That doesn't…rhyme,” I managed to say.

“And who drives me absolutely insanely crazy,” he added, stroking with conviction now. I curled my fingers again around the edge of the seat, my head tipped back.

“Oh my God, Justin…”

“Shit, I'm gonna drive off the road,” he said.

“Don't stop,” I begged.

“Honey, I'm just getting started,” he told me.

In his driveway, he had barely put his truck in park before I was in his arms, my panties abandoned on the floor. Justin practically growled into my neck, curling me across his lap, not breaking our kiss as he opened the door, climbed out with me in his arms, and then kicked it shut behind him.

“What will the neighbors think?” I murmured against his lips, my hands in his hair.

“I don't give a damn,” he said back, swinging open the front door and also kicking that shut behind us.

Once inside he carried me through his living room, up a flight of steps and then to the second door on the right. I had a fleeting glimpse of his bed before I was on my back upon it, tearing off his shirt, his jeans, his boxers. I couldn't believe the feelings he called forth from me, but they were so right. I ordered, “Hurry,” as he went to his knees before me on the mattress. I was too impatient to take my dress off and instead slipped up my skirt, naked and so ready beneath it.

His eyes were onyx in the dim light, spear points of desire. He was at once inside me, bracing above me and thrusting deep, taking my chin between his teeth before ravaging my mouth. I moaned and returned kiss for kiss as our bodies crashed together. I felt myself tighten around him with the first few strokes, gasping out his name and clinging to him. Minutes later he groaned and came hard, his mouth open on my left shoulder. He bit down lightly before cuddling me close and rolling us to the side. From a few inches away, our bodies still joined below, he grinned into my eyes and whispered, “Sorry, you had me so revved up in the truck.”

“Don't be sorry,” I scolded. “That was just what I needed.”

“I want you so much,” he told me, his hands spread like starfish on my back, so warm and strong. “In case you didn't notice that. But I don't want you to think that's all I want from you.”

I stroked his gorgeous thick hair like a lazy mama kitty, from scalp to its full length, over and over. I said, “I don't think that. And besides, I want you so much it's all I can think about.”

“Good,” he added, sounding slightly smug. And then, as I slipped my hands from his hair to his neck, “Don't stop. That feels so good.”

I smiled sleepily and resumed my ministrations; a little later he shifted to one elbow and looked down at me, tracing gently along the edge of my face. He said, “Here's what I want to do right now. I want to get us bowls of ice cream and then take a bath. How's that for the second half of a first date? And then,” and his free hand was busy now, cupping my right breast, stroking over my waist, coming to rest on my belly, fingers angled toward my pelvis, “there's a certain sweet little spot on you that I haven't kissed yet.”

I reached and slid my palms across his lower back, gliding over his ass and pulling him over me, tighter into my body. I whispered, “What spot is that?”

“I'll give you a hint,” he said, kissing my lips so sensually that I quivered beneath him.

“Another poem?” I teased against his mouth, shivering in pleasure, loving how he felt inside of me.

Justin eased back and went on, “I would climb the highest mountain, swim the most shark-infested ocean, walk the hottest, sandiest desert…barefoot…”

“You should write some of this down, seriously,” I told him. He was moving within me, but gently, my hands guiding him, pulling him tight with each stroke.

He closed his eyes for a moment, holding himself deeply, and then added, “Hike through a swamp full of alligators…” he groaned as I arched against him, before curving his body back over mine, kissing the corner of my lips. After a moment he added, softly, “There's nothing I wouldn't do.”

An hour later we were up to our shoulders in bubbles, in his deep claw-foot tub. Justin was behind me, my back neatly against his chest in the slippery, honeysuckle-scented water.

“Here, let me help you,” he offered, again soaping my breasts in circles, just under the water.

I giggled and squirmed at his tickling touch. He cupped them both in his strong hands, biting the side of my damp neck and making me squeak. I teased, “I don't know what's more surprising, that you have bubble bath or that it smells like flowers.”

Justin bit me again, then licked the spot and said, “It was from Liz. The kids picked it out for me.”

“Well that's sweet,” I murmured, pressing against his hands, twitching my shoulders a little in an invitation for him to continue stroking me. He did at once, thumbs gliding over my nipples.

“‘Sweet' is my middle name,” he said against my neck, and I shivered at the way his voice seemed to vibrate in my belly.

“I thought it was Daniel,” I said, scooping handfuls of bubbles and then spreading them on the surface of the water.

“Ma wanted to call me ‘J.D.' Isn't that funny?”

I giggled again, imagining that. “It doesn't suit you.”

“Jillian Rae,” he added, again pressing soft, hot kisses along the top of my shoulder.

“That gives me the shivers,” I told him, shivering delightedly.

“I have a few other things in mind too, sweet, sexy, scrumptious woman. If you'll join me.”

We dried each other fast, still damp and practically steaming as he swept me back into the bedroom.

***

Though my
son was fifteen years old, and thoroughly capable of tucking himself in, I still felt slightly guilty as I crept into my apartment at sometime after three in the morning. Justin walked me up the steps that climbed the outside of the garage and we'd spent lovely, lingering minutes kissing good-night. I couldn't let go of him; when at last he tipped his forehead against mine and said, “I better let you get to bed,” I shook my head wordlessly.

His dark eyes smiled into mine and he kissed me one last time, a single soft touch of his lips against my mouth.

“Thank you for the date,” I told him softly, my hands still on his shoulders, his on my waist.

“You're most welcome,” he said. “I'll see you in the morning, Jills.”

I wanted to invite him in so we could wake up together, but certainly couldn't give in to that urge with my son in the same space. At last I conceded, “In the morning, then.”

Justin took my right hand and kissed it, first the back and then my palm, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them everything inside of me surged forward, towards him, wanting him and loving him with more force than I'd even realized possible. I drew in a breath and bit back the words I was longing to say; he would have to tell me first, I would have it that way. It was there in his eyes, strong and true, and my heart crashed against my ribs.

“In the morning,” he promised, and then turned and headed back down to his truck in the parking lot. I leaned over my small railing and watched. Again, he turned back and blew me a kiss before driving away.

June & July, 2003

The next evening I worked dinner for
Mom, knowing I couldn't get out of it every night, despite my desire to shirk all duties and run away with Justin. Anywhere, I didn't care, as long as we could spend the rest of our days and nights braided together in our love. He'd come in for coffee with Dodge in the morning and was hardly up the porch steps before I'd banged out the screen door and he'd caught me in his arms for a hug. Dodge, in his son's wake, stopped and watched us for a moment, grinning as much as I'm sure the womenfolk were from inside the café, where we were clearly framed in the big front windows. But I didn't care.

“High time,” Dodge said as our kiss continued and he cleared his throat in mock sternness and then finally skirted us, making his way inside. He added again, “High time.”

Justin drew back, keeping me in his arms, and he looked so happy that a breath caught in my throat. He looked gorgeous, and smiley, and like himself. Like the Justin of old. Except that now he was my boyfriend, all mine, and my answering smile could have lit up the entire solar system. Just because I could I curled my fingers into his thick hair and roughed it up a little.

He said, “Morning, tomboy.”

“Morning,” I returned. “I missed you a little bit.”

“Just a little?” he teased.

“Maybe a lot,” I murmured, clinging to him. “I wanted ice cream for breakfast.”

“God, me too,” he said with feeling, grinning at me, pulling me close for one more kiss.

***

I was
moony the rest of the day. Intensely so. I found myself gazing into space. Out over the lake, envisioning Justin's dark eyes. Thinking about what we'd discussed. Thinking about the way we'd eaten ice cream in his bed. He had bought caramel with pecans, which he knew was my favorite, despite all his teasing about chocolate. He knew me so well. I stopped about a thousand times to lean in and smell my lilacs, which Justin had picked for me and were now arranged in a tall glass vase on the counter, spilling over and scenting the air with their delicate, delicious fragrance.

“So, how's my little sis today?” Joelle asked at one point. Her tone indicated that she had a pretty damn good idea what I'd spent half the night doing. Besides that, her own glow was emanating at around ten thousand kilowatts, only superseded by Bly's. He couldn't keep his eyes from her. The two of them were about as subtle as a field of fireflies at dusk.

I only smiled in return, but that was enough for Jo's eyebrows to lift and she shook her head.

“He must have gotten past the thinking you were ‘taking pity' on him bullshit,” she murmured, hooking her arm around my waist for a moment. And then, “Any word on the new arrival?”

The Notion had struck me the night before last, when Jo and I had fallen asleep on the couch. Suddenly I'd known, with that bone-deep sense that had never yet been wrong, that someone was coming. I didn't know who, or when, just that someone was. It was an inexact science, for lack of a better term.

“No, nothing new,” I said. “And Justin is…he's…”

“Why Miz Jilly, I do believe you're blushin',” Jo teased, doing her best southern belle.

I felt my face flame even hotter and busied myself with wiping down a table.

“Wow,” she said. “Way to go, Justin.”

***

Justin came
out around eight, just as I was getting done with dinner rush; he'd known I had to work. He sat and had a beer with Gran while I flew home to shower and change. This time I wore a short white sundress and my favorite red flip-flops, again leaving my hair soft and dabbing vanilla-scented perfume on my collarbone and between my breasts. When I reentered the café he was sitting between my grandmother and my son, angled so that he could listen to Clinty going on about something, with Gran looking on, a smile lingering around her mouth. Tish was leaning over the counter on the far side.

At my entrance, Justin turned and angled a grin over his shoulder. Clint was still chattering, commanding Justin's attention, but Tish said, “Hi, Aunt Jilly! So, Justin's your boyfriend now?”

The Queen of Discreet, that one. But I loved that she was blunt; Tish would never hide something from her mother…not like Camille. I loved all three of my nieces equally, but worried more about Milla than the other two. She was secretive, closed off somehow, and I wasn't yet sure how to help her. And if any of Jo's girls were observant enough to catch on to their mother's nocturnal activities, it would for sure be Milla.

“He sure is,” Justin answered Tish. I reached them and rubbed my hand over Clinty's back, then messed up his hair before twining my arms around Justin's broad shoulders, just behind him, and kissing his cheek.

“Hi guys,” I said.

“Hey, Mom,” Clint replied, tipping his head at me in the way he had that meant he was about to ask for something. He and Tish both had the true-blue eyes bestowed upon me by my errant father Mick. I used to tease Jo that the stork had truly intended Tish for me, rather than her and Jackie. Clint already knew Justin was my boyfriend since I'd talked with him about it after lunch earlier today. He'd said, “Cool, Mom” and I was deliriously grateful yet again to have such an easygoing son. He asked, “Does this mean I can drive the motor boat now?”

His tone was so hopeful that Justin and I both laughed, while Tish added, “You get to drive the boat? Can I learn, Aunt Jilly?”

“Ask Justin,” I told her.

Tish turned her gaze to him, folded her hands as though praying and widened her eyes in pleading; that expression had never failed on Jackson, I was sure.

“If your moms say it's all right, I'll teach both of you,” he promised.

“All right by me,” I said.

“Can we take out the canoe for a while right now?” Tish asked then, and this time Gran piped up, “Be sure to grab life jackets first, you two.”

Tish and Clint raced out the door and Gran's face wrinkled into a knowing grin. She added, tapping Justin's leg teasingly with her cane, “You two remember the same thing.”

***

“Did Louisa
mean that I should use a condom?” Justin asked me a few hours later, his voice low and content, after he'd definitely not used one twice since we'd gotten to his house. “Now I'm feeling a little guilty.”

I giggled at his teasing, my cheek on his chest, lazy and drowsy and expecting to hear myself begin to purr any moment as Justin continued to caress my back with soft, languid stokes.

“I think maybe,” I conceded, my eyes closed. I could hear Justin's heartbeat as I lay there, the slow, steady thump of someone who'd just spent the better part of an hour making love. “But don't listen to her. I love feeling you inside me without that in the way.”

“Me too,” he agreed, stroking my hair. And then, “Can you stay the night, Jilly-Anne?”

I felt so good, so warm and satisfied and about to melt into him, but I murmured, “I better not, not yet.”

“Soon, though?” he asked, cupping the back of my neck and massaging. “I'm selfish. I want to hold you until morning.”

I spread my fingers and curled them lazily into his chest hair, then suggested, “I could sneak you into my place. But you'd have to sneak out in the morning, too.”

Justin laughed, his chest vibrating under my cheek. He said, “I could bring a rope and go out the window.” His tone became speculative. “That could work…”

I giggled, saying, “It's not as though Clint would be angry or anything. It would just be a little awkward. But he likes you a lot. He always has.”

“I like the kid too,” Justin told me. He shifted a little, curling me more securely against his chest, then resumed stroking my back. He said, “When I'd see you around town with him after Chris died it always hit me hard. I've worried about you much longer than you'd think, Jilly. For years.”

“I knew you worried,” I said, my eyes still closed. “But you were the first person to make me laugh. That first summer.”

“I was?” he asked. “Well, good.”

I kissed his chest just in the spot where his heart was beating. I confessed, “Speaking of worry. The day of your accident I wanted to chase after Dodge. I wanted to fly to the hospital and make sure you were all right. But I knew I couldn't. That was so horrible, waiting to hear, not knowing.”

He was silent for a moment, no doubt grappling with memories. At last he whispered, “I don't honestly remember much after the battery exploded. It was probably like something out of a horror movie. I was flopping on the garage floor like a hooked fish. God, it burned so bad and I couldn't get it off my face.”

“I was so afraid for you. And after it was so hard to watch you suffer.”

“Jilly,” he murmured, tightening his arms around me.

“I've wanted to touch you for so long,” I admitted, my chin resting on his chest. He stroked my cheek. “That night we sat on the dock and you were so angry. Even though I yelled at you, I really just wanted to touch your face and show you that I wasn't afraid to. And then I was too chicken after all.”

“God, I wish I'd known that,” he said softly. “But maybe I was too angry then. I was so mean to you that night, baby, you didn't deserve that.”

“You weren't mean,” I contradicted, thrilling at the way he'd softly called me ‘baby.' “Besides, I was pretty mean myself.”

“But honest,” he said. “I needed someone to be that way with me. Other than Dad, that is.”

“I'm so glad I found you that night,” I told him. “I almost didn't walk that direction.”

“That was when you told me to come back to Shore Leave in the mornings,” he whispered. “That meant so much to me, Jilly.”

I shifted just enough to raise myself to one elbow, our legs braided together. He held me tightly with one arm, and I put my fingertips gently on his face. His eyes closed immediately as I traced over his scarring, only a little hesitant, knowing how self-conscious he still was. I wondered how to convince him that it didn't matter to me, that I loved everything about how he looked. Time, I supposed. And a flare of satisfaction darted through my belly, a radiant burst of happiness at the thought of time with him. He remained almost motionless as my fingers gently stroked the right side of his face, where the marks were red and ridged, and continued down his neck where his work shirt would have been open and exposing his skin that day. His skin was olive-toned, darkly tanned, and the scars had actually become less intense over the years, though they were still obvious. I shifted over his chest to put my lips on him next and he shivered just slightly, eyes still closed, his wide shoulders hunching fractionally in an almost instinctive defense.

“Let me,” I implored in a whisper, pressing soft kisses along the same route that my fingers had just taken. I kissed his forehead and eyebrow, the outer edge of his right eye which was pulled just slightly down, over his cheek and jaw and then his neck, where I paused and breathed in against him, imagining all too vividly what he'd described just few minutes ago, about writhing on the floor of the shop, unable to stop the burning acid from destroying his skin. It made my heart constrict and I moved back up to kiss his temple. In the dimness of his bedroom I might not have noticed, but I felt the warm wetness against my lips in the next second, as tears trailed down the side of his face. He made a sound deep in his chest.

“Justin,” I breathed, my heart clanging hard with love and concern. I was so in love with him, so head over heels over tail over teakettle. I rolled instantly on top of him and hugged him as hard as I could. He shifted suddenly, turning us to the side and wrapping his arms around my waist. I held his head against my breasts, stroking his hair, pressing my lips to him while he sobbed. Terrible, chest-wrenching sobs that I knew had been buried inside of him for years. He clung to my waist, his strong arms like bands of iron around me. I murmured to him, wordless sounds of love, holding just as tightly. And when morning came tiptoeing across the bed on sunny feet, we were still wrapped around each other.

***

Just a
few nights later, Gran, Mom and Ellen held our annual Fourth of July Eve party at the café. Jo and I shared my apartment bathroom to get ready, just like the old days when we fought for space in the mirror. She was wearing a drop-dead-gorgeous green dress that made the jade in her eyes absolutely sparkle. Bly would probably start crying the moment he saw her. I was pretty proud of my own dress, a deep blue number with a tiny skirt and ruffles over my breasts, absolutely designed to make my man fall to his knees. Though I had to make quite a show of enjoying myself dancing, playing eye games with him on the sidelines, before he drummed up enough nerve to brave the dance floor.

“Come here and dance with me, beautiful woman. God, you're making me crazy,” Justin said at last, holding out his arms, as a slow song began.

I moved into them with joy, nagging, “It's about time you got your ass out here on the dance floor.”

“You look insanely gorgeous,” he said, his eyes caressing me in the candy-glow of the lanterns as his hands curved around my waist.

“You're forgiven,” I replied primly.

“This color matches your eyes almost exactly,” he went on, smoothing the material gently over my hips. I curled my fingers around the back of his neck, smiling up into his eyes.

“I'm glad you like it,” I murmured.

“I love it,” he said, low, his eyes so dark and intense that my heart jolted. He added, “And when can we get out of here without offending anyone?”

“Now,” I decided instantly. “Let's go now.”

Fifteen minutes later we were in his bedroom, and the air was super-charged. Even more so than usual. We'd ridden in complete silence on the way to his house, though the space between us was crackling with almost perceptible sparks. My heart was dancing inside my chest, sending hot rushes of blood through me; when he pulled into his driveway my knees were almost too jittery to allow for climbing down. But I needn't have worried; Justin came around the hood like a man on a mission, hauling me by the hand as he led us into the house and up the stairs. Something had shifted and I was clanging with the energy of it.