

by

Mareta L. Miller
Telling Me With Roses

(Book 1 in the Ninety-Nine Roses series)

Smashwords Edition July 2015

Copyright © 2015 by

Mareta L. Miller

Photographs by Alizabeth D. Kaminski

This is a work of fiction. All names, locations, and characters are fictitious and are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address the publisher at: PO Box 12573 Las Vegas, NV 89104
1 rose signifies the moment I met you, I knew it was love at first sight.

3 roses, a way to say that I love you, when afraid the time wasn't right.

24 roses, the hours a day you should know that you're on my mind.

99 roses says "I'll love you forever," until the end of time.

Julia

I STIR FROM MY SLEEP as I hear rustling in the closet. As soon as he sees me moving he comes over to the bed, lying across it on his stomach, and kisses my neck, following the curve down to my bare chest. When he reaches my breast, he pauses and looks up at my face.

"Good morning, my beautiful wife."

He says something like this to me every morning, and it never gets old. I never tire of the many small terms of endearment he utters to me because they are not routine and meaningless, and each one is heartfelt and genuine.

"Good morning, babe. I don't want to get up." I drape my arm over my eyes in an act of denial and disobedience.

"Do you need my help getting up this morning?" As he says this, his hand drifts up my leg and settles between my thighs, not quite touching my opening but grazing its boundaries. In the end, I will, in fact, get out of bed but his question is less aimed at simply getting me up, but rather getting me off.

Glancing over at the clock, I look back at him. "We don't have long, Mr. Morreau."

"Mmmmm, we don't need long, Mrs. Morreau," he says, as he takes my nipple in his mouth while he closes the final distance and drives his fingers inside me. "You are always so ready in the mornings, it's no wonder I love waking up to you every day."

A moan escapes me as he continues the motion with his finger. I never want to get up, and he knows this. But he also knows that after morning sex, there is no chance of me falling back to sleep. He's happy, I'm awake, and starting the day with an orgasm never hurt anyone.

He moves to where he's on top of me and wedges himself so that he's nestled between my legs. He kisses me deep even though I still have the taste of sleep in my mouth. I don't think I will ever tire of this and after almost ten years, just the thought of me naked still excites him. He pushes himself into me holding his mouth to mine. I think he loves the feel of me sucking his air in as I gasp upon his entry. After all this time, he still has the element of surprise when he first thrusts into me.

We fit together so perfectly, like the notes of a beautiful piece of music. So fluent and so effortless. We were made only for each other. Containing our lust is not a strong trait for either of us and after only a few minutes we are both approaching our point of release. So in tune with each other's bodies, we climb together and finally—ecstasy. We explode together, feeling each other tremble with the force of our orgasms. He falls on top of me struggling for breath. I fight for my own below him.

"Are you awake now, my love?" He says while lifting himself up to take his weight onto his forearms.

"Yes, I am. Thank you very much for your wake-up services once again." I kiss him on his nose and wiggle to get him to move off of me. He resists for a second but kisses me back on my nose and moves off the bed.

I sit up and check my phone and officially turn off the alarm. It's Friday, which always equates to a crazy-busy or better described as stressful-as-hell day for me. But this week has extra-added bonuses.

We have awesome plans for this weekend. Alex, the kids, and I are going camping. We call it camping when really it's going up to our friends' cabin and sleeping in our own tent, but it comes with all the staple camping activities. We get to hike, roast marshmallows, and tell scary stories. The main attraction is that it's out of the city and away from work, home, and studies for a couple of days. We would usually save this trip for the summer but with my schooling coming to an end, we thought it would be a nice finish to it all. My friend says snow is expected for the next few days, and the kids can't wait to go sledding and to build snowmen. This trip is going to be cold but then again, it's still only mid-January.

"Remember, today I need you to drop the kids off at school. I want to go in early to prepare for my last evaluation and interview. I'm going to drive in instead of taking the train today." I can't believe that I'm almost done, that all this is becoming real. After this evaluation I'll have my degree, my internship will end, and my career will begin. I walk over and hug my still naked body to his now clothed one. "This is all happening because of you. You pushed me. You encouraged me to do what I loved, what I wanted." I give him a grateful smile and kiss him.

"I will never be able to thank you enough but now, I need to get in the shower!" I turn to run for the bathroom, and he gives me a playful smack on the ass.

I hold up my finger, "Huh uh, Mr. Morreau. Later, you can officially nail the new editor at Miljone Publishing. But for now, you'll just have to fantasize about it." I blow him a kiss and close the door, shaking my ass and knowing it's driving him crazy.

Since I'm not a long shower person, I emerge about twenty minutes later. Needing only to finish my hair and makeup, I go downstairs, towel still on my head, to make sure the kids are all put together for the day and to help if they're not. As I enter the kitchen, I see my three favorite people in the entire world and remind myself why I have worked so hard and what this final step today means for all of us. Walking over to the table, I step between Toby and Katie. Grabbing them both and squeezing them to me, I plant kisses on the top of their heads and head over to the breakfast bar to fill my coffee cup.

"And how are you two this morning? Homework in your bags, ready for spelling tests?" I get an affirmative head shake from Katie and nothing from Toby. "Katie, spell 'together.'"

"Together. t-o-g-e-t-h-e-r. Together," she smiles as she knows she is correct.

"Very good. Toby, spell 'volcano.'"

"Volcano. v-a-l-c-a-n-o. Volcano."

I come over to Toby and crouch down in front of him. "You have to remember, buddy, 'volcano' doesn't have an 'a' in the beginning, it's an 'o,' okay? You'll do great." I stand and ruffle the hair on his head as I return to my coffee.

Toby and Katie are twins, and though inseparable most days, they couldn't be more different. Things are a little harder for him. He gets it; it just takes him a little longer. He has a mechanical mind, and he works better when things are hands-on. He can't just read about it, he has to do it. What's hard is reminding his sister that it is impolite to remind him that she gets things, especially things like spelling, quicker than he does. She's our book-smart child. She can read about anything and give you a full report in an hour. Oddly enough, and though I'm not a twin, I did the same thing to my brother. She is her mother's daughter, and Toby is his father's son.

After we were blessed with the two of them, we never thought of having more. I had a really hard pregnancy, and I wasn't advised to try it again. We had a son and a daughter, the perfect square. Top it off with a golden Labrador named Sam and a house in the suburbs. Our family was complete.

I head back upstairs to finish getting ready. I've picked out a gray pin skirt suit, a black blouse, and my nothing-but-business black pumps. When I stand back to look at myself in the mirror, the woman looking back at me is professional and confident. Dressed to kill, not a hair out of place, ready to kick ass and take names. "You have this Julia. It's all yours." One last smile at my reflection and I turn to leave the room.

"Okay, everybody, I'm off. Wish me luck. Today means a lot to all of us. Toby, 'volcano' with an 'o' got it?" I chug down the last of my coffee and set my cup in the sink.

"Got it, mom, 'o,'" and he gives me a thumbs-up.

"Katie, remember to be polite, got it?"

"Got it, mom. Good luck on your interview today."

I step back over to the table giving each one of my loves a kiss and hug, ending with Alex, who I always kiss as though it's the last time I'll have that chance. I grab my briefcase, my purse, and my coat and head out the door. When I get to the car, I realize I've forgotten my keys, but then I hear the footsteps of the man I love coming my way.

"Did you plan on getting far without these?" he asks as he dangles the keys from his finger.

"I'm just nervous. On the outside, you'd never know, but in here," I tap the side of my head, "I'm freaking out. I know it will go great. I know what I'm doing. It's just that I've—we've—sacrificed so much, this means so much. What if I don't get it? I just need this to be over. I need to—"

"Believe in yourself," he finishes the phrase for me. He knows me better than I know myself.

"I love you." It's as simple as that. There's no need to recite Shakespeare, to compare what we have to the size of the universe, or to use big words to describe how we feel. I love you, just three little words.

"I love you, babe. I'll be right there with you, right here," he places his hand on my chest, right over my heart. "Now get out of here, or you'll have no time. And not to mention my hand is dangerously close to your tits right now. I could derail both of us."

"Sure, throw out an offer you know I can't accept. Tease!"

"Whatever! I couldn't sway you for anything right now." I just smile because for the first time maybe ever, I'm choosing something else over sex with my husband. "Celebration dinner tonight! Lobster, wine, anything for my woman."

Then one last kiss, that lingers on my lips after we've pulled apart. I get in the car placing all my things on the passenger seat, start the car, and back out of the driveway.

Julia

MOST AREAS OF MY FINAL evaluation have been presented in the form of work assignments over the last few weeks. They were generally proofreads for real pieces of work our company has been hired to edit and publish. When I first started my internship, I would get the same types of work but it was on a check and recheck basis so that I could learn from my mistakes and prove my worthiness. Now my future depends on it and from here on out any mistake that leaves my desk could be for the world to see and for my reputation and the company's to be left tarnished.

My final evaluation is, from what I hear, more of an interview, a recap of my triumphs and failures. Knowing that doesn't stop me from trying to go over all the things I've learned during my internship. I figure it's typical of them to throw a couple of fastball questions and expect a quick catch under pressure. After all, this profession is constantly under the pressure of deadlines and governed by high expectations.

The most important thing is that the decision made today will also define the completion of my degree. To be hired from the intern program would mean everything to me. Alex encouraged me, actually pushed me to go back to school after the twins were born. It was hard, and it moved slowly, only being able to go part-time. It took too much of my time away from my family. So hopefully this day will mean the beginning of something better for all of us.

I get to the conference room ten minutes early. I can only hope that on the outside, I look as confident and kept together as my reflection showed this morning because, on the inside, I think I just might pass out. Suddenly I feel as if I'm going to be sick. I know it's just anxiety. Deep breaths, in and out. I'm going to be fine. I put my hand on my chest and feel what Alex told me earlier, he's with me, right here. The door to the conference room opens, and the editor in chief, Frank Lawson, steps into the doorway.

"Ms. Morreau, would you please come in." He's a very nice man. He's been a mentor for me these last few months. I don't find him intimidating usually, but I know he holds some weight in today's decision. I just hope that I've impressed him enough up to this point.

With a file in his hand, he uses it to point to the large table surrounded by ten chairs, six of which are filled with people that I haven't yet met.

"Please have a seat, Ms. Morreau."

"Yes, sir, thank you."

I take a seat at the front of the table across from the now seven occupied chairs. My stomach continues to knot, but I will get through this. I've worked too hard to mess this up now. I take a deep breath and try to focus on the people seated before me.

Frank introduces the people before me. Basically, they are the board members and investors that profit greatly from the work done here. Though I see their presence as unnecessary, I'm sure that with their financial interests, they insist on being present.

"Ms. Morreau, we have found your time here at Miljone Publishing to be very advantageous. For example, you have proven yourself through the multiple tasks you have been given, completing each within your time constraints. You carry an almost nonexistent error rate and have gained the respect of nearly all of our senior editors. You're very impressive. Have you enjoyed your position here, Ms. Morreau?"

"Yes, I have. Very much. For so long, too long really, this is what I've wanted to do."

"You know that you are only one of five interns we took in this year. You've ranked top five in your class and were highly recommended for this internship. We only have room for one editor on our team and in the past, on occasion, we have elected not to keep anyone from the internship program. After all, grades and good work are only part of a winning combination. We are looking for the best, Ms. Morreau. A person who can hit the ground running, be trustworthy, punctual with deadlines, respectful of the clients, and thorough in their work at all times. That requires passion as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you think you possess these qualities and can bear the responsibilities that accompany a position here at Miljone?"

"Yes, sir, I do. I hope that I have proved that in my time here." The knots in my stomach are nearly unbearable now. Please let this end soon. I don't believe I've ever stressed myself to a point of pain of this magnitude.

"Indeed you have, Ms. Morreau. That's why it is a pleasure for me and my colleagues to offer you a position here at Miljone Publishing." All the faces in the room turn from serious business to smiles, and I'm sure mine does the same.

"From this moment on you are no longer an intern, you are an editor and the newest official member of our team." It takes all I have to contain myself. I want to scream and jump around acting like someone who just hit a jackpot. I want to give every one of them a hug, and I'm not one of those _huggy_ people. But in an attempt to remain professional, I simply plaster a smile on my face.

"Thank you, Mr. Lawson, and all of you as well. I will not disappoint you." I stand and move around the table to shake each of their hands. I thank each one because I know this decision had to have received their approval. Even though they know nothing more than what they've been told, if it weren't for each of them I wouldn't be here now.

After they have all made their way out of the room, Mr. Lawson approaches me. "Well done, Julia. I knew you would be the one this time, from the moment I finished your first proofread. Now I want you to go down to personnel and get all your paperwork done. Then I want you to go home for the day, celebrate with your family, and we will see you at eight o'clock Monday morning."

"Thank you again, Mr. Lawson. I can't thank you enough. I won't let you down, I promise."

"I'm sure you won't, you've worked too hard for it. Now, get your paperwork done and get out of here. See you Monday. And from here on out, call me Frank." He turns and walks away, headed in the direction of his office.

My stomach hasn't let up, so him giving me the rest of the day off was a blessing. I hurry to personnel so that I can call Alex and give him this amazing news, although he won't be surprised. He knew I had this.

On the way home I dial Alex three times and each time it goes directly to voicemail. This is odd, he never turns his phone off. Since I've been interning he was the best contact for the kids. He has the flexibility to answer his calls when I don't.

I call his office number and get Lindsay, his receptionist. "Good morning, Lindsay. It's Julia, can I speak to Alex, please?"

"I'm sorry, Julia, but he never came in today." There is an odd hesitation in her voice like she's delivering troublesome news.

A stab of pain shoots through my stomach making me cringe so hard that I almost lose control of the car. I pull over to the side of the road, holding my abdomen and feeling light-headed.

"What do you mean, he never came in? Did he call? Did he have business out of the office this morning that maybe you've forgotten?" I know I'm starting to sound frantic, maybe even psychotic. I just keep firing off questions without giving her a chance to answer.

"He just never came in, I don't know. It's not like him at all not to call. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to say, Julia. I'll let him know you're trying to reach him if he shows up." I can hear the atonement in her voice.

"Ok, thank you." It's all I can manage, and I hang up.

I know that Alex is not screwing around behind my back. That is never a concern. But where is he and why isn't he answering his phone? And why won't this pain go away?

I decide to go home, maybe he's there. Maybe one of the kids got sick, and he's there with them. Maybe he didn't call because of my meeting. I'm sure that's it, he's got to be at home. But why didn't he call work? I pull up in the drive, and his car is not there. What is going on? I get out of the car and head to the house. I run from room to room throwing open doors. "Alex! Toby! Katie! Is anyone here?" Nothing. No one.

Only Sam runs up to greet me. I'm starting to panic now. The pain is getting worse. I get to the couch and sit. I try to take deep breaths with my head between my knees, but they all come up too short. My vision fades and blurs. I'm going to pass out. That's my last conscious thought.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Banging. I hear banging followed by Sam's barking. I come to, and I'm confused. I'm at home. Why? I look around, disoriented, trying to recall what happened. The pain in my stomach has dulled but is still there. Again, the banging. I realize there's someone at the door. I try to right myself and stand. I'm a little unsteady, but I can get to the door. I push Sam back, and I open it to find two officers. The pain quickly intensifies. Why are they here? Where. Is. Alex?

"Mrs. Morreau?" one of them, a female, finally says.

"Yes, officer. Can I help you?"

"Are you Julia Morreau?" I nod. "May we step inside for a moment, Mrs. Morreau?" the other asks. He's a hard-looking older man, nothing but business.

"Of course, come in. Is something the matter, something I can help you with? I'm really not feeling very well." My words come out light as a feather, my breath short again. I know now that something is wrong, very wrong.

I motion for them to sit, and they ask me to sit as well. This is not good. Where is the air dammit? I. Can't. Breathe.

"We have some news, Mrs. Morreau. There was an accident," the male officer says. He's very straight and to the point, showing no reserve and no sympathy.

My breath catches and I lift my hand to my mouth. There is only one reason they come to your house to tell you things like this. Tears start to fill my eyes, so I look down, but nod for them to continue.

"There was no time to save them." The female says in a much softer tone.

I stop listening. Them. More than one. The most precious people in my life are gone. I'm pulled back by the sound of the officer saying my name more loudly than before. He's trying to bring me back to a place I'd rather not be. Again I nod.

"My daughter? My son? My husband?" Each question is a whisper giving them no time to answer.

"All of them, Mrs. Morreau. I'm sorry." He's softer now, the rough authority having left his tone. I can now hear pain in his voice. The regret of having to be the one delivering this news. I shouldn't be mad at him, but I am. I want to hate him for being the one to tell me this.

I jump from the couch and run, stumbling down the hall to the bathroom where I expel the contents of my stomach.

I slam my hands on the sides of the toilet seat as I kneel in front of it. "NO! NO! This isn't happening! The kids are taking their spelling test right now. Toby is spelling volcano with an 'o.' He's spelling it right! And Katie, she's going to ace it like she always does. She's so damn smart like her father. And Alex, he's not at work because he's planning a special dinner to celebrate. He knew I would get the job. He's out buying flowers and a nice bottle of wine. He said we would have lobster! This is all wrong! It's not my family!" I am saying all of this aloud, but to myself as the tears cloud my vision. I'm working it out so that I can tell them there must be some mistake. I look up to see the female officer standing at the bathroom door. I look into her eyes and plead with her silently. "Please tell me this is a mistake, please. Tell me you're wrong. It's not them."

She looks back at me with as much sadness and sympathy as she's allowed to show. And when she speaks to me her voice is low and soft like a mother's when she's trying to soothe a child.

"I'm sorry. There is no mistake, Mrs. Morreau. Is there someone you can call? Any family that can come be with you now? I don't want to leave you here alone."

I nod yes, but the answer is no. There's no one I want here. No one that can help me understand. No one that can change what's happened. We were all the family each other had. Now I'm alone, and my heart has just been ripped out.

Julia

AFTER THE OFFICERS LEAVE, I have no idea how long I just sit here. Seconds, minutes, hours? I have no idea because time has stopped. I am stuck in the worst moment of my life, absolutely powerless. Sam nudges my hand, but I wave him off. I'm still clutching the card the officers left in my hand. I can't read it though because my eyes are blurred with tears that won't stop falling. Finally, I drift off to sleep but it doesn't last. Not even complete exhaustion can ward off the replay of that moment in my head. It's like a looped video, over and over, never changing. It always ends the same.

I keep waking, sometimes only for a second before I'm pulled back in. I have no idea how much time passes, the only change I notice is that the sun is going down, and there is an orange stream of light from the sunset sneaking in through the cracks in the curtains. Alex and the kids have not come home yet to prove that there was any mistake, that they're all still alive. Reality is beginning to sink in. I doze off again.

The next few times I come into consciousness it's dark, nearly pitch black. Sam raises his head from where he lay on the floor beside me. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I can see that he is looking at me, he whines and again nudges my hand that hangs off the side of the couch.

"They'll be home soon, boy. Don't worry, they're on their way," I say as I pet the soft fur on his head.

My voice is cracked and low, and even I don't recognize it. It's barely a whisper. I figure that I've probably been crying while I slept due to the dryness of my eyes and throat. But I will not cry anymore because they'll be home any time now. I just have to believe this. I sit up and stare towards the door. Any minute now they will be home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I am awakened by the sound of my phone. I sit up frantic, no memory of falling back asleep. I try to get up quickly just to fall to the floor. It's Alex. I know it. He's finally calling to let me know he's okay and to tell me where he is. Not trusting my legs to stand again, I crawl to where my purse is on the kitchen table. I grab the phone and not bothering to look at the screen, I answer.

"Alex! Babe, where are you? Are you okay? Are the kids with you? Where have you been? I've been going crazy, they told me you were..." It's in that phrase that I finally take a breath because I don't want to say it, and the person on the other end sees their opening to speak.

"Mrs. Morreau, this is Bruce Hill from Hills Mortuary. I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. We would like you to know that we are here to make all of this easier for you, so please let us assist you any way we can."

The realization hits me that not only are they gone but it's been at least a day, maybe two, that I've had no clue I've lost. "Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry, but I will have to call you back." I hang up. I don't need to hear any more. I don't get a number, and I don't ask him to repeat his name. They. Are. Gone.

I repeat that mantra in my head at least a thousand times while sitting there on the kitchen floor holding my knees to my chest.

"I hope you all knew just how much I love you. Toby, my sweet boy. Katie, my princess. Alex, love of my life. I don't know how I'll live without you." And again the tears flow and this time I don't try to stop them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Three weeks have passed now. The funerals are over, and the visitors are gone. I am finally left alone. A hundred or so people attended the service that I insisted be for all three of them. People from Alex's work, staff from the children's school, parents of the children's friends, and the two officers that came to my home that day. So many people, though in my head I was there all by myself reliving again and again the fact that they were all gone. Alex's parents came from Maine and his brother from Florida. He and his family were not close, in fact having them here was hard because I don't know them at all. Nine years and I met his family once. That was the night Alex chose me over them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We had gone for dinner, where he was introducing me for the first time. He had warned me that his family had never liked anyone he had brought home, but he was sure they would love me because I was the first person he loved. Well, they didn't love me, and they hated that he did. They knew of my family. Knew of how after my father had died my mother went off the deep end. She wasn't the most embarrassing thing in our town but held a close second so they decided I would be no better. They told Alex he was stupid and throwing his life away on me.

"She is my life now." He told them. "And if you can't handle that, then you are no longer welcome in it."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He had turned his back on them and never looked back. They had never even met our children. And now they never would. They wept for him, and I would assume for the children too. I figure that no matter the lack of a relationship between parents and a child, when they are gone it's almost the same. The only difference being that all you will have to hold onto are regrets.

They thanked me for allowing them to be here. To be honest, it was the oddest thing, and I don't expect anything ever beyond that moment.

"Thank you for being in his life when we refused to be, Julia. We are really so sorry we let him walk away. We were selfish, and we..." his mother couldn't finish and I didn't need her to. They will go home and mourn in their way. I will stay here surrounded by the remnants of our life and mourn in my own way.

I had the support of our friends Jennifer and her husband, Tom. They were our best couple, and it only took minutes for them to be by my side after I told them the news. I don't like to be the dependent friend, but they were the only people we ever trusted. If it so happened that it was Alex and me alone in that vehicle, they would be the ones taking the children and raising them for us. It's funny, but I'm sure I'm no easier to take care of at this point.

My mother sent a card. For her, that's a real stretch to do that much. But I'm glad she didn't come, it would've only made it harder. I don't need to focus on finding a balance between her selfishness, phoniness, and drunkenness right now. She finally made the right choice for once.

My work was extremely understanding. It's probably not every day that they have to deal with someone that is going through something of this degree. They told me to take as long as I needed. I feel that to take _as long as I need_ may result in never returning again but this job was my dream. Something Alex pushed me to achieve and that we all made sacrifices for. I wanted to blame the job for not being there. Maybe, just maybe, if that day would've followed the same routine it always had, things would be different. I thought about giving it up, just walking away. First, it took my time then it took my family, but I know that's not true. To blow it all off now, to just give it up would prove all of the sacrifice was made in vain.

So I go back to work next week. To be honest, I will be thankful for the distraction. I have too much time. Too much time to think and every thought is of them. I don't ever want to stop thinking about them but I want to stop knowing every damn second of every damn day that passes that I will never see, hear, touch, hug, or kiss them again. I have to find my way to deal, and I think my work will be my way.

I walk through the house with Sam by my side. He's been my silent companion through these weeks. He rarely leaves me, he just constantly watches. He doesn't ask how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, or if there's anything he can do. He doesn't put on a sad face and say he's sorry or constantly tell me that he's there if I need him. He is just Sam, and he's been my favorite to be around.

Each night we make our rounds to each of the kids' rooms. I can't bring myself to touch anything yet. I want everything to stay just the way it was left for a while longer. I just want to feel them. In Toby's room, a pair of shoes lies in the middle of the floor and his video game controller on the bed. The bed is made, well kind of, as well as an eight-year-old boy would make a bed to keep his mother off his back about it. I smile as tears fill my eyes. Was I so stupid to argue with him about such trivial things, knowing now we had such little time left? No! I can't allow myself to think like that. Those things had no bearing on how much time we had. If he were still here, I would still insist he do it.

Katie's room. Never a thing out of place. Her father would say she inherited Obsessive Compulsive Disorder from me. I would deny it knowing he was probably right. She was very organized, very exact in almost everything she did. I used to worry that she wasn't just being a kid enough, but I understood. I knew she would grow to be great, to be a leader, to amaze her father and me with her accomplishments. _She would have._

I move to our room, mine and Alex's. I still haven't slept in here yet on my own. I just can't bring myself to do it. So, I've been using the spare room. I figure if I'm going to feel like something's missing, that I don't belong, I might as well be where I don't belong. At least then something will make sense. Every time I look at our bed, the comforter still slightly ruffled I see us together, making love for the last time. I have to close my eyes and turn away to keep from losing it completely. I quickly grab the things I need and leave the room, closing the door and placing that memory for now, behind me.

Julia

SIX YEARS LATER...

I walk into the dark office at my usual seven a.m. I walk past rows and rows of cubicles to the back and to the left. Shifting my coffee to my other hand, I insert the key in the lock and open the door. My door, the one that has a polished gold name plate that says "Julia Morreau, Managing Editor." I'm still in awe over how seeing it makes me feel. I won't gloat but to be pronounced the youngest ever managing editor for Miljone at thirty-four makes me feel amazing and very few things have made me feel amazing in the last six years.

After the accident, I threw myself into work full on, balls to the wall. I had to do it for my family, and for myself. I worked the hours no one else wanted, took only three personal days a year, came in on weekends, came in early, stayed late. You name it, there were no limits. I did anything to keep my mind and body busy. Work became my distraction and then an obsession. I wanted to be the best. My family wouldn't have expected any less of me.

Working really was the easy part, because I truly love what I do. I love the reading. I love having a team that cares about their work. I know my goal to be the best has turned me into a hard ass at times, but that's how you get to the top when you won't give blowjobs. I don't tolerate employees that don't do their part and pull their weight, so I set a good example.

I turn on my coffee pot as I walk by and hang my bag on the coat rack in the corner. I have a stack of files on my desk that I need to assign at this morning's meeting. I've also been entrusted to do the final evaluations for the interns this year. We have three, all very talented young people. I have to decide if any of them have a future at Miljone. I have my eye on two right now, but I have to narrow it down by the end of the week. Boy, you just have got to love Mondays.

Frank also mentioned the possibility of a couple of new, really big accounts that we may have by the end of the month, which is quickly approaching. It may almost double the workload, but it will be major growth for the company. It also means I'll stay busy. I like busy.

I started off working so much so I wouldn't have time to dwell on recent events or the past. Now I can't imagine having time to myself. My heart still hurts every day but I've learned to handle it, thanks to some therapy and some time. I don't pretend to understand why it all happened, but I do know there is a reason I'm still here. What that reason is or when I may find out is a total mystery. But when the universe is ready to let me in on the plan I'll be right here.

Two cups of coffee later and two intern files down, I notice the office is coming to life. Through the blinds, I see that my secretary has arrived and will be knocking on my door in three, two, one. Knock, knock, knock. Right on cue.

"Come in, Nora."

"Good morning, Ms. Morreau. How was your weekend?"

"Uneventful. The usual. I read a manuscript, ate Chinese takeout, and had an ass-busting workout with my trainer. How about you?"

I ask, I always ask because it's polite. Nora is a wonderful secretary, but she's young, beautiful, and is there a politically correct way to say, slutty? Although I don't involve myself with office chatter, I still hear it. And almost every straight guy here knows Nora. Not what her favorite color is or where she went to school, but they know what color her panties are and how long it takes to get them off. Funny thing to me is that she doesn't seem to care. It's like she's playing them and not the other way around. If that's her game, more power to her, but she is a species I don't quite care to understand.

"Oh, well I went to the club with my friends. Had some drinks, danced with some hot guys, you know." No, I don't know, and I really don't care. "You should come out with us some time." I only nod.

"Yeah, maybe one day." Yeah, never. "Well, I have a full schedule today and where there may be gaps I'm expecting meetings to arise. So please make sure I get all calls unless I'm in a meeting. Here are things I need to be typed, most important on top."

"Yes, Ms. Morreau." And just like that our _friend_ time is over, and we are back to our roles of boss and secretary. She goes back out to her desk to begin her tasks for the day, and I pour my third cup of coffee.

My intercom buzzes just as I'm taking a sip. I set it down and push the button to answer.

"Yes, Nora?"

"Mr. Lawson just called and wants to see you in his office."

"Thank you." I pick up my coffee and a couple of the files from my desk. I'm not exactly sure what this meeting will be about, but it's better to have what I may need. I head down to the corner office. I give a courteous knock but don't wait for an answer before opening the door.

"Good morning, Frank. How are you this morning?" He looks up over his readers, not giving anything away.

"I'm here, let's leave it at that for now. Lots of things to go over this morning. Is your schedule clear?"

"Yes, it is, I expected some news from you today, so I came in early to get started and free up some time just in case."

"You always come in early, Julia, don't play it off like it's something new for you," he chuckles.

Frank is probably the one person I let myself be the most personal with here at work. Generally I don't allow my social and professional life to commingle, but Frank was there for me all those years ago and went out on a limb holding my position. When I came back, he told me that he couldn't set aside being a human to be an asshole boss who would let someone go after what I had gone through. So, I've spent six years making sure he didn't regret his decision.

Frank is about ten years my senior, so he and I kind of have the big brother, little sister thing going on between us. He's an attractive man, dark hair, tall, built. Not bad at all to look at, but not the one to open my locked heart. He's also divorced and has two children in their early twenties. He has little trouble admitting the failed marriage was his fault. Like me when he started his career, he threw his everything into it, but because he had a family it wasn't quite the same. He sacrificed his family for the job, and I can't say I blame his wife for that not being enough for her. Would I have ended up doing the same to Alex? I often wonder, but that is useless because of course I will never know.

"I like the quiet time in the morning. I can get so much more done, which leaves me available for crisis control during the day. Don't condemn my system, it works, doesn't it?"

"That it does, you're awesome and you know it. You love to hear me say it too. I just wonder sometimes if you'll ever..." he stops and starts shuffling through papers on his desk. "Never mind. So—"

"Never mind nothing, Frank. What were you going to say? Were you wondering again if I'll ever find life outside this office?" This is actually a question I sometimes ask myself. When I begin speaking again, my voice is softer, almost sad. "I don't have the answer to that yet. One day maybe, but for now I'm good. Just appreciate my awesomeness. I promise you'll be the first to know when my life resumes beyond these walls, okay?"

He looks at me with caring eyes. He took a big chance on me at one time, and I have not disappointed him. He's been a great boss and my only friend. "Okay," he says and leaves it at that.

We continue going over the workload, discussing assignments and upcoming deadlines. After about forty-five minutes Frank starts checking his watch regularly. I notice this and start to get curious.

"Do you have another meeting coming? I can finish this on my own if you need me to go."

"Yes, I do have another meeting but you will be staying for it. I have an announcement to make, but I want you to be prepared. We got those contracts I told you about."

"Oh my goodness, that's amazing! Good job, Frank!"

"Thank you," he says with a confident grin. "It means a lot more work and open positions for staff. More work and more staff means more pressure on you."

"That's not a problem, Frank. I run a well-oiled machine, you know that. I could actually use a challenge about now. We've been running too consistent for too long."

"I do know, believe me, I do but—" his intercom buzzes. He holds a finger up to me to excuse the interruption and responds to his secretary. "Yes, Ashley?"

"Mr. Lawson, your ten o'clock is here."

"Thank you. Please show him in."

He stands from behind his desk and walks to stand in front of it. I stand as well, still wondering what's going on. I have an unsettled feeling. I'm not sure I'm going to like this.

Derick

I STAND OUTSIDE THE OFFICE of the CEO of Miljone Publishing. It's not a huge company yet, but with its reputation it's one of the fastest growing publishing companies in Boston. Fortunately, they were hiring at the same time I decided to relocate. The West Coast just wasn't where I wanted to be anymore. It houses a lot of painful memories, and there's no one there to keep me any longer. My wife, my ex-wife actually, Ann, decided that after ten years of marriage she needed to _find_ herself, as she put it. But it was me that found her in my bed with my best friend. So with the only two people I loved, outside of my family, teaming up to ultimately break me, I decided it was my cue to move on and find _myself_.

So here I am for my meeting with my new boss to discuss the specifics of my new venture. I've already been hired, this much is a given, but apparently this ship floats a little differently than I'm used to. Its structure is different, but I'm ready for a challenge and change. Ashley, the secretary, just buzzed Mr. Lawson to let him know that I'm here. She's cute, but I won't go there. One rule I've always followed, even before I was married: Workplace relationships are _no bueno_. And not to sound like an ass but it's especially not worth losing my job over a secretary. Not unless, of course, she turned out to be my soul mate, and I suppose you just never know when or where or who that will be. But, in this case, I already know, it's not her.

Frank Lawson opens up his door motioning me in and greets me with a firm handshake. I can see someone peeking out from behind him. He turns to her and begins the introductions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

As I stand there waiting behind Frank only one thought keeps running through my head, what the fuck is going on? Frank mentioned extra pressure on me and the need for extra staffing. Please don't tell me he's... I hear Frank say my name, and I'm abruptly pulled from my thoughts and back to the present.

"Julia, I'd like you to meet Derick Edmunds." I look up and offer my hand to shake his. He reaches out, our fingers touch and I swear it's like a small stream of electricity flows from one to the other. I look down at our hands for a split second and back to his eyes. My thoughts are instantly scattered, and when I speak again, I feel like I'm stumbling over my words.

"Ju-" I clear my throat, "Julia Morreau. A pleasure to meet you." He's still holding onto my hand. I pull back just a little and he reluctantly lets go. My hand that just felt so warm and tingly in his now feels cold and lacking.

"Let's all have a seat and I'll explain what's going on here," Frank says as he moves back to sit behind his desk, with Derick and I sitting in the chairs in front of him. "As I mentioned to you earlier, Julia, we got those contracts we bid for and that will nearly double the workload here. We will be hiring at least five new editors and to make things easier on you I have hired another managing editor."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Frank? Why don't you think I can handle this? I've worked my ass off here beginning with my internship seven years ago. Why suddenly do you question my ability?" I ask trying to sound more upset than hurt, when I feel both equally.

"It's not that I don't think you can Julia. I know you can, but I also know that you would end up exhausted and burnt out. Neither of us or the company gains from that."

"So where does Mr. Edmunds fit into this equation? I assume he does since he's in this meeting with us," I say with a little defeat and a lot of sarcasm.

"He is your new partner. He comes to us from a very prestigious publishing company in California. I think you two will make a great team. Derick here, has been in the business about as long as you have and from what I'm told of him and know of you, your work ethics are comparable."

Now that I know who this man is, I'm slightly embarrassed by my behavior. I won't show defeat, but I'm not ready to throw down the welcoming mat either. "Well, with all that needs to be said having been said, please excuse me, but I have work to do. And I'm sure you two have details to work out. Just catch me up later. Nice to have met you, Derick." I stand, grab my files from the desk and turn to leave.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

After she leaves, Frank appears exasperated for a moment, and I sit tight while he regains his composure.

"I'm sorry about that, Derick. I hadn't completely told her everything that was about to happen, before it happened." He does appear to be apologetic about the blindside he just served up.

"I assumed as much. I won't criticize her for being upset, but _I_ don't want to be the bad guy. It's as simple as I was looking for a job, and you hired me. Is she going to be okay with all this or should I wait to unpack my fancy pen set and nameplate?"

"She'll be fine. I blindsided her, so really it's all my fault. I didn't mean to, but that's what ended up happening. She's put her life into this place for the last six years, and she deserved more from me. But I want you to know, she's smart, and she's fair. I have no doubt that she won't treat you with any less fairness or respect than she does the rest of the staff. Maybe you can go talk to her and just remind her that you aren't here to take her job but be her team partner, help with the load. I will mend my way with her. We've worked together a long time now. She was an intern finishing college when I chose her. She has never disappointed me, and I know she won't start now."

"I don't want to make waves here, but I'm not willing to give up this opportunity. I hope you're right. I'll go and see her after I get settled."

"Well then, let me show you to your office."

We maneuver through the main office and to the corner opposite of where Julia's office is located. Since our floor takes up the entire space allowed by the building's floor plan, all the offices have ample windows allowing a view of the beautiful city around us. I am not disappointed with it, and in fact, I feel very comfortable being surrounded by such tranquility. I move across the room to sit in my chair and immediately spin it to stare out the window. I'm brought back by Frank's voice behind me.

"It looks like you'll be comfortable here. It's a great view isn't it? Just wait 'til you're working past dark and the city lights up. For risk of sounding like a woman, it's breathtaking."

"I bet." Turning back to Frank I say, "It's great. And I'm guessing when it snows, it's quite the sight too. That's one thing I'll have to get used to, snow, but I'm excited about it. A new city and new experiences. Thank you, Frank, for the opportunity. I'll make it work with Julia, and you will not regret hiring me."

"I know I won't. I don't make a habit of making choices I regret. If you need anything, just let me know. Welcome to the team." And with that he turns to leave.

I spin my chair back around to face the window. Staring out over the city, I absentmindedly find myself rubbing my hand, and when I notice what I'm doing my mind immediately goes to when I shook Julia's hand. The shock felt like electricity. She felt it too, I know she did. I could tell by the way she looked at our hands and then into my eyes.

"No. Not a good idea at all," I say, trying to remind myself that this is now where I eat, so to speak. Workplace relationships are never a good idea. Okay maybe not never, but never that I've personally known of.

I have to just forget about it, put it out of my mind. But even as I think it, it's not what I want. Boy, I thought I just got rid of all the trouble in my life and twenty-five hundred, or so, miles later I'm looking it up practically by name. It's a problem with us hopeless romantics I guess. It's not that we never learn, it's that we never lose hope that our soul mate is out there. Maybe I had to leave what I always thought I wanted to finally find her. Maybe I'm having a revelation.

I sit and stare for a while longer willing myself to be grounded. I start to think more clearly and figure there may be no time like the present to go and talk to her. Talking to women, whether professionally or personally has never been an issue for me. Usually, I am received rather well, so knowing that this is a strength of mine, makes me confident. But knowing that I'm extinguishing a fire I didn't start also makes me nervous.

I suppose there is no time like the present, and I stand from my chair with a view and make my way to Julia's office. Her door is open just a crack, and I can hear the silence. I knock, feeling it probably will not help me at all just to walk in.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

An hour or so passes, and I busy myself as much as possible. Back in my office I shuffle through files. Work has been my distraction for years, but I think I'm about to have a new one. What was that when we touched? I definitely felt something but did he? For the most part, I'm able to stay focused but I admit that a couple of times my mind did wander to earlier this morning, to Derick. The warmth of his touch, his light brown hair, his tall, lean body, and his kind but powerful demeanor. His blue eyes that made me feel naked, like he saw _me_. I don't want to like him and his liking me won't be easy after the bitch I was in there earlier. I want to disfavor him, but I also have a feeling I won't have a choice.

I haven't had a man touch me in six years. Not at all. For fucks sake, I haven't touched myself in six years. Sometimes, I think that physically I could be ready to be with someone again, but mentally I'm... hell I don't know. How could this man in less than five minutes and one touch get me so flustered?

"Oh, you are being silly, Julia. Snap out of this, he's just a man. A man who you might safely say is after your job," I say under my breath. Talking to myself is unfortunately something I often do.

A knock at my door pulls me out of my thoughts. I quickly pick up a manuscript to look like I'm reading and answer, "Come in." But after I see who it is I wish I could pull back my words, take back my welcome, but it's too late. I drop my legs from the corner of my desk, remove my readers, and quietly take a deep breath.

"Yes, Mr. Edmunds, was it? What can I help you with?" I say trying to sound unaffected by his presence.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you. May I sit?"

"Of course." I gesture to the chairs in front of my desk. He sits and looks so relaxed. I'm envious. I feel so tense. But I will project myself with confidence, show no weakness.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to you. Actually, it was Frank's idea, to be honest. Look, I'm here to work with you not against you. You and I, we are a team now. I don't want you to think I'm coming in here and trying to take over your job. I respect you, and I know you have been doing just fine without me. You're a strong leader. So, I want to see what you've been doing, and we can go from there. Fair enough?" He sounds sincere.

Letting go of a breath I wasn't even aware I was holding, I look anywhere but at his face. I need to reconnect with the confident woman I am before I respond, and behave like the leader he says he sees.

"Fair enough. I'm not unreasonable either, contrary to what you may already think. But I would prefer not to uproot the existing staff. I also want everyone on the same page when we do our new hiring. If you could just give my way a couple of days of observation to see the system we have here, then we can evaluate, critique, and compromise. Does that sound fair?"

"Absolutely. I get the feeling that you were a little blindsided by my arrival. Trust me I'd be pissed too. But, I'm not a threat. I'm actually very reasonable as well." He flashes a smile worth a million dollars and my insides just about melt.

"That's good." Mine is not worth a million dollars, but I smile back.

"Would you like to go lunch?" He almost looks nervous while he looks to me for an answer.

"I, uh..."

"Just so we can talk. You can fill me in on things around here, in a more neutral setting. You know, step out of the boxing ring." He holds his hands up in a truce.

"I really can't today. I have a lot to do." I gesture to the work piled on my desk. I want to go, I really do, but don't feel I should. I don't know why but I'm afraid that he'll think I'm spineless and easy to manipulate if I give into that sexy as hell smile.

"And lucky for you, I am here and getting paid to help you now." That smile again, he's killing me. Can he see the effect he has on me? "Come on, I saw a sandwich shop down the street. We could walk."

There is something about this man. He's waking up something inside of me that's been resting peacefully for six years. I'm not sure I'm ready to be awoken regardless of what my body is saying and besides that, he's my co-worker. So I do something I never do, I cower.

"Um, I'm sorry. But not today." It's all I say. It seems so cold, and I wish that I could just take it back, but that would prove a lack of strength. And this man is now my _partner_ , I don't want him to think that I conform so easily. We may be partners, but I will ensure that he never has the upper hand as far as work goes.

"Do you want me to bring you back something? My treat, even though you're refusing me the pleasure of your company."

I do give a little laugh at his dramatization. "Thanks, but I'm fine." I feel myself letting down my guard a little more. "Go on. I'll take you around the office this afternoon and make introductions." I need him to go. I can't think while he's here.

"Okay then, I'll see you in an hour or so, Julia." And he turns and walks away.

The way he says my name, it makes me feel like he's known me for more than five minutes, like he's said it to me a hundred times. It's a hard thought to break as I forbid myself to look up and watch him as he leaves. It's a struggle that I finally lose. But by the time I look up, he's gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I want her to catch up with me in the hall and say she's changed her mind, but that will not happen today, and that's okay. Maybe she's saving me from myself. Maybe she has a strength that I don't. Or maybe I'm imagining the connection between us. No, it's there. But as I sit alone eating my lunch, taking in all this newness around me, all I see is her. Her amazing green eyes, her full lips, her confidence, her strength. And that energy between us, that is undeniable. All I know is this woman, that I immediately desire, is quite possibly unattainable. I guess only time will tell if fate is playing its hand here, if so, I can't let it go ignored.

Julia

I ENJOY MY DRIVE HOME and start to feel more relaxed as I pull up in front of my condo. My nerves have been going into hyperdrive ever since I shook hands with Derick this morning, and I'm glad to be back in the sanctity of my own home. I figure that at least here I can either push all my thoughts aside or try to make sense of them. Although it's likely I will accomplish neither. We will see if a long hot bath and a glass of wine helps.

I bought this condo about four years ago. My dog Sam finally passed away, and our home in Cambridge seemed to be too much house for just me. Up 'til then, I just couldn't bring myself to let it go. It was my family's house, full of all the memories we made and all I had left. But with the last member joining the rest of them and after some long therapy sessions, I made the decision. Because Alex and I made some very good financial decisions and had more life insurance than I'd ever realized, the house was paid off, and I was in no hurry. But in just two weeks it sold. I never met with the new owners, and I haven't even so much as driven by there since I left. I made my peace and vowed never to go back.

I came across this condo at the perfect time. It had become an asset to be liquidated in an ugly divorce, and I reaped all the benefits. Being located on Beacon Street, it went unbelievably cheap, and I was on it fast. I practically stole it. Sometimes I look around and think it's a little too upscale for my tastes, but that was also part of its appeal. When I look at it as a whole, the building, the condo itself, I just can't see this as a place where a family would live. I didn't want to live in a place that would make me think that children belonged there, and it would just remind me that mine weren't here and I couldn't take that. Ten years ago I would've never thought I'd live in a place like this, but then again I never thought I'd be alone.

I get out of the car and grab my things that I'll need inside. My building does have an elevator, but unless it's grocery day I prefer to use the stairs. Up on my floor, the sixth, there are two suites. The doors are directly across from each other, mine and a neighbor I've actually never met. I do occasionally see a man and a woman either coming or going from the suite. I assume that since it's always the same man and always a different woman, the suite is his and furthermore that he has no problem getting laid. Yet another reason I don't need to meet my neighbor. Having gone six years without sex, it's probably not the best idea to reconcile that situation with the guy across the hall.

Opening my door, I toss my purse and the other few things I carried in onto the chair by the door. Turning on the lamp on the side table I can see and am reminded how simply I decorated this place. Besides the lack of boxes, one might think I had just moved in. Another might assume that I'm one of those forever-childless neat freaks, when really I'm neither. I don't have friends, and I never have company, so I don't need to show anything. It's not bare or boring really, it's just simple.

I didn't keep a lot when I sold the house. At first I wanted to, I wanted to keep everything, but I realized that my family wasn't in those things. They were just that, things. So I picked out a few pieces of furniture and art and all the pictures I could find. I kept a stuffed animal and a blanket from Katie's room, Toby's favorite book and a model airplane he and Alex had built, cards, projects the kids had made, and poems that Alex had written me. That was it. The rest was sold or donated.

I go into the kitchen to pour my glass of wine before I head into my room. I select the big glass because it's just been a big glass of wine kind of day. I open and look into the refrigerator, like I do every night when I get home. I never eat after I get home, but I look anyway, and once again there's nothing in there I want. I only wish I knew what I hoped to find in there. Have you ever noticed how we look to the fridge for answers no matter the question? Out of boredom, frustration, or habit. I always open it thinking that today might just be the day that I'll look inside and find the answers masterfully written on a scroll and secured with red ribbon. And that when I open it, the answer to every question I've ever asked will be crystal clear. But tonight is not that night.

I walk into the bathroom to start my bath water. I choose eucalyptus bath oil tonight to help me de-stress and relax. Just pouring it in and inhaling, the fragrance instantly starts to take effect. I go back into my room and sit on the edge of the bed to remove my shoes and then stand to remove my dress, bra, and panties. As I turn to go back to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the antique swivel mirror in the corner of my room. I don't admire myself in mirrors. I do my makeup and hair, check my outfits but I never really look at myself. Alex always told me I was beautiful, and I always just thought I was only beautiful to him. Looking at myself through my eyes, I see pretty, but not beautiful like he did. But today something happened, and I think I'm ready and wanting someone to see me as, and tell me, I'm beautiful again.

I let my eyes wander the length of my body, and I try to see myself like a man would. My hair is a rich brown with hints of red and it hangs thick and to the center of my back. My eyes are wide, round like a doll's, and almost as green as emeralds. My lips are full and the perfect shade of pink requiring no gloss or lipstick. My skin is smooth and begging to be touched. My breasts aren't large but as I remember, big enough to fill a man's hand. I put my hands on my chest at my collarbone and slide them down over my breasts.

My breath catches at the feeling of being touched even though it's by my own hands. I can just imagine how it might feel to have a man's hands on me again. I do imagine it as I gently massage my breasts, loving how it feels, as I graze my nipples with my fingers. They react, becoming hard and holding their shape. I've never done anything like this, but I don't stop. It feels too good. I continue with one hand down my abdomen and over where my only real visible imperfections are. The faint stretch marks from my pregnancy. I don't find them ugly like I used to, now I find them saddening but beautiful just the same. Still massaging my breast, I touch myself softly just between my legs. I feel a quiver inside that I believe is a beckoning to keep going. I need this. I've probably needed it for years.

I start moving my hand in a small circular motion over my sensitive nub and reach lower to dip one finger into myself. I find myself moistened and needy. I enter myself again and again, losing myself in this feeling and finding a faint recollection of how it felt to be touched. Continuing to thrust my finger into myself, I need more, I want more. I replace my one finger with two fingers, filling myself more, making me feel more. Backing up against the wall, I lean my head back, close my eyes and let out a moan. I imagine that I'm not the one making my body feel this way. The vision I see is all it takes to make me lose myself. I feel his hands on me, softly squeezing one nipple while gently sucking on the other. I feel the roughness of his hand against my clit, making it hard and so sensitive to his touch. Before I can comprehend what's happening, I feel my orgasm upon me, and my legs can barely hold me up, but I don't want it to stop. I haven't felt this in six years, and I don't want it to stop. I ride the wave until I peak, lost in euphoria. Breathless, I pull myself to stand back in front of the mirror, I need to see my face. Alex always said I looked most beautiful right after I came. As if willed to reality, I can see a little of what he once saw. I do look different now than I did just moments ago, maybe this is the beautiful me.

I'm pulled from that moment by the sound of water spilling over the edge of the tub. "Shit! So much for relaxing eucalyptus, Julia!" But then I start to laugh because when it comes down to it, I feel more relaxed now than I have in a long time.

I drain a little of the water out of my tub and lay down towels to soak up the spillage, determined to have my bath and wine. I slip into the warm water, inhale the scent, and let out a deep breath. I take a sip of wine and enjoy the flavor the Shiraz leaves in my mouth. Do I dare let my thoughts drift back to what just happened? Do I want to analyze it like I do everything and chance ruining the breakthrough I feel like I just had? I choose not to because I honestly feel like something in me is changing and I'm both excited and scared at once. Excited to think that after all this time I may actually begin to enjoy this life I live and scared because I don't want to feel like I've turned my back or forgotten the life I once had.

I don't think Alex and the kids would approve of what I do, though. I don't think they want me to shut myself out and dwell on what happened, but besides work, that is exactly what I have done for the last six years. There is nothing to undo, no reason to wait any longer. I've been told that when the time is right, I'll move on. I laughed at that notion since it usually came from professionals who had no personal experience in common with mine. But now I wonder if someone can actually learn this, the nature of human behavior, from a book and be right.

There is really no answer, I guess, and maybe having the fantasy I had earlier is a sign that I'm finally there. It felt so good for me to let go after so long. To enjoy the pleasure I gave myself, even if I imagined it was someone else. The only thing that confuses me now is, you would think that I would be fantasizing about Alex doing all those things to me. But I wasn't, it was Derick.

Julia

THE NEXT TWO WEEKS GO by pretty smoothly I guess you could say. After that night, my first fantasy about Derick, I decided it was best to keep it completely professional when around him. I've been careful not to let even our fingertips make contact when passing files. Under no circumstance do I want him to have any idea what he's doing to me, how I lust for him. We are partners and workplace relationships are never a good idea. The saying _don't shit where you eat_ comes to mind. He's not my subordinate but just the same, it's not a good idea.

He's asked me every day if I'd like to have lunch and every day I say no. I watch him walk away, and then beat myself up for not going. I want to, I really do. I'd like to get to know him. So what's stopping me? Is it really the work thing or is it fear? I'm afraid I'm not ready to share myself with someone and have them unable to see past the reasons to pity me. Very few people know what happened years ago, and those that do have pushed it back so far in their memories that I don't even see sympathy in their eyes anymore. That works for me because I never wanted it to begin with. No doubt I need to talk to someone about this because I really don't know how to handle it all. And the thought of avoiding this situation scares me as much as approaching it. Note to self: call Dr. Sylva—ASAP.

My therapist, Dr. Sylva is able to squeeze me in after work, she always has. I think she worries about me. Besides my initial breakdown, I think I'm a pretty quiet subject, which sets off alarms in her eyes. I only saw her for a few months and then the frequency of our visits together tapered off. Now I only call when I'm having a really bad time, which is rare. But when I call her, she always _squeezes_ me in. Going to see her now is like going to talk to an old friend that just happens to have a degree in psychology.

As I pull up to the familiar medical plaza, I'm trying to figure out what it is I want her to tell me. Do I want her to condone my thoughts and actions and have her tell me that they are textbook normal and to continue or even take them further? Or, do I want her to tell me to stop all this silliness and resume the life I've become comfortable with? She's not going to tell me the latter, I know that, not unless she thinks I need to be rebellious and wants to set the stage.

I take the stairs to the second floor and enter suite B. Her waiting room is empty, even her receptionist has left for the day. Squeezing me in usually means her making a late night of it to see me after hours. The room is simple but professionally decorated with tan walls and mahogany framed paintings on each one. The door to her office is open and she acknowledges me when she hears the outside door fall closed.

"Julia? Is that you?" It's funny that she almost sounds like a mother calling her child.

She's only a couple of years older than I am, so in no way do I see her as a mother figure except that she seems to know more about me than I do.

"Yeah, it's me," I say as I pass through the doorway into her office.

"Good to see you. Have a seat, get comfortable. You know the drill."

I have my choice between a leather chair in front of her desk or the stereotypical therapy session couch. She waits for me to choose, but already knows what it will be. I sit in the chair as I always have. I prefer to think of these sessions as two people having a conversation, not me lying on a couch playing the _woe is me_ patient. She just sits back and watches me, she's analyzing me, trying to get a feel for why I'm here after so long.

"So what's going on Julia? Why are you here today?" She speaks with that calm, cool, yet concerned voice of someone trying to get you to bare it all.

"I, uh, I've just had some things going on and I don't know how to handle them. I don't know if they're right. I'm confused and I'm just not sure what I want, what's okay."

"Go on. Tell me and we'll see if together we can help you answer your own questions."

"Well, lately I have been thinking about a man. He works with me and from the very moment I met him, I felt something. I've dreamt of him. I fantasize about him. This bothers me because I feel like I'm betraying Alex. But I feel alive for the first time in years, like I have something to look forward to. I think I _want_ to be ready to move on but I don't know how. Where do I start? What if I'm wrong? What if I start something I can't finish?"

"Okay well let's take one question at a time. What makes you feel like you're betraying Alex?"

"Because I pledged my love, my life, my everything to him. I promised him forever."

"Okay. Not to point out the obvious but Alex is not here anymore and not to say that your love and promise to him was supposed to just stop when he passed, but do you think he would fault you for wanting to have that type of connection with someone else in his absence?"

"No, I think he would want me to live, to be happy. But, I'm afraid I'm going to try to compare everyone else to him and that's only going to hurt others in the process."

"So don't compare. We, as people, are different in every role we play. Different as friends, as mothers, as lovers, and we are different lovers with other people. You have to go into this with the mind-set that it is something new and totally different because it is. You're building a new life, not trying to replace the old one. Now, as for how to start: Have you made any advances towards this man or even given him an indication that you are in any way attracted to him?"

"Not at all. I'm professional, I don't show any interest. He asks me to lunch every day and I refuse. I keep it completely business with him, as I do everyone. We know nothing personal about each other. I don't ask, he doesn't ask."

"If you want to pursue this, if you really want to know if you can, you need to try. You and Alex weren't always together. You had to start somewhere. And if you want to know if there is a _you and this man_ well then you have to have a leaping point. Say yes to lunch or better yet, ask him to lunch. Strike up a conversation about anything. Ask him about himself or divulge something about yourself, it doesn't have to be big. As for whether or not you are ready, just the fact that you think about it should tell you that you are. That doesn't have to mean that you have to jump in headfirst. Go slow; set your own pace, you are in charge here. Once your feet are wet, you just might find you're ready to swim."

"But what if he doesn't feel this connection I do or scarier yet, what if he does? Both scenarios scare the living daylights out of me. Rejection and acceptance are equally intimidating."

"Did you make the first move with Alex or did he?"

"He did."

"Before that were you interested? Did you want him to?"

"I was and yes, I did. More than anything."

"Did either of those thoughts scare you or make you nervous? Did you worry that he wouldn't make the move but feel nervous that he would?"

"Yes." I've figured out where she's going with this. She's done just what she said, made me answer my own questions.

"So how was that any different? The only thing I see that needs to happen differently this time around is that you may have to be the one that makes the first move."

"What about the fantasizing? Is it wrong? Does it make me some kind of crazy?"

"How far do these fantasies go?"

"To the point that I pleasure myself imagining it's him."

"And have you ever done this before, since you've been alone?"

"No, I always felt weird about doing that, even when I was married. But the first day I met Derick, I started to see differently. Think differently. Want differently. That's when it happened the first time, that night when I got home. I was looking at myself in the mirror and wondering how he saw me, if I was beautiful to him."

"And how did you feel after? Did you feel like you had done something wrong?"

"No, actually. I felt like for the first time in a long time, in my personal life anyway, that I had done something right. I felt beautiful and at peace."

"Well then. I think you need to follow your heart and stop spending so much time analyzing the thoughts in your head. _You_ are the only one that knows what you want. You've been alone for six years, and that was the time you needed to heal. You were never expected, by anyone, to stay alone forever. Especially by Alex. From what you've told me about him, there is no way he would be that selfish." She knows she's done it, the look in her eyes and the smile that curves at the corner of her mouth says that.

"Thank you." Simple as that. She made me realize what I already knew.

"It may not be easy, and there's always a chance it may not work out, but you will never know unless you try. Life is scary, if it wasn't, it'd be boring as hell. Trust your heart."

"I'll try. I really will, I promise." I give her a smile, and she returns it.

"So, is that all you needed me for this year?" she says with a teasing tone.

"Well yeah, I guess. Things were pretty quiet until Mr. Hot and Handsome walked into my life. He's the first person to surprise me, to get my attention in a long time. It threw me off, but you've given me a new perspective."

"It's my job, but you are welcome."

We walk out to our cars together, exchanging common chatter about how it's finally cooling down, making the weather perfect. As she opens the door to her car, she calls my attention. "Julia, if you need me, just call me. Okay?" She has such a friendly smile, and I know she means what she says.

I nod to her, "Thank you."

Driving home, I feel as though a weight I've been carrying is gone. I roll down the windows and turn up the radio a little louder than I normally would, and I sing out loud. I feel good, and I think I know how to make myself feel even better. No more avoidance tactics. It's time to take a chance and follow my heart.

Julia

OVER THE WEEKEND, I DO a lot of soul-searching. I honestly give a lot of thought to what Dr. Sylva had said. The bottom line is I need to find out what I really wanted, am I ready to finally move on? My head and my heart are not at battle regarding my answer, but I still feel that both are struggling to be at peace with my decisions. I know that Dr. Sylva said it was okay to move on and that Alex wouldn't have wanted me to spend the rest of my life alone. I know it's true, but it's still hard to not feel as though what I'm feeling is wrong in some way. I want to be loved again. I want to love again. I went from having so much love in my heart for three people to having no one to love. Although my love for them will never go away, I want someone to share it with again.

I set aside these worries and spend the weekend getting in a couple of good workouts, a mani-pedi, a massage, and some time outside. The weather will be turning cold soon and getting in my walks while they don't require layers has become a personal fall pastime. The cold won't stop me from spending time outside but basking in the warmth while it lasts, taking in the sun's energy gives me clarity. I need to get my thoughts together. I know all my decisions don't have to be made right now, but I need to start somewhere. I need to find out if Derick is feeling this thing that seems to exist between us. If, in fact, he is, he's just as good at hiding it as I think I am.

It keeps looping in my mind though, that I'm wrong in having all these thoughts. Maybe this is just the equivalent of a schoolgirl crush and that my being on the sidelines for so long is making me misinterpret the real meaning of all this. Maybe that small innocent physical contact we had was just enough to wake me up and maybe he was not affected at all. That's the thought that frightens me most. It took me six years to feel again and if it's not what I'm hoping, what then?

I sit on a bench off to the side of the trail I've been walking in the Public Garden. Spread before me is a large pond that is lined with trees of different types and colors. It's beautiful, peaceful. Right now there are people throwing bread to the geese, having picnics, and couples lying together on blankets likely talking about their futures. But in another couple of months this lake may be frozen and skaters will cover its top. We used to come here as a family, one of our many winter traditions. The first winter after they were gone I couldn't bring myself to come here. But I missed it, the feeling of them, the time we spent here, and the happiness we shared. I vowed to never miss another and so it became my winter-long tradition. It helps that I'm barely four blocks away.

The rest of the year I come here when I need to clear my mind and when I want to talk to them. I find it cliché to think that I have to go to the cemetery in Cambridge to talk to them. I don't feel like that's where they are. I think they are in the places we shared together, wherever I am. So on the anniversary of the day they left me and on Christmas Eve, I go to the cemetery and dress their stones with flowers and poems, but any other time I come here. It's a place where I can truly feel them.

I look around to make sure there's no one nearby to hear me. Satisfied to see I'm alone, I talk to Alex. "Hey, you. It's so beautiful today isn't it? I'm glad because I need to talk to you and I wanted it to be here. We spent so much time here and I feel you here more than anywhere else. I don't really know where to start." I rub my palms on my jeans. Oddly enough I feel nervous. After taking a couple of calming breaths, I start, "God, I'm such a mess lately, Alex, and I don't even know where to begin. I think I'm ready to try again. I'm ready to find someone. I'm ready to not be alone anymore. But, I'm afraid that I'm breaking the promise I made to you." I had promised to love him forever. My eyes start to fill with tears remembering all the promises we made each other. We made good on all of them in the time we had but most of them died with him, all but one. It's the one that doesn't actually require his presence, the one that is holding me back. The promise I made to love him forever.

"I need to know that moving on is what you want me to do before I can. I have to know it's okay. I need you to send me a sign that this is what you want for me."

I sit there for a few minutes just staring out over the water trying to get myself back together when I'm startled by something flying past me. It hits the grass, and before I can figure out what it is, a dog runs past me, picks it up and turns to run back the way it came. I start to laugh, feeling silly about my reaction, being so startled by a dog. The dog instead walks over to me and drops, what I can now see is a yellow ball, at my feet. It hunches itself and bounces back ready to fetch it again.

"Where are your parents, buddy? You can't be here all alone," I ask, not really sure if _buddy_ is a boy or girl. But then, from behind me, I hear a voice I know. Derick's.

"There you are, Ginger. Did you find a friend, girl? I'm sorry if she bothered you, she likes people." The dog doesn't run to him but sits there still looking expectantly at me, waiting for me to throw the ball.

I pick it up and turn around to throw it to her owner. "I think she wants this." I toss it to him and he catches it, looking at me a little shocked. I think he may be a little surprised to see me too, but then a smile spreads across his face.

"Julia." He tosses the ball back to me. "I think Ginger wants her new friend to throw this for her. I can't say I really blame her, I'd pick you over me too." He laughs, and it touches his eyes. They are a sky blue and twinkle with his smile.

I throw the ball and Ginger is instantly off to fetch it. The excitement she has for that simple action is palpable, and I'm slightly jealous. I wish I felt excitement like that. But then I realize that I do as Derick sits on the bench next to me.

"I'm sorry. I'm not interrupting anything am I? May I sit?"

"Of course. Please. You're not interrupting anything. I'm just taking in the weather. Beautiful isn't it?" I look back out over the lake, but every part of me is aware of his closeness. I want to keep looking at him, but I don't for fear that I might stare. Or even worse yet, that looking into those eyes will be my undoing.

"It sure is. I figure I better get out while we can. I hear the winters here can be harsh, and if that's true, this California boy is in for a big surprise. I've never lived where it snowed."

"The winters here are beautiful. They are cold and yes, they bring lots of snow. But after your first New England winter, if you make it through, you'll be hooked." I look over and see him watching me intently. Our eyes meet, and I smile, "It'll leave you wondering why it took you so long to experience it."

"I'll have to take your word for that right now, we'll compare opinions again in a few months." He laughs and breaks eye contact when nudged by a wet nose and a retrieved ball. He tosses it again and off Ginger goes.

"So is this a favorite spot of yours? It's tranquil, very calming. Ginger loves it, obviously." He motions to the golden retriever as she once again returns with the ball, dropping it at my feet.

I pick up the ball and toss it again. "It is a favorite, I come here to clear my head. The words you use, to describe it, they're my own. It's as if you heard me say them aloud." I look at him but quickly shy away, looking after Ginger.

He makes a face that clearly conveys he doesn't know how to take my statement. I've unintentionally warded him off, offended him somehow. "Well, maybe I should go. I really didn't mean to interrupt you. I just thought it quite the coincidence to find you here. Ginger, come, girl!" He seems like he suddenly feels unwelcome.

Shit, I don't want him to leave. "No! I mean, please stay. It's nice to have company. I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome. I'm enjoying your being here. You know how it is. Clearing your head is one thing but too much time alone just allows the mind to wander. Sometimes a distraction is welcome." I look at him again and force myself not to look away. Our eyes lock, and I am sure that all these feelings I have are not mine alone. He's right here with me.

Ginger chooses that moment to bark at us, jealous that none of the attention is on her. "Would you like to walk? It would make her happy," he says motioning to Ginger.

"Yeah. Sure. That sounds nice." We both stand and make our way to the path. "So what brings a California boy to Boston?"

"Well it's a long ugly story, but here's the short version: marriage gone bad, divorce, lost my best friend, search for a new life. If you want the gruesome details, I'll need a couple of drinks." He forces a laugh, but I can tell that there is pain and loss there.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Sorry, you had to go through that. Sounds like a real shitty situation."

"Whoa, Jules, such language for such a beautiful lady." He laughs, and I can't help but to join him.

"You know so little about me. I can offend sailors on a good day. Don't pretend you weren't there and didn't hear me that first day in Frank's office." He looks at me with surprise and covers his mouth as if to say, "nope, not me." I can't help but to laugh. "Jules, huh? I think I like that. I've never had anyone call me that before. I've never had a nickname at all, I guess."

"Not that your name doesn't match you, because it does. It's classy. But when I see you like this, out of _pro_ mode, I see a more relaxed Jules." Looking over at me he adds, "And I'm glad you like it. I'll always hold this moment close, giving you your first nickname." He places his hand over his heart in an honorary gesture. Then, as if attention deficit has set in, "Hey, you want to go get lunch? There's a deli not too far from here. It has a patio so Ginger can sit with us. I'd love to hang out with you a while."

"I think that would be nice. I don't live far, so I walked here, did you walk?"

"Yeah I did. I'm not far either. So what do you say? I'm starved."

Derick

WE FIND OUR WAY OUT of the park's west end and down not even a block on Charles Street. Jules walks along beside me with only Ginger separating us. The way the sun hits her face, she just lights up. She's freaking beautiful but acts like she has no clue. We make small talk, and she tells me how she lives only a few blocks from the park. I tell her that I too only live about a block and a half away and that the park being so close was a selling point on my loft apartment, for Ginger's sake. We are so close physically yet so far from where I want to be. I just can't figure her out. Maybe running into her today was fate and my chance for a breakthrough.

We walk up to the deli and take a table on the patio. Ginger settles at our feet, and we are the only ones outside. I look up at her, and she quickly looks down at the menu. Was she looking at me?

"So have you ever eaten here?"

"Yes, I stop by every once in a while to pick up dinner. The pastrami with sauerkraut is excellent. But anything they have is good."

"A girl that likes pastrami and sauerkraut? I must say, Jules, I think you're after my heart."

Saved by the waitress, Julia doesn't have to immediately respond to my comment. Although I hope I'll learn something from her reaction. "May I?" She nods to me. "Two pastrami with kraut and I'll have a—" we need something to loosen us up a bit. "Do you have any beer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sam Adams?" She nods. "Great I'll have one. Jules?"

"The same thanks." She smiles at the waitress who then smiles at me, and I can tell that she's trying to gauge the relationship Julia and I have. Usually, a little flirtation would flatter me but right now I am only focused on the beautiful woman before me. I only offer her a quick, friendly smile before directing my focus back to Jules. I don't want to encourage her.

The waitress leaves to fill our orders, and I just want to bombard her with questions, but I can tell that that is not the way I will get to know her. She's different here, away from work, but she is still maintaining some boundaries. I need to find my way around them, and I believe I'll need to have patience. I can't push her, she's not the kind that can be pushed. Thankfully she speaks first.

"I think she's trying to get your attention." She nods her head towards the entrance to the deli, clearly referring to the waitress.

"Really? I hadn't noticed. I'm too focused on you." I smile at her and hope she sees it as genuine. By the blush on her cheeks that wasn't there just a second ago, I'd say it was received as planned. "So how long have you lived here?" I ask her, starting slow.

"I moved to Massachusetts right out of high school and have been here ever since. I actually used to live in Cambridge. In fact, I still did when I got the job at Miljone. I moved to Boston about four and a half years ago. As soon as I spent my first winter here, I knew this was where I wanted to be, and I've never thought of leaving."

"I'm hoping that winter has the same effect on me." I laugh. "But as I said earlier, it'll be my first snow. I'm excited but kind of nervous." I give her a smile. The waitress approaches the table to drop off our beers. She must have decided that her flirtations will continue to go unnoticed because she doesn't linger, and we are able to continue our discussion.

"I can't believe you've never had snow. Everyone brags about California, but I must say, you guys get screwed." She takes a swig of her beer, and I can see she's relaxing. "I've actually never been there. It might be nice to visit one day, but I don't think I could live without the change of colors in the fall or a foot of snow on Christmas morning. But my favorite is the moment spring arrives. All the empty branches on the trees come back to life, and they cycle through all the beauty once again." She takes another swig and giggles. "Sappy right? God, I sound like a vacation commercial for New England."

I smile at her passion and take a drink of my own beer. I just can't stop looking at her. The way her whole face shines when she smiles. "Well if that's what you're selling, I'll buy it." We both laugh.

Our sandwiches show up, and both of us waste no time digging in. I can't help the sounds of satisfaction that escape me when the blissful flavors touch my tongue. I look over, and Jules has her eyes closed while she savors her own. "Mmmmmmmm. This is amazing, Jules."

"I told you. They're excellent! The beer just takes it over the top. Thank you for asking me to lunch today." She takes another bite, and I see it again, the pleasure on her face. If a sandwich and a beer can make her so happy, maybe I have a shot.

"No, thank you for finally saying yes to lunch. You know I have eaten every meal I've had since I moved here all by myself? I was this close to developing a serious complex." I hold up my hand with my fingers held a half-inch apart. I tried to look serious but by the look on her face, she appeared stunned by my words. She's taking me seriously. I need to lighten her perception; I wasn't trying to guilt her. "Jules, I'm just kidding about the complex. But really, I am enjoying this, and I'm glad it's with you."

The seriousness leaves her face and the carefree woman I started this meal with has returned. "I only ever said no because A, I had a lot to do, I'm a very busy girl and B, well I don't usually socialize with co-workers."

"Why is that? We aren't subordinates to each other. So A, it's innocent, for now, anyway." She doesn't miss that one and raises her eyebrows as if to say, "Oh really now?" But I race to my second point, not giving her a chance to object. "And B, you have a partner now to help with all those things _we_ have to do."

"I'm just not a very social person I guess. To be honest I've never been social with anyone at work except Frank."

"So you and Frank..." Oh no, she's going to tell me she's with him or has been. Do I really want to hear the answer to this question?

"No! Oh no, nothing like that." The look on my face must have been obvious because she says it in a way that will quickly discount any thoughts I was having. "Frank was ultimately the one that hired me and he has always stood by me. I owe him a lot. He's just a really good friend."

"Oh." I sigh with relief. "He seems like a good guy, but I'm glad to hear that he's not my competition." I look at her slyly, not sure of what her reaction will be.

She meets my eyes, and I see it all. Nerves, innocence, hope, and fear. What is she so scared of? For such a beautiful young woman, she's so reserved. I will have to assume that something has happened in her past, something painful. I sincerely hope I didn't just cross a line. And God, what made me say that in the first place? I can't help that I met this incredible woman only a couple of weeks ago and from the first moment I knew I had met her for a reason—I felt it.

She takes a drink of her beer and rests the bottle on her lap. She's looking down at it for a minute but lifts her head so she can see me from just under the shield of her lashes. "He's not competition, there is no competition." She lifts her beer to her lips and empties its contents in one smooth swig. It's as if she's searching for courage at the bottom of the amber colored glass.

I pick up mine and do the same. "Another?" I motion to her with my matching bottle.

Picking up her empty bottle she smiles at me, clinking it with mine, and says, "Sure, why not?"

I call the waitress to bring two more and with a nod she disappears back inside. When she reappears, she sets a bottle of beer in front of each of us. This time I can feel her eyes linger on me for a second, but my eyes are on Julia. She disappears once again dissatisfied with my lack of attention.

I pick up my beer and raise it, and she follows suit. "To new partnerships and friendships. And to wherever they may lead us." We clink bottles again and this time it's a real toast, to the future. Hopefully, to our future.

Julia

CONVERSATION WITH HIM FLOWS SO easily. But then again maybe it's the three beers I've had that make it appear that way. I was shy when we ran into each other at the park, but now we are laughing easily and having a good time. He's funny and animated, and I can't help but smile every time he does, which has been almost constantly. Sadly, I have to admit that it's the best time I've had in what seems like forever. He tells me about California where he grew up and went to school. He mentions again that he was married but gives no details except to declare its end. I don't ask because I too have things I'm not yet willing to tell.

We laugh and things feel so comfortable. Before we know it, two hours have passed. I don't want this to end, but I don't know how to convey this without making myself feel weak and needy. But now that I've allowed myself to get to know this man, the man that has caused me to feel again from the very first time we met, I want more. I truly want to find out what it is about him that does this to me.

"I'd like to take you out tonight. What do you say, will you show me your city?" He's not laughing or joking now. He's serious.

"Why, Mr. Edmunds, are you asking me to take you on a date?" I ask flirtatiously, obviously the beer talking.

He looks at me mischievously and nervously bites his upper lip. "Does my asking you to take me on a date offend you. Ms. Morreau?"

"Offend me? Not at all. I haven't done this, the dating thing, in a really long time. But I just have to clear the elephant in the room first. Do you think it's wise? Us being co-workers, I'm just not sure—"

"I'm sure, okay? Trust me." He interrupts me and reaches for my hand and as soon as he takes it, there it is. Electricity. I look at our hands and then up at him. I know right then that he does feel it too. I won't win against him because I won't fight.

"I trust you." And I do.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He and Ginger walk me back home so that I could change for the evening. He leaves with a promise to return at seven, and I watch him walk away feeling like my life is about to change. I'm nervous and scared and excited all at once. I go inside and give his name to the doorman with instructions to send him up to my suite when he arrives.

Walking into my place, it dawns on me what this all means. I am making my first move towards moving on and making a new life. I don't know how to date, I haven't been on a date in sixteen years. What do I do if he kisses me? How far do I allow this to go? How far do I want it to go? Nerves are settling in, and I actually contemplate calling him to cancel. Lucky for me, I don't have his number.

I busy myself for a while tidying up which doesn't entail much because it's just me, and I have to admit I suffer from OCD on multiple levels. Going around the living area, I fluff pillows and straighten the few knickknacks that adorn my simple decor. It's then that I come across the few pictures I have of my family. I don't want to feel like I'm hiding them, but I don't yet want to have to explain them and what happened to them. After six years, it's easier to get through my days, but I don't want anyone to show me pity or think I have a weakness because of what I went through. Right now, I have no idea where this relationship may lead, but I don't see my past as a good icebreaker. I take the pictures and set them on the spare room nightstand. With tears in my eyes, I look at the one of Alex and the kids, it was a Mother's Day gift from them. "Please understand, I just can't share you yet. But please know that I love you." I leave the room, shutting the door behind me.

I finally decide that what I need is a long, hot bath. That will calm me down and relax me. I leave the water running and decide that a glass of wine would add to the valium effect I so desperately need. Walking back into the bathroom I recall the last bath I attempted and can't help but laugh. It had spilled over because I was fantasizing about him. It occurs to me that if I'm reading all of this correctly, that fantasy may soon become a reality. That thought alone causes heat to surge through me and a need to settle between my legs. The thought that his touch, which even in my imagination brings me so much pleasure, could soon be real. My heart and my mind may still be indecisive, but my body is totally on board. The sound of running water interrupts my thoughts. I run to the bathroom just in time to shut off the faucet and as luck would have it, another overflow is narrowly averted. Just the distraction I needed.

I remove my clothes and settle into the hot water. I try not to think about anything at all. I want to clear my mind and let go of all the worries and inhibitions for just a little while. It's hard for me to give up that control. I have had total control of every detail of my life for a long time now, but all I had to control was work and the little time I ever spent away from it. Allowing myself to start a relationship, no matter what it's destined to become, is new territory and a trip to the unknown.

The same questions haunt me. Am I ready for this? I want to be ready, but I wonder if anyone ever really is _ready_. After already having and losing what I once wanted, I try to recall if I was even ready then. Did I even question if I was? The answer is no, I never questioned it then and I finally reason with myself that there is no need to question it now. I am attracted to Derick. I feel completely at ease with him, and there is that connection between us when we touch. So far touching has been limited to our hands. Whatever am I to expect when we finally kiss? With that thought, I know in my heart that I want this. I want him. I know that there is no doubt that I'm going to fall in love with this man. I also have no doubt that Alex has done exactly what I asked him to do. He sent me a sign.

Derick

THE MINUTES JUST WON'T GO by fast enough, seven seems so far away. It turns out we only live about three and a half blocks from each other. All these nights I've spent thinking about her, and she was so close all along. I would think I'd be nervous about tonight, after all, this is my first date since I met my ex-wife. But I'm not nervous, not about the date anyway. Excitement and hope fuel my emotions right now. I must admit I'm a little nervous about getting my heart broken again, but who wouldn't be after the betrayal I experienced? I've been single for almost a year due to the earth-shattering discovery of my wife cheating on me with my best friend. I'm not the single guy type, though. I have an exemplary example in my parents, and I can only hope one day to have what they have had for more than forty years.

Julia puzzles me though. I honestly thought there was a chance that she hated me until today. All the lunch rejections and just the general way she avoids any personal interaction with me. I have noticed though that it's not just me she avoids. That alone gave me some hope. Though she hasn't said as much, I know it's true that she didn't want to accept my position to work beside her. I guess it's been an adjustment for her, that she alone is no longer solely responsible for the function of the office. But personally, I guess I had expected a slightly warmer welcome. There is no denying now what I felt when I first met her, and although I have been good at holding it back, she's been denying it all together.

Today when I saw her sitting on that bench, I saw my in. It only took me a moment to decide that if I was to connect with her this was it, while she was in her element. She looked so beautiful sitting there, looking out over the pond. It looked like she was talking to herself at first, so I kept back to give her privacy. I saw her wipe her face, like maybe she had been crying. She looked so relaxed but not totally at peace, like she was looking for an answer somewhere out there on the rippled water. I tossed Ginger's ball in her direction knowing full well that it would get her attention. Treacherous as it may be, I knew that she wouldn't be able to resist. And I swear I saw a light in her eyes when she saw me. I know it sounds conceited, but I saw peace then, like she had gotten her answer.

The afternoon was amazing. Though she still has only let me in on very little of her life, I feel like the gap is closing and that maybe we can discover what this is that exists between us. I am willing to be patient, but won't deny I'm anxious to see where this may go. I want to touch her again and feel the current that flows between us. I've been craving it since that first day. I want to touch so much more than her hand. I want to caress her cheek. Graze her skin with my fingertips. I want to hold her face in my hands and brush her lips with mine. I want to devour her mouth and sustain this hunger she builds in me. I feel like I need her, and I hope I'll have her soon because I just don't know how much longer I can last. I can't recall ever feeling this way about Ann. I never felt the need. I loved her, yes, if I hadn't I wouldn't have married her, but I never _needed_ her.

Julia is different. I have a feeling that behind this beautiful, headstrong woman is a wounded soul of sorts. It's definitely not that she puts herself out there in that way, but I couldn't help but notice that when I made the comment today about having competition, she shied away. I want her in the worst way, but I want to be patient with her. It's meant to be, I know this in my heart. I just have to remember and trust that the best things, or, in this case, the best woman, is well worth waiting for.

I have no idea what the agenda for the evening will be. I asked her to show me her city, and I will go anywhere and do anything she wants me to do. I gave her the reins, but I still have full intentions of making sure that she is the one that is impressed. It's not about sex with her, although if it is half as good as my fantasies have played out, I will be the luckiest man ever. My goal for tonight is not to get her into my bed, but rather to get into her heart.

After two hours of trying to keep myself from going crazy I've accomplished a workout, a shower and shave, and painful wardrobe decisions. I doubt we are going for a classy, tie-required evening, so I finally settle on a pair of jeans, a button-up shirt, and a sports jacket. I give my hair the _finger comb over_ and spray on some of my favorite cologne. Looking at my reflection I'm a little nervous, like first date nervous, which makes perfect sense. But it feels good.

I walk up to her building at about a quarter to seven. I didn't want to be too early, but waiting was absolutely driving me nuts. I just can't wait to see her. I did take a small detour to buy her a rose. A single rose, the first of many I plan to give her. I make my way through the entrance and up to the security desk.

"Yes, sir, can I help you?" the doorman asks. He seems friendly enough, but I wouldn't cross him.

"Yes, sir, you can. I'm here to see Julia Morreau. My name is Derick Edmunds." He gives me a look as if sizing me up. Is it that Julia doesn't get many visitors or has he ranked me among the others she's had? I dismiss the latter. The way she acts with me, so reserved, I highly doubt there are many others, not that she entertains anyway.

Finally a small grin as he looks at the rose and back at me. I take that as approval. "Yes, sir. She left your name earlier. Go on up, sixth floor, suite B."

"Thank you kindly, sir," I respond and I turn and head towards the elevator.

While inside I feel like I'm going to burst at the seams with built-up anticipation. It almost scares me how badly I want to see her. I lift the rose to my nose and take in its fragrance while the elevator climbs to the sixth floor and with a _ding_ it stops and the doors open. I step out and notice that there are only two suites and go to B.

"Here goes," I say quietly to myself and knock on the door.

"Coming!" She yells from inside.

Seconds later she opens the door, and I'm speechless. She looks beautiful and funny enough her clothing selection looks ironically similar to mine. She's wearing jeans that hug the shape of her legs, a knit top, and a cardigan. Casual, but stunning.

I hold out the rose, and she reaches to take it, blushing just slightly. I like that color on her, it suits her. She lifts the rose to her nose, like I had done just moments ago, and inhales, closing her eyes for a long second.

"It's beautiful, thank you, it's very thoughtful."

"Not as beautiful as you, but then that's not a fair comparison." And again I get to see the pink on her cheeks. I can and will say whatever it takes to see her blush all evening.

She looks at me, right into my eyes. For a long moment I'm lost, we're lost together. She's the one to break the connection.

"So, are you a late eater?"

"Sometimes, I guess." Weird question. And my face must convey my thoughts.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go do some sightseeing and stop for dinner later. I'm still full from lunch. Or we don't have to eat at all, we could snack, dessert, whatever you want." She's not being the stern and in control person I witness at the office, she's so much softer and pleasing.

"I am yours to do with what you will." Again she's blushing. "How about we figure it out as we go?"

"Sounds like a plan. You know we aren't far from some really great parts of the city. Would you like to walk and take a little more advantage of this fall weather? I figure we might hop on the train too, a couple of the places we might go to are a little farther."

"Call it presumptuous, but I actually walked here." A laugh escapes.

"Presumptuous maybe, but I prefer to call it insightful."

She leaves the room briefly, and I glance around to take in the room. Maybe I can get a feel for her tastes. She doesn't have a lot of decoration. The room is very well kept and uncluttered; the word pristine comes to mind. I don't think I will learn much from what I see until I spot the cello on a stand in the corner. Given the lack of interior decorating I figure she must play and that it's not just for visual pleasure. She returns with a small purse in tow, and I can smell her freshly applied perfume. I'll tuck my questions about the instrument away for now, but I'm very intrigued.

"Shall we, Mr. Edmunds?" She leads the way out, and we step out onto the sidewalk and head in the direction of the Public Garden. Down Beacon Street, in the Back Bay are mostly brownstone condos and townhomes, but here and there you'll see a business. They're mostly consulting companies and such, they don't come with a lot of foot traffic. In Boston itself there are tons of small businesses that she explains are mostly multi-generationally owned, old money. I enjoy watching her and can tell by the way she talks about it that she loves this place. She goes on about the architecture and how preserved and respected the buildings are, how each has a history. She's so different here than at work, so relaxed but equally passionate. I think this is the real her and I feel like I've been let in on a secret seeing her this way, I don't think a lot of people get to.

We are walking close enough for our arms to brush together every once in a while but for me it's not close enough. I want to reach out and grab her hand or to put my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer. I was never very good at first moves and because I never lived the life of a player, I haven't any tricks of the trade. She takes us past the edge of the garden at Arlington, and I truly have no clue as to where we're going.

"Have you done any sightseeing since you've been here?"

"Not really, no."

"So you have no clue right now as to where I might be taking you?"

"None at all."

"One last question then. Were you ever into Eighties sitcoms?" She stops and points to the sign. I didn't see it because I wasn't paying attention to anything but her. Then she starts singing, "Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name." And it's then I realize the sign she's pointing at says "Cheers EST.1895."

We both break into laughter. "That was the best intro I've ever seen. You want to go in and have a beer? Maybe Norm's hanging out." Again we laugh.

"Don't be disappointed, okay? It doesn't look exactly like it did in the show. But it's a Boston icon. All your friends will laugh at you if you tell them you live in Boston, only two blocks from Cheers and have never gone there."

Friends, I have none anymore, but she has one hell of a point.

Derick

WE WALK OUT OF CHEERS a little looser, more relaxed and having fun like I never expected. We head back down Arlington, and I spot a store that has a window display of sheet music and two mannequins, one holding a violin and the other a flute. Without thinking I grab hold of her hand and pull her towards the store. She doesn't resist, and she's nearly running to keep up with my long strides.

Once in the store I don't let go of her hand, and she doesn't attempt to break the connection either. Finally, we're connected.

"I thought you might like this store. I saw the cello in your living room. Do you play?"

She looks at me and her eyes sparkle. She answers as she marvels at the instruments hanging on the wall. "Yes, I do. I started when I was twelve, and I was in the concert orchestra all through high school. I stopped for a while, you know—while life had other plans for me—but took it back up a few years ago. Only it's like a therapy now, a de-stressor of sorts."

"I would love to hear you play sometime. I am not at all musically gifted. I dance all right, and I love to listen to all genres but creating it just isn't my thing." For a second she looks a little skeptical at my request.

"We'll see, Mr. Edmunds. I haven't played for anyone in more than fifteen years. I do still play sometimes though. I'd have to trust you not to critique me too harshly." There is a shy but flirtatious tone to her statement.

"I won't critique you at all, I promise." I look at her face, and it says so much. She in some ways is like me. She's not going to give her heart to just anyone, but when she does she'll give it completely. "Hey, I happen to know there's an ice cream shop around the corner, are you in the mood for dessert?"

"I would love dessert." God if she only knew how much that phrase gets to me. Dessert. I so want to give her that, but mine wouldn't necessarily be vanilla.

We leave the music store and walk to the ice cream shop, still hand in hand. I feel like a twenty-year-old on a first date. With every moment I spend with this woman it's harder to deny what I feel. I know I am very much in trouble because I'm going to fall in love with her. I think I already am.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

I can't believe he brought me to the music store, how he knew that I would love it. Okay, yes I have the cello on a stand in the corner of the living room, but why would he just assume that it was something I love and not just some decoration I chose? Well, I guess when I consider the lack of decor, I can understand how he made the connection. My music is a secret that not even Alex knew of. He knew I had the cello, but I let him believe it was my father's, just another token I kept. I stopped playing before we got together and didn't start back up until after he was gone, just like I told Derick, as a therapy. Now Derick knows a truth I never even told my husband. My cello was something I found in the attic while cleaning out the house, and couldn't bear to part with. But Derick knew. He made the connection, and right away he understood, I didn't have to explain.

I'm falling for this guy. I want to stop it but at the same time I don't. I've had so many fantasies of him over the last few weeks, and now he is here, and there is no mistaking that he feels something for me as well. I don't quite know how to handle this just yet. Do I act or wait for him? I do know one thing: I don't want this night to end.

We walk into the ice cream shop and place our order. I get a vanilla sundae with pineapple and caramel, and he gets a hot fudge with extra nuts. We settle in at a table, and both dig in. This is too perfect. But after a couple of bites, I drop my spoon into my cup and press the heel of my hand to my forehead. Derick starts laughing.

"And just what's so funny about me having a brain freeze?" I say wincing at the pain.

"Nothing, except the fact that, why is it we never learn how to avoid them? Take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. It helps."

I do as he suggests, and almost immediately the pain lessens. "That's a little better. Maybe I should take it a little slower, you'd think I haven't ever had ice cream." I look at him with a smile and spoon up another bite. "So I know this isn't a couple of beers, but you know ice cream is the next best thing when it comes to talking about shitty relationships. It's usually a girl code thing, of course, but can I ask what happened with your marriage? I mean it's ultimately what brought you here isn't it?"

"It's exactly what brought me here and now that I am here and have met you, it makes the whole thing seem more like a blessing." He makes eye contact, and I'm positive I'm blushing, but he goes on. "Well, I was married for ten years, pretty much right out of college. It started off feeling like love. I thought I was in love with her. I tried everything to make it work, but she would cut me off at every pass. I wanted kids, and she didn't. That was a big one. Finally one day I came home early to find her and my best friend together." I gasp, and he takes another bite of his ice cream. "Anyway, she gave me all the bullshit excuses for what she did, but the funny thing is I just didn't care anymore. I had been fighting for something that was over a long time ago. Honestly, I think it was what I needed, the kick in the ass to free myself from a relationship that was dead and had no chance of revival. The only part that still pisses me off was losing my best friend. That betrayal ran much deeper because we grew up together. In the end though, it freed me and now I have a chance again to find real love."

While he says the last line, he looks intently at me and my eyes are locked with his. We are sitting here eating frozen treats, but I am totally on fire, feeling like any moment my body might burst into flames. This man is going to be responsible for my undoing. And I plan to go willingly because there is definitely no question as to what I want to happen between us. The flutter in my stomach and a tingling between my legs is making what I want very clear.

"Jules, I don't want you to think I'm coming on too strong, and I know we work together but, I know you feel it, there's something between us." He reaches across the table and takes my hand, and just like every other time—sparks.

I nod. "I do." I don't break eye contact with him.

"And? If you can't because of our professional relationship, I'll find a new job tomorrow." I smile sheepishly. "I'm serious! I don't want anything to stand in the way. I want this beautiful, intelligent woman sitting across from me to want me as much as I've been wanting her."

"And who says she doesn't?"

He gives me an incredulous look and smiles. In a voice that conveys genuine intent, he asks, "Would you like to come back to my place with me? I'll keep my hands to myself. We can do anything you want. I'm sure Ginger would love to see you again."

"I'd love to see her again too. But I want you to tell me something."

"What's that?"

"That you were lying when you said you'd keep your hands to yourself." Oh, holy mother! I can't believe I just said that but I meant it.

"I wasn't lying, but I'm willing to take it back."

"I'll take that." On one floor of this very tall building that I built to protect myself, the walls just came tumbling down.

He grabs my hand to help me out of the booth and smiles as he entwines his fingers with mine. His eyes are sparkling like he just received a gift he never expected. This both excites me and makes me nervous as hell at the same time. But even as nervous as I am about what may happen tonight, I want it more than anything.

We walk together, hands still linked in an odd silence for a while, my mind reeling. It's been fifteen years since I dated, six since I've been touched by a man. But, an ease rests over me when I think about what he told me about his marriage, it was right out of college. It's possible that it's been awhile for him too. I suppose he may have had a fling or two after the split, but I get the feeling that he didn't. So together we are starting over like two young kids, venturing into distantly familiar, however recently uninhabited territory.

Approaching the front of a brownstone, he tugs my hand as we ascend the steps. I guess I expected him to live in a condo too, like me. But with Ginger it makes sense that a small yard is a real estate requirement. As we enter, we are greeted by Ginger, and it is unmistakable how happy she is to see Derick. He ruffles her ears and shows me into the living room.

"Have a seat and make yourself at home. Red or white wine?"

"Red, thank you." I sit and look around the room while he goes to the kitchen. The room kind of reminds me of my own, very little to tell me about the man of this house. At least he has the _just moved in_ excuse that I don't. It's a loft apartment, which I couldn't tell from the outside. The bedroom is up in the loft area and can be seen from where I sit on the couch. For a moment sitting here all alone all I can think to look at is the bed.

He comes back with a bottle and two glasses. Setting them on the coffee table, he sits down beside me on the couch and leans forward to fill our glasses. He hands one to me and takes his own and sits back. He takes a sip of his wine and just looks at me for a moment. I nervously sip my own wine and glance at him briefly before glancing away.

My heart is picking up the pace, and I feel a warmth spreading all over my body. It's not the wine, it's being alone and so close to this beautiful man that is setting me on fire. As I wait for him to say something, anything, I look back up and meet his eyes. Click. We are locked in on each other. He sits forward, setting his wine back on the table and takes mine to do the same. Adrenaline is coursing through my body, a high I've never experienced.

He places his hand on my cheek, and I lean into his touch. Just this is enough to make me want more of what's been missing for so, so long. He looks into my eyes "You are so incredibly beautiful. I haven't gone one day since meeting you without wanting you. I felt it the first time we met, when I took your hand. I knew right then that everything I had endured was for that moment."

"I felt it too." It's barely a whisper, far from the confident woman I usually am. I want him to kiss me more than I've wanted anything in so long. And in that second of wanting, he acts. I need to want no more. His lips are pressed to mine, softly at first but becoming harder and more needy with every breath. My mind goes blank of everything but the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hands on me. I feel desperate for more, to have him closer.

I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer, and he responds by pulling me to his lap and holding me with his arms now wrapped around my waist. I'm so lost in him, it's just us in this moment. Every feeling of nervousness is gone, need and wanting replace it. He pulls back nearly panting, leaving us both to catch our breath but keeps one arm wrapped securely around me. He doesn't want me to move any more than do I.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that. I apologize if it caught you off guard, but I'm not at all sorry I did it." He's searching my face, trying to gauge my thoughts, and it would appear that from the smile that takes over his face that he sees a mirror of his own. For the first time in six years, I worry for nothing.

I smile back and lean into him kissing his lips again softly. There's no rush now that the initial urgent need is satisfied. He places his hand on the side of my face, pulling back just enough to speak. "Are you okay with this?" I nod. I'm sure.

Looking into his eyes I can see the sincerity. He won't go any further than I want him to. How do I convey to him that right now there is no limit? I don't do things I regret, that part of me, even with this man, has not changed, and there is nothing that can happen right now or ever that would change it. The assertive, in charge part of me wants nothing more than to surrender to this man right now, to let him take the lead. I close the distance between us, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and following the trail down his jaw line, down his neck, and settling in the crook of his shoulder. His cologne smells delicious, and I rest there to memorize his scent.

When I lift my head back up and meet his eyes again, they are on fire. Burning with lust and an urgency that makes me want to do anything for him. I don't think, not even for a second, because if I do I'm afraid I'll deny us both what we so badly want right now.

I nod to him, "I want this." Again only a whisper leaves my lips, and before he can mistake that for uncertainty, I press my lips to his again.

His primal male instinct kicks in and in one fluid motion he is standing and carrying me but never removing his mouth from mine. I don't think about where he is taking me, I only know that I want to be wherever he is. Up the stairs to the loft, he sets me on the bed falling alongside me. He breaks from our kiss, caressing the side of my face and grazes the side of my neck with his fingers. I tip my head back giving him full access. Every place he touches is left wanting to be touched again. And he satisfies that want by following the same trail with his lips. A whimper escapes me as other parts of me ignite. It's amazing to feel my body react to him, knowing that his is reacting as well.

He pulls away and stands, positioning himself in front of me and reaching for my hands. For a second I'm afraid he has changed his mind, but he pulls me to stand in front of him, places a soft kiss on my lips and runs both his hands over my shoulders catching the cardigan I'm wearing and assisting in its descent from my body. I just keep my eyes on him, all fear that he's changed his mind is lost when I see his focus and delight with one less barrier between us. He proceeds to run the tips of his fingers down the front of my shirt grazing my breasts lightly, leaving a tingle in his wake. When he reaches the hem of my shirt, he slides his hand under it and touches the bare skin of my stomach.

My breath hitches as another area of my body that has been denied another's touch for so long is finally liberated. I want him to touch every inch of my skin, to wash it free of its loneliness, to bring it back to life. I reach for him now touching him as he does me. I want to see him too, to feel him uncovered. I start with the top button and pull it free, keeping my eyes locked on his the entire time, working down to the next. He stands there willing me to learn him, to know he's learning me. Each button that comes undone reveals more of him until the last is free causing his shirt to fall open and his chest to be completely exposed to me.

I put my hands on him and lean in to lay feather light kisses on his chest. He smells delicious, causing the hunger in me to grow full tilt. He sucks in his own breath as I touch him. He returns to his task of lifting the bottom of my shirt. I accommodate him by moving so that he can pull it over my head smoothly. As the cloth leaves my body, his eyes work their way over me. I am anxious, I have not been this bare for a man in a long time, but seeing his growing lust is reassuring.

It's not that I mind him taking his time with me, but now that we've gotten this far I am dying for the pleasure I have been denied, for the release. I reach behind me to undo my bra and with a shrug of my shoulders it falls slowly from my body. I want his skin on my skin. I want nothing between us. I move close, pressing my breasts against his warm chest, I press my lips to his. I need to convey that he is what I need.

He gets my message loud and clear, and it only takes him a second to reach for my jeans, pushing them down over my hips and freeing me of their burden. Kicking them off with my feet, I reach for his as well, first just unbuttoning them and sliding my hand between the fabric that's holding him from me. There is absolutely no questioning that our need for each other is mutual, and that's what pushes any further doubt from my mind. He returns his lips to mine, taking the time to explore my mouth with his tongue and my body with his hands. He guides me blindly back towards the bed never breaking our kiss until I fall to the bed, when he then finishes the task of removing his jeans and briefs.

I gasp, at his size, his readiness, and how amazingly sexy this man is. I am so ready for this, ready for him to make all my fantasies look like a joke. He leans over softly grabbing my panties and sliding them down my legs. We are both bare before each other and aroused to no end. He reaches for his drawer and pulls out a little packet. My rational thinking is so far gone that I wouldn't have even asked. I'm glad one of us is still able to think cognitively with the growing sexual tension building with every second. He removes it and puts the condom on and leans back down over me, kissing me.

He lifts himself up just so I can see his face, "There are so many things I want to do to you. But right now I just want you so badly, I'm afraid I won't last. Are you ready for this, for us?"

"I am." His eyes are burning with so much desire, and I know he can see the same in mine. He kisses me again and presses his cock to my opening and thrusts himself inside me. Oh, my God! I'm surprised the way he fills me and by how fucking good it feels. He moves slowly to allow me to adjust to him and seems to know when I'm ready for more. With more speed and more force, he reminds my body how much pleasure there is to be had. My orgasm builds with a fury that by itself is a force to be reckoned with. He must feel it too, my walls tightening around him. He looks into my eyes and it's as if a silent agreement is made. We come together, with moans and screams of pure pleasure. Two people finding release and breaking a tension that has existed since that first handshake. Was this really the beginning of an _us_? Tonight, I don't want to think, I just want to enjoy this moment.

Derick

WE LIE HERE; OUR BODIES are still pressed together. I hug her close and hope to God she doesn't try to leave tonight. Instead, we make love twice more until exhaustion takes over us, and now she sleeps in my arms. It never felt like this with Ann. There were feelings but now I'm convinced that they were never the right ones. Not like the ones I already feel for this woman.

I know so little about her really, and she doesn't volunteer much information. Maybe I should find that troubling, but it just means I want to take the time to know her. In time, she'll trust me enough to let me in. There's nothing she could possibly tell me that would make any difference to me anyway. I may be setting myself up for the ultimate let down at some point, but I'm willing to risk it. For weeks, I've thought of nothing but her, and now that I've had her I will never let her go.

It's been a little more than a year since my divorce and my first intentions were to be ruthless and reckless. Never tie myself down again. Hell, I took my vows seriously, and that didn't work so well, not with her. So I thought I would change my hopeless romantic spots and just be the guy that didn't care. Meaningless sex, no strings attached, I thought I could do it. But I couldn't. That's not me, and I could never treat someone that way. So I figured I'd just sit back and let fate take charge. I honestly think that fate is at work here. I believe there's a reason I'm here and why I'm holding her now.

What will the conversation between us be in the morning? Will she tell me that _we_ can't be? I was serious when I told her I would find a new job if she thought our working together would be a problem. That's just how positive I am that this is meant to be. She's mine, and I won't let her go without a fight.

Finally, I drift off feeling for the first time in a year that I am exactly where I should be, with exactly whom I should be with. It's calming and scary all the same, but it's right.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I wake in the morning to Julia nuzzling closer to me, and it's a welcome feeling. I can't tell if she's awake yet but if she's dreaming, she's happy. I'd like to think I have a little something to do with that. I squeeze her a little tighter and kiss the top of her head. A hum of acknowledgment and acceptance escapes her, and I know she's just waking up.

"Good morning, beautiful," I say in a low raspy morning voice. I still can't believe I finally get to say that to her.

"Good morning." She shifts just a little so she can look up at me and kisses the underside of my chin.

"Not that I want you to have plans that don't include me for the day, but what are your plans for today?" Please say staying with me.

While continuing to kiss my neck and down to where she's settled on my chest, she takes small pauses to speak. "Well, I really don't have any, except I'll have to go home, to shower and change at some point. If you don't want me to have plans that don't include you, I suppose you should make plans that do."

Flipping her to her back and moving so that we are at eye level I kiss her lips softly. "Consider them made. First of which is to make love to you."

She hums in agreement, and I kiss her again a little harder.

"Then, coffee." Another kiss. "Then we'll decide the rest together." I kiss my way down until I'm able to take her nipple in my mouth and flick it with my tongue making it taut and then moving to the other.

Her breath is already coming short as her body grows ready for me. "If I wasn't so damned addicted to coffee, I'd tell you it's not necessary, because what you're doing is much better than coffee." She's almost breathless already.

"Well, you can have as much of this as you want." Rising back up to meet her lips again I reach between her thighs to feel just how _awake_ she is. "For me, this is definitely the best part of waking up."

I slide into her and marvel at the feel of her around me. It's perfect. We fit perfectly, made for each other. I could never get tired of this. In fact, every little taste leaves me wanting more. She reaches her arms around me and clutches my back, digging her nails into my skin, enough to drive me wild. She's not aggressive but it is a far cry from the shyness of our first time together last night. She's letting go, and it feels amazing. Working myself in and out of her is completely addicting. The feel of her, I will never get enough of it no matter how much she gives.

I feel her start to tighten around me and know that her orgasm is close. Her head is tilted back slightly, and her eyes are closed. I want to see her while she explodes with passion, the passion I give her.

"Julia, baby, please look at me. I want to see you." She opens her eyes, and they meet mine. That's all it takes for both of us to plunge full on and together. Her eyes stay glued to mine, and I see so many emotions in those eyes. Some I don't understand but just as many I do. I feel as if she's somewhere else but here with me at the same time.

As we both relax after our high, I kiss her softly, feeling like after what I saw in her eyes, she needs tenderness.

"Jules, are you okay?" She must know what I saw though I don't know the reasons. I won't press her, I want her to tell me on her own.

"I'm okay," she whispers, and lifts her head up to kiss me, softly, like I did a moment ago. Some of the darkness has left her eyes and the light is returning.

"Do you know how beautiful you are? Most of all when you're coming with me. You're amazing, Julia." Her eyes begin to gloss over, and I'm ignorant as to what I've done or said that would do this to her. There's something inside there, and it's painful and I've somehow brought it to the surface. I would take it back, if I only knew what it was.

"You're pretty amazing yourself and thank you. How about that coffee now?" She's completely diverted and smiles like nothing was ever off.

"You got it. If you want to use the shower here, there are some towels in the closet, help yourself." I stand up from the bed grabbing my jeans from the floor and pull them on to go to the kitchen. I lean over her and kiss her nose. "Coffee will be ready when you are." And with that I leave her looking absolutely beautiful in my bed but also giving her the time she needs. I am a patient man, and I can wait. For her, I will wait forever if I must.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

I should just tell him and get it out of the way. If this is the start of something, keeping secrets is a bad idea, but I'm just not ready. I know he caught on that something is wrong. I just wasn't prepared to hide my emotions. I should have known that getting back out there and starting my life again was going to have its moments, but I never imagined how quickly they may come.

When he said, I was beautiful when we... there was just no holding back. It wasn't what he said exactly, being that it was something Alex had said to me so long ago. It was that I could tell that he meant it, and it made me remember how it felt to be cherished. I've been missing that for so long and have convinced myself that I would never feel that way again, but Derick made me feel it.

I get out of his bed and head for the bathroom, stopping at the closet for a towel and washcloth. I turn on the shower and go about securing my hair in a knot on top of my head. I step in and feel relaxed as the warm water cascades over my body. My thoughts drift back to the night before and this morning. Waking up with someone, a warm body holding me protectively was amazing. After six years of a cold, lonely bed, I can easily get used to this. He hasn't asked yet, not that he will, but if he asks me to stay, I know I will. I guess giving myself no other option than to be alone has worked for me, but I think deep inside I don't want to be alone anymore.

I squeeze some of his body wash onto my washcloth and inhale its scent, it's his and I think that it might be my new favorite. I'm okay with the fact that everything in here is his and manly scented. It helps to avoid the jealousy that I'm afraid I won't be able to control if I did see feminine items. I don't think bringing me here was orchestrated, he may have hoped for it, but I don't believe it was _the_ plan.

I feel refreshed but saddened that, in showering, I removed all traces of him from me. But my head is clearer, and I feel like everything's going to be okay. Though I'm not going to tell him everything now, I will eventually, the timing just has to be right. I know he will understand, but I'm not sure how he'll react. No matter how much reassurance I might give, being the first man I've been with since Alex may put pressure on him that I can't let him bear. If this is meant to be between us, I want to know he has confidence in us first.

Dressed back in my clothes from the night before, I pad down the stairs. Never having received a tour of his place, though there's not much to it, I follow the smell of coffee and his voice. I get caught right outside the entrance of the kitchen by a very excited Ginger.

"Good morning, girl! How are you this morning, huh?" I scratch her ears, and she bounces next to me as I enter the kitchen and spot Derick leaning against the counter sipping his coffee.

"Well, there she is." A huge smile takes over his face. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Black, thank you." Grabbing the hot mug from him, I take a sip and close my eyes enjoying the taste and aroma. "You make good coffee! Maybe you can give my secretary a lesson. She's hopeless, and the reason I have a maker in my office."

"I'd rather keep my technique my secret for now, I don't want you leaving me for your secretary." He laughs and winks at me, and I can't help but smile.

"Sorry to disappoint you but she doesn't have what I need, you on the other hand..."

"Hold that thought, because if you say it right now, we may never leave the house today." The mischievous look on his face tells me he wouldn't actually mind the consequences so much. I don't think I would mind either, but if we are going to move anywhere close to a relationship it can't be based solely on sex. Even though, so far, it has been totally amazing sex.

I make the motion of zipping my lips, then locking them and throwing away the key. He mocks a pout as though he's disappointed, but then a shit-eating grin takes over his face, and he laughs.

"Fine. Well, I was thinking maybe we could take a ride up the coast, maybe find a mom and pop place that has seafood, I'm dying for some fresh fried clams."

"That sounds great. There's a great place in Plymouth we could go to, right on the water. Can we stop by my place first so I can change? Then I'm all yours." I hate to say it and chance ruining the mood, but I have to. "Can we get a necessary but slightly uncomfortable conversation out of the way first?"

"Sure, what's up?" He's nervous, and he doesn't want to look at me.

"Work. I just don't know how well an open knowledge of us being together will be received. It's still new for us, so I'd like to—"

"Keep it quiet for now," he says, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I hope that doesn't offend you. It's not about you at all. I don't share anything personal there and until we know where _this_ is going—"

He walks over and slips his arms around me and places a single finger lightly over my lips. "Stop. It's okay, you don't have to explain. I understand, and as much as I would like to announce that you are indeed off the market, I respect the work/personal relationship. This is, for now, our little secret, just between us." And with that I get a kiss on the nose, which makes me giggle. I can't recall in the last six years when I felt like this, so free and so connected to something other than work.

"So, mom and pop seafood and what else?"

"You and me, and the day before us. Do we need anything more?"

"Absolutely nothing." I don't need nor want anything but him.

Julia

SPENDING TIME WITH DERICK IS so easy, so effortless, so comfortable. It sometimes makes me feel guilty to again have something worth waking up to. For so long, I've been almost robotic, running the same sequence every day with little or no change. Now even when I wake up alone, I'm happy and smiling, ready to see what the day has in store. Though waking up alone is something I seldom do now. I had started out being the strong one, insisting that I stay at my own place at least during the week. I was trying to maintain some level of independence, but I haven't been at my place, any longer than it takes to pack the essentials, in almost a week now. Waking up with his strong arms around me and him whispering in my ear is quickly becoming a necessity. He makes it so easy for me to _need_ him.

It's been four weeks since Derick and I took that step to being more than just professional partners. Twenty-eight days since I let myself go and allowed myself to feel again. I have no regrets, but I'm still holding back, keeping the fragile pieces of my life from him. I don't want him to know I've been broken.

I'm filled with guilt every time he shares a new piece of himself with me. His family sounds like that of a TV sitcom, constantly supportive and ever forgiving. He loves them all so dearly, and I can tell that being so far from them is hard for him.

It's so different from my past. After my father died my family fell apart; we were never again _together_ , our glue was gone. My mother took to drinking and became the town nuisance, and my brother became withdrawn and hateful. That's when I started playing music, it was my coping mechanism. It made me feel like I was taking my raw, angry energy and making something beautiful. I used that same technique again after the accident. In fact as much as I love it, I only feel the need for my music when I feel I've lost control.

The only control I've lost lately is when it comes to my body. After years of slumber all it took was his kiss to wake it up and to keep it hungry. It's part of the reason I don't go home. It's not all about the sex. It's about the contact, both physically and mentally; being able to connect with someone. Wanting to have that connection. It's really a wonder that no one at work has called us out, especially Frank. As agreed, we don't publicize our relationship, but the looks that pass between us sometimes last too long. Anyone paying attention would be suspicious. So, Derick and I have taken to going out to lunch nearly every day. It's the one hour during the day that we don't have to keep our professional guard up. We are sure to behave ourselves only because we never know who may be in our audience, but even that becomes less important to us by the day. Just sitting together and being alone with him for that hour reassures me of what I'm feeling and how much I hate to be without him.

Thursday we agree on a lunch of Chinese takeout in my office. But as I enjoy my mushroom chicken, Derick just sits watching me. I look at him and quirk an eyebrow at him. Setting down my box I give him a questioning look.

"Derick, what's going on?"

"My family's coming here for Thanksgiving. My mother said they can't expect me to take time off work to come back to California. Even in my adulthood we've always spent it together."

"Isn't that good news? You seem to miss them so much." I am happy for him. Even as a grown man I can tell that sometimes the distance is hard for him. I've learned to deal with distance, but it's still new to him.

"It is good news. I can't wait to see them." He takes a deep breath. "I want you to meet them, to spend the holiday with us." His words come out confident and without a hint of question, more of a subtle demand. He has no clue how this scares me.

My last _meeting of the parents_ didn't go well and to be perfectly honest I don't know that I'm ready to do it again, but Derick is becoming something I feel like I can't live without. I don't know that I'm ready for more, and this is such a huge step. I'm lost in what we have right now, and I'm afraid to push too hard, too fast. Does it have to change already?

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Derick. Meeting your family is a big step, very big. We haven't been together long. What if they don't like me? What will that do to you and how you feel about me? I don't want them to think I'll do to you the same thing she did to you." I feel like the air is literally being sucked out of me, I can't breathe. Was I ever prepared to spend the holiday with him? The answer is yes, but I had felt comfortable knowing it would just be us.

He comes to my side, turns my chair so that I face him and squats, so we are at eye level. He grabs my hands and squeezes them gently. "Jules, it's okay. Relax, babe. Breathe." I take a couple of deep breaths and look down to avoid his eyes. I'm scared of what I'll find there. So instead I focus on his gentle but strong hands and will myself to keep breathing. Everything about his touch calms me. "If you don't want to, I'm okay with that. Jules, I will never force you to do anything. My past is just that, and my family is going to love you. They'll be able to see how special you are to me, how different you make me. I would love for you to be there with me." And in the privacy of my office he sneaks in a kiss on my nose. It doesn't fail, as it never does, to remind me just how lucky I am to have him and to make me smile.

There's a sense of making this thing between us so official by taking part in a family gathering. Although I have allowed myself to go this far already, taking this next step scares me to death. But I'll do it for him; I'll try for him because he deserves this. I nod and smile at him, "I want to meet them. For you." His eyes light up, and I have a feeling that he's considering blowing our secret to ravish me with kisses, but he settles with one quick soft touch to my lips.

"Thank you." It is a whisper but just the way he says these two words tells me everything he feels. Thankfulness, relief, joy, and love.

Sooner rather than later I'm going to have to be completely honest with him. It's that or risk what I know in my heart is the second chance I never expected. A chance I never even thought I wanted until I met him. I've already surpassed my own limits of how much I wanted to care for this man. I thought that I had set strong boundaries. I thought I could protect myself, but I also never thought I was capable of feeling this much. I have to share myself with him the way he already has with me. I can't hold back my feelings, my past, and my fears and expect him to believe me when I find the courage to say what's in my heart. When I just can't hold it in anymore. When I tell him that I have fallen in love with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

Julia is such a strong woman, her command and confidence never faltering. So it amazes me just how soft and vulnerable she can be when it's just the two of us. It's almost like she is two completely different people. In her work, she has complete and utter control, never a moment of second-guessing and absolutely no regrets. But with me she surrenders, trusting me, and relying on me in a way I would've never thought imaginable. No doubt she would not hesitate to counter me if she felt threatened or in a position of disrespect, but she knows I would never do that to her. Her submissiveness confirms that she knows that. Still my mind becomes conflicted when I see her like this. I have to know that it's not me that weakens her but that her confidence in my strength is what makes her capable of trusting me so much.

She's agreed to meet my family. That thought alone has me bursting at the seams. I know that once they meet her they will see why I feel the way I do about her. I called my mother the other night; actually that's when I learned of their decision to come for the holiday. It was so nice to hear my mother's voice and finally being able to tell her what I haven't been able to say to Julia. Having a conversation with my mother has always been easy. I say she worries too much, but she understands me. She supports me, and most of all she trusts me to know what is right for me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Derick, honey, I have the most exciting news! We are coming to see you for Thanksgiving. All of us." All of us, means my parents, my sister, her husband, and my two-year-old nephew, Issac.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, your sister and I will cook dinner and you boys can look after Issac. I just can't stand the thought of you spending your first holiday away from home all alone." Her reasons are genuine but my mother also loves to travel, so my location being far from home is a bonus.

"That'll be great, Mom. It's funny how somehow you've suddenly managed to make me feel like I'm nineteen again. Worried about me being alone, I am thirty-six years old." We both laugh. Her concern for her children has always been a priority, but she is also respectful of the boundaries set.

"I just worry about you a little bit, you can't fault me for that. You've been through a lot in the last year and then you up and move across the country! You are a grown man, and you are a smart man and I trust your decisions, but that doesn't make me not miss and worry about you."

"I miss you too Mom, but I'm happy here. Much happier than I thought I could be. This move is actually the best decision I've ever made." If she could see the smile on my face she'd swear I was the cat that caught the mouse.

"Is there a secret message in that statement? You know I'm not usually a nosy mother, but you can't make a statement like that and then leave me hanging." I laugh at her excitability. "Derick Allen Edmunds!" Her motherish tone has always made me laugh. My mother had instilled respect in my sister and me, and that was a very good thing because she lacked the ability to scare us with harsh tones and manners of speaking.

"I can keep it a secret or better yet make you wait 'til I see you." I hear her heavy sigh and know that if I let this linger any longer she may, in fact, explode. "I've met someone here."

"You have? I didn't think you would be looking so soon, son." She sounds worried. I don't blame her, she saw what Ann did to me.

"I wasn't looking, Mom. But I found her anyway, or she found me. I'm not really sure which way it was."

"Please forgive me, son, for saying so, but I was there when, well you know. I just don't want to see you go through that again." Her words are laced with motherly concern.

"She's different. She's like me. She's somehow broken by her past and in need of saving. I feel like I was meant to be here, to meet her."

"You love her, don't you?" Of course, I have thought about it. I think about it every night when she falls asleep in my arms and every morning that she wakes up in the same place. Every time I kiss her and every time I make love to her. But saying it aloud takes it from the shelter of my thoughts and leaves me feeling vulnerable.

"I do." I thought I would feel anxious, but a feeling of relief settles over me. "I love her."

"Will we be meeting her then when we come out? She's got to be something, son, because I believe the words you just said. More than I ever believed them when you said them about Ann." I can tell she is tearing up, she always did when she was happy for me.

"I'll see what I can do. Thank you, Mom."

"I'll see you next week. I love you, sweetie."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Our evening is quiet, and I can tell Julia is unsettled. I also have an idea that it has everything to do with the conversation we had earlier that day. She snuggles against me on the couch and stares into the fire. She may not be telling me what's going on in her head, but physically she conveys the need for my strength. She may not know it, but she has me wrapped around her finger, and whatever she needs, I want to give her.

"Talk to me, Jules." She snuggles closer but remains staring at the fire.

"About what?"

"About what's going on in that head of yours. You're quiet and distant."

She finally lifts her head to look up at me and kisses the underside of my jaw. "It's nothing."

"For what men know, nothing is always something. I want you to be able to tell me anything. If it bothers you, it bothers me." She isn't like any woman I have ever known. She isn't dependent or weak. When she is ready to tell me, she will. When she needs me, I will be here. But now apparently isn't the time for admissions.

She sits up enough to pull herself to face me and leans in stopping nearly millimeters from my lips, "Don't let it." She closes the distance between us that just seconds ago seemed so far, pressing her lips to mine. This conversation is over, and something more intense is about to ensue.

She repositions herself to straddle my lap, her intentions loud and clear. Her skirt is pulled up her legs so I can see her thighs and only a dainty pair of lace panties between her sex and my slacks. I can feel her heat radiating through them, and my cock is quickly responding. Her kiss is becoming more urgent, and her hands are blindly grabbing at the fabric between us. She needs it gone so that our skin is touching. I'm in total agreement and want nothing between us except the heat we create together. She leaves my lips, and I wait impatiently while she unbuttons my shirt and pushes it open, letting her hands linger on my chest, leaving trails of heat at her touch.

I take her face, raking my hands through her hair pulling her closer to me and she softens, relinquishing the control she had just seconds before. Not breaking the connection she starts to unbutton her blouse leaving her beautiful breasts covered only by the thin lace of her bra. I pull back to look at them, wanting to feel them, wanting to taste them. I pull her blouse gently, seductively, over her shoulders and I hold it with her hands still stuck within the sleeves against her back and pull her closer to me. I feather kisses over the swell of her breast, licking lightly until I find myself at her barely covered nipple. She throws her head back and releases a sigh mixed with a low moan. I feel myself growing harder just by hearing the sounds of her pleasure, her arousal.

I bite gently at her nipple through the lace, and she jolts at the sensation as it travels down to her sex, and I know the fire has officially been lit. I will never get enough of her. What she does to me is an experience in itself that I have never had and never want to end. Switching my grip to hold both her wrists with one hand behind her back, I reach between her legs and am greeted by a wet heat, like liquid fire. She's so ready and wanting. I move the scanty lace panties aside and push my finger inside her, moving my thumb to circle her nub. Her breath catches at the feeling of me inside her. Heightening her senses, I'm pushing all the right buttons. She rocks slightly urging me to continue, and I do. Making her cum is always my first priority because she's always ready for more, and in the end I'm always satisfied.

Sucking on greedy pointed nipples, pushing into her, rolling my thumb over her sensitive clit, I start to feel her tighten and know that my prize is about to be delivered. I pull out of her, but only for a second, quickly returning with two fingers that make her moan louder as they slip inside her. As I withdraw each stroke, I curve my fingertips to rake against the spot inside her that will undo her completely. She starts breathing heavier, no longer able to control the sounds that escape her. "Yes," "Oh, Derick," and even a cry that sounds as if it's lost midway between pain and pleasure. Then I feel it—the tightness and the stream of her juices as she pulses around my fingers. Still inside her I wiggle my fingers knowing that I can milk her for as long as I want too, and she will continue to respond. I want to keep her wanting more of me.

I finally reach the point where I can't wait another minute, and now I'm the greedy one. I need to feel her around me. I need our bodies to become one and for us to find release together. I release her hands and unfasten my pants to release my hard throbbing cock. I pull her back to me so that she is positioned over me, the head of my shaft teasing her opening. She coats it with the evidence of her climax from mere moments before. She's still wearing her bra and skirt, which makes her look like she has in so many of my fantasies. Naked, she is absolutely gorgeous, but there's something so much more erotic about her skirt hiked up to her thighs while she rides me. Like neither of us can wait even one more minute.

Grabbing her hips and pulling her down, I lose myself as I slide into her. It never feels the same but it's always familiar, and it's right. Her body was made for me, to fit mine exactly. I want to cum so badly already, but I don't want this to be over so quickly, not so soon. Gripping her hips, I set the pace to long, smooth strokes. These are the ones that allow me to go long and just enjoy the feeling of her around me. Eventually, I will become impatient for release but right now I want to savor what this beautiful woman does to me.

Her moans are low and her bottom lip between her teeth, an absolute vision of perfection. When I just can't last any longer, I reach down between us, it's time to change it up. I want to feel her cum around me as much as I want to fill her with my cum. I thumb her hard nub, finding the exact spot that will make her pant and scream. She controls her movements now, changing the pace to fast and shallow. She tightens around me and sends my body spinning into overdrive. My body is no longer in my control, and it's completely overcome with lust, love, and the need to claim her. Our bodies are slamming together as we both reach our climax, and we both share a gift and a reward. She cries out my name, mine. She has no idea how much more that intensifies all aspects of my feelings for her. She melts in exhaustion, her hands on my chest, her head in the hollow of my neck. I squeeze her closer to me and kiss the top of her head. No matter what, I will never let her go. She's mine.

Julia

I AWAKE THIS MORNING TO three white roses on Derick's otherwise empty pillow and the smell of coffee from the mug on the nightstand. He spoils me. I've found that I tend to pout a little when I wake up, and he's not there, but he always leaves a sweet nothing behind to assure that my pout quickly turns into a smile. Thoughts of him and anywhere he's been or touched always have that effect on me. He makes me feel silly, like a young girl in love.

Even though it's freezing outside, he loves his morning runs though he says he only has the strength to leave me alone in bed a couple of times a week. But the cold clears his mind and gets him to focus on the tasks of the day. Another one of those things that is _better than coffee_. Unlucky for me, it does anything but clear my mind, it turns me on something fierce. Just thinking about how sexy he looks when he gets back and is all sweaty and out of breath. Wow!

I roll over to breathe in the fragrance of the roses, so fresh and aromatic. I lay my head on his pillow loving that he had been there only a short while ago. I really have missed feeling loved. I thought I had taught myself that I didn't need it, that I wouldn't find it again, and that I was okay with it. But he's made me realize that without it, I wasn't happy. I do need it, and I do want it, and he helped me find it again.

I reach for my coffee and check the time on the clock. Seven eighteen, he'll be back any minute. Shall I wait for him in bed or head into the shower and persuade him to join me? The choice almost seems unfair, as both would be equally rewarding. But the idea of warm water and his body all slick wins out. I get up and run to the bathroom to turn on the shower, letting the heat steam up the room I get in, to hurry and wash my hair and do a quick shave before he comes in. I hear the click of the door opening and another of it closing. But I act like I don't hear it and keep to the chore at hand.

"Sure is hot in here."

"It is now that you're here."

"Oh, but you are wrong. You bring the heat to this relationship." I can see him shuffling through the fogged glass door and know that persuasion will not be needed this morning, as if it ever is. Then the door opens, and his glorious naked body is before me. Damn! Will I ever see him and not want him? "You are by far the hottest, sexiest—" he leans in to kiss my shoulder and runs his tongue up the side of my neck, "—woman I've ever known."

I have no necessary response so I do what any woman with a beautiful man in her shower would do. I ensure that we both will have an incredible start to our day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I sit at my desk prioritizing the work that needs to be done by this Wednesday. I've never taken a holiday off, not in the time I've been here anyway. I also haven't celebrated a holiday since I've been here, not one. Part of the reason I am where I am is because of this fact. Those with no life outside of work tend to dedicate more time to their work and eventually there is no time for anything but work. That was me, and it feels odd to be abandoning this familiar behavior.

I am still very nervous about all of this. I want to do this for Derick because it's important to him. I wish that alone was enough to take away all my uncertainty. Meeting his family, I know I will love them. If they are anything like him, it's not a question of if and when, but how much. I'm not so sure of how they will take me. The last person in a parental role that approved of me was my father. My luck since then has not been so good. I don't think I'm a bad person, and I never really understood. I can deal with the rejection on a personal level, but I can't make Derick choose, not like Alex did. Maybe that's part of the reason I don't have him now. I was selfish and let him chose me over his family and because of that I was never going to be allowed to keep him forever. I won't let it happen like that again.

"It's going to be fine, Jules." I instantly smile at my use of Derick's name for me. "Breathe in, breathe out. It's going to be okay."

About halfway through my pile of work there's a knock on my door. It's ajar, so it opens a little more at my visitor's knocking. Frank pushes it the rest of the way open and walks in, closing the door behind him. What's this about?

"Why come on in, Frank, have a seat, would you like some coffee?" He looks at me with wide eyes, and I can't help but to laugh out loud. His expression changes to one of curiosity and he walks around to sit in front of my desk.

"Yes, a cup of coffee would be great." I go to the table in the corner, pour his cup, and return to my chair reaching across to set the cup within his reach.

"So, what's up, Frank? And why are you looking at me like that?"

"Something's different about you. Don't get me wrong; it's a good different. You seem happy, happier than I've seen you in a long while. To what or whom do I owe credit for this pleasant change?"

I start laughing, "God, Frank, you act like I've been completely miserable and horrible to be around."

"Not at all. You've been content, but never really happy. I've known you a long time, Julia, I'm just happy for whatever has come along to change that."

"For years you tried to convince me that I needed to move on, to live again. I promised you that you would be the first to know when I made the decision to do that." He nods at me to go on. "I think I have. I've found someone, or he found me, I'm not sure, but I think I'm falling for him."

He raises his eyebrows, and a smile spreads across his face. "I've noticed fewer early mornings and even fewer late nights for you lately. I suspected and waited patiently for you to fill me in, I just can't wait any longer. Where did you meet this lucky someone?"

"It's Derick!" I just blurt it out, like having it inside for so long has been killing me.

"Uh-hm. I've actually suspected for a while now."

"You suspecting, doesn't surprise me but has it been that obvious? Do you think the rest of the office is talking?" Have I failed at keeping this romance a secret?

"I have worked with you a long time, Julia. I've seen you at your worst. I've seen you cope, and I've seen you go through the motions of surviving. But I've never seen you truly alive, not until recently. To me it's obvious because I care about you, as more than a colleague, you're a dear friend. I think you've managed to keep the others in the dark, but you have been easier to work with lately. Maybe Derick is making you a little soft?" The astonished look I give him sends him into a fit of laughter.

"I am not soft!" He laughs harder, and I join him. It's not our secret anymore. It feels good to share this with him because he's always worried about me, like a big brother. In a strange way, he's the only family I've had for almost six years.

"So, I would assume that an invitation to spend another Thanksgiving with me, that coincidentally has never been accepted, won't be necessary this year?"

"No, actually, Derick asked me to spend it with him and his family." I know he can hear it in my voice, my uneasiness.

"It'll be fine. It's been a long time since you've faced these things though they never ceased to exist for everyone else around you. I'm sure Derick knows that this will be hard for you and—"

"No, he doesn't. He doesn't know anything." I say, cutting him off.

"What! You haven't told him?"

"No! I'm not ready and don't want him to pity me, to see me as anything less than how he sees me now."

"You are playing with fire, Julia. I understand it's not the first topic of conversation but it's an important part of your life and who you are. This is not a secret you can keep and still expect to have a healthy relationship!"

"I know this! I'm. Not. Ready."

"Not ready to let go or not ready to move on? Because even though you'll never completely let go, you have to, to some extent, or you'll never really be able to move on."

"I know. Everything you are saying, I know."

"Do you love him, Julia?"

"I do." I know a smile shines in my eyes as it does every time I think of him.

"Then don't make this decision for him. If he loves you, your past won't change that. But if you continue to hold it back from him, your lack of trust in him just might."

Frank has always known what to say, how to make me understand. Several times I wished that he was the one my heart wanted because that would be so easy. But I treasure the relationship we have and realize that I need him to be exactly what he is, my friend. He's definitely given me something to think about. Losing my husband and my children all those years ago was not my choice or my fault. But to take a chance at losing Derick because I can't be honest with him will be all of the above. I punished myself for years the first time, without warrant. Can I ever forgive myself a second time? The answer is easy. No.

I stayed at my place last night and plan to stay there for the next couple of nights since I will be at Derick's through the long weekend. I need to take this time to gather my thoughts and my strength to come clean. Maybe a session with Dr. Sylva can help me organize my scattered thoughts. I pick up the phone to dial her office when another knock rattles my door. I hang up the phone and resolve to call next chance I get.

"Come in!"

Derick walks in, closes the door and sits in front of me. He just looks at me for a minute, very inquisitively. Finally, he breaks the silence. "Have you changed your mind yet?"

"About what exactly?" I laugh but only because I'm nervous. Where's this going?

"Meeting my family, Thanksgiving, and staying at your place tonight. Just to name a few." The first two were mentioned jokingly, the last a little more serious.

"No, no, and almost but no. I have a few things to get done before I'm swept off to Edmunds land for the weekend. Besides I've been there for a week, you need a break from me."

"I do not need a break from you and the fact that you have been there for a week makes it harder to have you gone." His statement is sincere. It is going to be hard for me too, being away from him. I've almost forgotten how I've made it all these years alone.

"You'll be just fine, I promise. Anyway, Ginger will be happy to have you to herself for a couple of days."

"I'll miss you there, that's all. But I'll be the man you think I am, and I'll survive the two nights without you. Then I'll spend Thanksgiving eve night showing you just how thankful I am to have you back." He started off with a pouty, pitiful look on his face, but it gives way to a mischievous, sexy smile I've become very fond of.

"I'll miss you too, I will. Two nights, that's all. I promise." He smiles, and it melts my heart. There's no doubt he really will miss me. "On a totally different topic and I hope you're okay with this. I told Frank about us."

"Really?" I can tell this pleases him.

"He's always invited me over for the holiday. I always decline but felt that telling him I was spending it with you was a good way to not only decline, yet again, but to also break the news to him about us."

"So, we are one step closer to being out." This makes him happy, and his smile shines in his eyes. "He's okay with it? It's not going to be a problem?"

I shake my head. "Because neither of us is subordinate to the other, it's frowned upon but not banned. Don't worry, _you_ won't have to find a new job." I start giggling because the look on his face is absolutely priceless. "Hey! As I do recall, you offered to find a new job if that's what it took to be with me. Your words, not mine."

With his hands in the air, as a sign of surrender, he says, "That I did, and for you I still would."

Derick

IT'S ONLY TUESDAY, AND I don't like waking up without her here in my bed with me any more than I did yesterday. One more night before I have her back where she belongs; it's entirely possible I may not survive. But having it to look forward to keeps me going. It was so bad I sent her roses last night. Six roses, to let her know I missed her. I feel like I've totally gone over the deep end with this woman. I just never imagined I could need someone so much, I feel like a part of me is missing when we're apart. At one point, I wanted my life with Ann. Wanted, not needed. I now know the difference. I wanted the dream life, the house, and I wanted kids. I thought if I wanted it badly enough I could make it happen. In the end, I got none of it, but I didn't _need_ any of it with her. I need Julia, and I need all these things _with_ her. Any home we have, any kids we have, any life we make together will fulfill any dream I've ever had. It's as simple as being with her. She leans on me for strength, but if she only knew how weak she makes me she'd realize she's my strength.

We haven't been together long, but it's been long enough for me to know that she is all I'll ever need. I want to marry her, have babies with her, love her and care for her for the rest of her life. The only problem is that I can't always tell if she wants the same things. She never talks about wanting a family or the future, hell I know next to nothing about her past. I never push for any of those answers because I'm afraid to push her away. Besides, we are now, and the past is just that.

We had lunch together today as we always do, an hour that passed way too fast. She was distant and quiet. When I asked her what was bothering her, she answered in true female fashion: "I'm fine." So like I always tend to do, I let her keep it in, afraid to push. She did tell me she had missed me, though.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Sleeping alone just doesn't feel right anymore. I missed you next to me." If she only knew what those words did to me.

"You can change that you know." Hope pulsed through my veins at the chance that she would change her mind.

"Tempting, but I made an appointment after work tonight. Besides your family comes in tonight, right? I'm sure you all have catching up to do. One more night won't kill either of us." It might not kill me, but it's torture all the same.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My family does come in tonight; in fact, they'll land in about an hour so I'll have a distraction for most of the evening. I can't wait to tell them about her and to announce that very soon I intend to ask her to be my wife. I spent ten years of my life with the wrong person, and I just can't stand the thought of spending any more time without the right one, especially now that I've found her. The thought of asking her doesn't even make me nervous, what does is her reaction. I know what I want, I know that I want her. I can't live without her. To ask a question like this without being sure of the answer is dangerous, but I have to.

Thankfully my family has made reservations at a hotel close by so tomorrow night will be all about the two of us, making up for lost days. I can easily bring relief to myself just thinking about her. The way her breasts respond to my mouth. How she's always so wet and greedy for me. How her body fits around me, how she squeezes my cock and screams my name when she cums. God! Just these thoughts of her bring on a raging hard-on. I unfasten and draw down my zipper and free myself. In no way does my hand feel as good as she does but tough times call for drastic measures. I start to pump myself keeping visions of her playing in my mind. My God, even when she's not here she has such a power over my body that I have never felt before.

I'm getting close to release when I hear the doorbell and Ginger starts barking. Damn it! What fucking timing! I shove my still semi-hard member back into my pants and fasten them back up. Running down the stairs I yell to acknowledge my intruders while stopping to quickly wash my hands. Still drying them off I open the door surprised to see my mom and dad.

"Derick, honey! Let us in, it's freezing out here."

"I wasn't expecting you guys for at least another hour."

"I know, we caught an earlier flight, we wanted to surprise you!" My mother's expression is so giddy, knowing she succeeded, if she only knew. She grabs both sides of my face and gives me one of those mom kisses and a hug that could strangle a small child. If I ever plan to get out of this death grip, I'll have to play along, so I hug her back just as hard.

My father, on the other hand, greets me with a firm handshake, a brief hug, and a pat on the back. Our family has always been affectionate towards each other, which I think contributes to how close we all are. No matter how old we are, a hug and a kiss from our mother is always welcome.

"Oh, honey, you haven't changed a bit." My mother grabs both my hands and stands back to look at me. "But if I do say so myself you look happier, the East Coast agrees with you."

"With the exception of missing you guys, not being so close to the life that left me in ruin agrees with me. I needed a fresh start, and Boston gave it to me."

"Julia?" My mother doesn't waste any time, and I know I'm wearing one of those _busted_ smiles right now. She looks around the house in search for anything indicating that Jules is here. "Is she here? When will we meet her? I can't wait!"

"You'll meet her tomorrow evening. She has an appointment tonight and wanted me to have time to catch up with you." The look of disappointment on my mother's face is evident. She wants to meet the woman that has changed my life because my happiness means everything to her. "I was going to cook but since you are here earlier than expected, I didn't make it to the market. I guess we are going out for dinner. What sounds good?"

"Anything! I'm starved and in need of a glass of wine."

"What hotel are you staying at?"

"Boston Park Plaza."

"Great! That's not far at all and has a very good restaurant. Let me feed Ginger and I'll be ready to go."

"Are you sure Julia can't join us? We can wait 'til she's available..." Her voice trails off suggestively.

"Tomorrow, Mom. Tonight you'll just have to settle for letting me tell you all about her and tomorrow you can fall in love with her for yourself." She gives me a smile of admiration as if she knows there is absolutely no doubt she will.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

As always, my appointments with Dr. Sylva are after normal business hours. So I pull up to the office, park, and take the stairs to her suite. As usual I let myself in. I can hear her talking, so I wait outside the door to give her privacy, but it's open and she sees me and waves me in. I sit on the couch and start a mental inventory of the things I need to get off my chest. Derick, the parents, the fact that I'm selfish and can't possibly let myself be what this wonderful man settles for because I can't give him the things he'll want. The last couple of nights alone haven't given me the strength to come clean. They've only given me the time to come up with all the reasons I can't stay.

She hangs up the phone and turns to me. "Julia. Sorry about that."

"For what? Here I am interrupting your evening again."

"You're hardly an interruption. Although I offer you professional advice, our little talks are like two old friends catching up. What has me intrigued is the fact that we've rarely talked for the last couple of years and here we are twice in two months. Tell me what's going on."

"Well for the last two years I maintained my uneventful and simple existence. And a month and a half ago that all changed and now my simple existence has turned into one that is just not so simple."

"The man, the one you were interested in? What happened with him?"

"We are seeing each other. My interest in him was returned, and he is completely amazing."

"This amazing man has accepted you and you are getting another chance at life and love. You were scared to want that but decided you did _want_ it. So what has you so conflicted about him?"

"He doesn't conflict me—I do!" I stand and start pacing as I rattle off every fear I've kept trapped inside my head all this time. "I haven't told him about Alex or the kids because I don't want him to see me as any more fragile than he already thinks I am. With him, I don't have to be strong, and I like that, I love that. I'm meeting his parents tomorrow, and I'm scared shitless that they will hate me as much as Alex's did and if that happens I'll lose him because I'll have to walk away. I don't want to because I'm selfish, but thinking back now I was selfish with Alex too, and that has to be why he was ripped from me. It took falling in love with Derick to realize that, and I won't do that again. I will give him up and return to my simple loveless existence before I will have someone else ripped from me. And really, giving him up is the best and only thing to do anyway. I can't give him what he deserves: I can't give him children. That's a roadblock I'm afraid I'll never get through. Especially if his parents do like me, children are bound to be an expectation. But I love him, and I don't know if I can ever go back to the life I had before him." When I finally stop and look at Dr. Sylva, I see that she's listening intently with a small smile on her face.

"In all these years, I've never heard you open up like that. Now let me switch from doctor mode to friend mode because what I'm about to say isn't going to sound professional at all. Now, I want to make sure I've got this straight. You love this man, but you haven't shared your most personal tragic experience with him? So you have no clue how he will react, if his reaction will even match what your imagination has concocted. You love him, but you won't give him a real chance, let alone give yourself a real chance at a future. You've already decided for both of you that this will end because of your fears?"

I don't need to answer her because we both know she was right. I won't even meet her eyes.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, "Well, Julia, I'm here to help you work through your feelings, maybe even help you to understand them. But you are the decision maker, and I must say that it seems to me, that you have already made your decision. Why even stick around to meet his family if your plan is to walk away anyway? As a friend, I think you are very close to fucking up one of the best things that has ever happened to you. You know it's not really ever about being given a second chance, it's about being willing to take it."

She's right, I'm not pretending not to know this and I've always respected her advice, but something inside me snaps at what she's just said.

"Well, thanks for joining the _Julia's fucking up the best thing she's ever had club_ because you're not the first to tell me that. I know I am, but I just can't see how this is going to work out!"

I walk out the door without another word. I don't know how to change the way I feel. Apparently, I'm not willing to take the chance I've been given. I have to let the one I love go.

Derick

I INSIST WE LEAVE JULES' car at her place for the weekend. As it is, anywhere we go we would be going together, and I assume street space will be hard to come by during the holiday. So I follow her home so she can gather what she needs for the weekend.

On the drive over all I can think about is the weekend before us. It's our first holiday together and she'll be meeting my family. A mass of thoughts and feelings are rushing through me. Happiness, possessiveness, and the need to put a stop to this feeling of emptiness every time I'm away from her. Which as far as I'm concerned is to stop being away from her. Forever.

Last night over dinner it didn't take much to convince my parents that what I feel for Julia is love and that I am, in fact, head over heels in love with her. My mother told me that she saw the same look in my eyes, when I so much as mentioned Julia, as my father has in his every time he looks at her. According to her, Edmunds men can't fake nor hide what they feel in their hearts. I told them of my intentions to ask Julia to be my wife, which my mother had already predicted because she brought me something very special just for the occasion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I want you to have this, Derick. It was Grandma Edmunds' ring. She gave it to me with specific instructions that it be given to you, and you would give it to your wife. I knew Ann was not the woman to cherish such a priceless symbol of the love that our family shares, so I kept it knowing that one day it would have a worthy recipient. I don't need to meet Julia to know she's the one. It's you, the way you talk about her, and the way she makes you feel. That tells me all I need to know."

I look at the ring, and I immediately understand what it means. I can already see it on her finger and know that's exactly where it belongs. I close the box and put it in my pocket knowing the next time I open that box will be when I ask Julia to be mine forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia, of course, parks in her spot, and I leave my car out in front on the street for an easy escape. Entering Julia's building, I wave at the desk and make my way to the elevator. Julia left her door cracked open for me to let myself in. I can hear her in her room and make my way down the hall. As soon as I see her I am completely unable to control the animal in me that hasn't had the pleasure of her in three nights. I walk over and take whatever she holds in her hands and toss it on the bed. I take her face in my hands and press my lips to hers, hard and fierce, full of pent-up need desperately seeking release.

I walk her backward 'til she's against the wall, and I have complete control. Releasing her face, I grab her hands and hold them above her head. Her breathing is heavy and aroused.

"Tell me you missed me." An order, I need to hear it. Now.

"I missed you."

"Tell me you missed this, us." I press myself against her so she can feel my hardness and know how much I needed her.

"I missed us."

I reach down with one hand to raise her skirt, sliding my hands between her legs to feel her heat, knowing she is ready. She definitely missed what I'm able to do to her.

"Keep your hands there when I let go, understand?" She nods.

I remove her panties, pulling them slowly down her legs, lightly raking her skin with my fingertips as I go. She steps out of them, hands still above her head.

"That's my girl." I can tell she's about to come undone, it won't take either of us long after fasting for three days.

I unfasten my pants and free my pulsing erection. God, what she does to me. I press myself against her and lift one of her legs to my hip, giving me the access I need. The second I'm inside her everything feels right again. This is where we belong. She's mine, and we're together now. I can never allow this again. I will never spend another day without her, I swear.

I pump in and out of her, kissing her hard and without reserve. Her pleasure is just as evident as mine. I would like nothing more than to stay here and make love to her, to reclaim her body over and over again, but my body has other ideas. Mark her, fill her, and remind her: She. Belongs. To. Me.

I feel her tighten, and her leg goes tight in my hand. I want to cum with her, together hitting the most euphoric place possible. She pulses around me, and I let go with quick, short movements. Slamming into her over and over until I'm empty, and she goes almost limp in my arms. Her arms finally fall over my head to rest around my neck and her head into the crook of it. I feel her kisses on my skin. She's thanking me without words. I let go of her leg and hug her as close as I can, finding it not nearly close enough. I kiss the top of her head and breathe in her scent. I am completely and utterly in love with this woman. She's mine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Julia

I'm in so much deeper than I wanted to think. The pain of being without him these last few nights is brought to light as I hold him and kiss him. I absolutely hate the fact that I know this can't last, that every moment is numbered, and the longer I'm with him will make it hurt that much more when I set him free. But I hold him anyway, not wanting to let go. I want this weekend to be great for him because I know how much spending this time with his family means to him, and he wants me there. What he wants is so simple, I have to do that much before I walk out of his life. So for the next four days I want to pretend that life is perfect again, take a hiatus from my reality that is inevitable.

Walking into his place, I'm greeted by Ms. Ginger, as I've taken to calling her. She appears to have missed me too, and it's comforting to feel so much love. I run my things upstairs, and before I even turn at the top of the stairs into Derick's room, I smell them. I walk over to see roses lying on the bed. They are laid out in the shape of a heart, and there's a note in the middle.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Welcome back to where you belong. D"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Altogether there are twenty-four. I want to cry, but I feel his arms tighten around me from behind. I was so caught up that I didn't even hear him approach. He says nothing but nuzzles his face in my neck and kisses it softly. I place my hands over his and squeeze gently, leaning my neck to the side to give him more access. He continues to kiss me but then lets out a low, frustrated growl.

"You don't really want to meet them all tonight do you?"

"What? What are you talking about? I thought—"

"I just got you back. I'm not sure I want to share you just yet. Even with them."

"You're being silly. You're not going to blow off your family for me. I won't let you. In this life, you get too little time to waste it." Starting to feel the sadness, the reality of my statement, I wiggle to turn in his arms until I'm facing him and put my arms around his neck and kiss him quickly on the lips. "We have all weekend and the nights are all ours."

In a whisper, he says the words that may possibly break down the walls around my heart. "Not one second of my life with you would I consider a waste." Then he returns my kiss but harder and with a passion I have missed over these days and can never mistake for anything but love. I am so stupid to have let myself fall in love, but allowing him to fall in love with me was reckless.

From downstairs, we hear Ginger start barking. Breaking our kiss, Derick takes my hands in his and smiles. "Are you ready to meet Mr. and Mrs. Edmunds?"

Julia

I LIE AWAKE, MY BODY held close to Derick's as he sleeps. My mind repeats every detail of the last few hours and for me it's like watching a preview of what our life could be like at every gathering. What real families do, how they act with each other, how much love you can feel in one room. The evening couldn't have gone any better. Derick's family was amazing, he's a true reflection of them. This fact shatters me when I think of what they will all think of me if I break his heart. I feel like it's no longer just about Derick and me, more hearts have been added now and more may be left hurt. I should go now and save us all, but once again I'm selfish, I want to feel like part of this amazing family while I can. I keep telling myself I'm doing this for him, but that's not all true. I have forgotten what a family felt like and I want to bask in that feeling just a little longer before it's gone again.

Liz and Allen are perfect. From the very moment I met them both they embraced me, making me feel like I'd known them for years. It took no time for Liz to grill me on my cooking abilities, quickly deciding what tasks for tomorrow's meal will be mine. I'm excited to share this with them. This will be an experience I've never had, sharing a kitchen with the girls.

I also got to meet Derick's sister Carrie and her husband Tim, along with Issac, their sweet little boy. Carrie is a couple of years younger than Derick, and you can tell he is very protective of his little sister. Issac, who is the cutest thing ever, is said to be in his terrible twos. It's funny to me that I see it a little differently now than I did when I had the twins going through the same phase. Looking back now it wasn't terrible at all, but that's because I have a very different perspective now. Issac took to me quickly and was my little buddy for most of the evening. It's so easy with Issac. He's not curious about my past, and he won't remember me after I've gone. I won't break his heart.

Derick's chest rises below me as he takes a deep breath, and his arm tightens around me as that very thought goes through my mind. Does he feel what I think? Can he sense my intentions? Have I made a huge mistake in thinking I can take this time, make these memories to hold on to, and then just let go? I know how we both feel about each other, it's obvious on both sides. I know I'm going hurt him, and at the same time I'll be hurting myself. But eventually he will go on to find the one that is truly right for him, that can give him everything he wants. God, the thought of that nearly takes my breath away, and I feel myself pressing closer to him. I, on the other hand, will continue to exist like I have done for the last six years, but I will never let another man in.

Four days. That's all we have, and I don't want to think about what is beyond right now. I focus on his breathing and force mine to sync with his. This makes me feel like I'm one with him, and that comforting thought is the last I will have tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At five o'clock the alarm sounds and I reach across Derick to turn it off. He, of course, sees this as a perfect opportunity to smack my ass causing me to jump. He laughs, and I push off him and back to my side of the bed.

"And what exactly is so funny about that?" I try to sound mad, but this morning's banter is uplifting.

"Sometimes humor is in the surprise factor. You thought I was sleeping, when really, I was waiting." He lifts his eyebrows as though sexiness will gain him pardon.

"I'll have to remember that next time. Now, to gain my forgiveness, you get to help me cook." I start to sit up off the bed but feel his hands grabbing my waist, holding me back. "Come on, funny boy, it's time to get up."

"I had other ideas for starting the Thanksgiving holiday in mind. I do have a lot to be thankful for this year. Isn't arousing the chef the first step of your recipe? If so, I'll be glad to help."

I turn and move close enough to kiss his chest as though I'm giving into his idea. "It's not, but I'll tell you what, if you're a good helper I'll gladly give in to you and your ideas. But right now, it's time to get up and get moving or you'll have no time for said ideas before everyone shows up." I land a quick kiss on his lips and bounce out of the bed before he can move to hold me there again. "Ha! Come on. Get up! I'll need your muscles for getting that bird in the oven."

I walk quickly and teasingly into the bathroom. I twist my hair up into a knot on top of my head, and throw on a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. My reflection in the mirror shows a smitten woman. I haven't seen her in years. She looks happy and not just with her career and her ability to make it through each day. She's truly happy, she's in love with a wonderful man, and there's no way she's going to walk away.

"I'm going to go down and start the coffee," Derick calls from the room.

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

I look back at my reflection and every thought I've had about giving him up has just been overridden by the _me_ I see in the mirror. It's a decision that's made just as quickly as its predecessor. He makes me happy, he's brought me back to life, and he obviously wants me. I'm not giving that up for the world. I was programmed to leave, but I can't. I love him, and I'll deal with all the things that need to be done and said. I'll cope with the fears I have, and I know I'll be able to because I'll have him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

God, I love this woman, she won't take my shit. Jules just has a way about her that I adore. She's soft and surrenders to me when we make love, but she's strong when there is work to be done. She is the perfect combination of dominant and submissive, in exactly the right places, at exactly the right times.

I want nothing more than to get whatever needs to be done in this kitchen out of the way so that I can take her back upstairs and show her how thankful I am to have her. I hear her coming down the stairs just as I am pouring her coffee.

"Mmmm, that smells wonderful. Thank you so much." She gives me a quick kiss and picks up her mug.

"Okay, boss, what's the plan?"

The tension that she hid well, but I noticed from last night is gone, and we work alongside each other just like when we're at the office but without the need for professionalism. It's a comfortable pairing, like we've been doing this for years. We play back and forth making a mess of each other. I've never felt so much like I was in the right place at the right time and with the right person.

I've never had so much fun cooking with someone, even while my mind is clouded with all the other things I want to do with her. But we manage and according to Jules, we are right on schedule. As promised, when our work is done she gives me the cue that it is my turn. She comes up to me and presses herself against me so that there's no space between us.

"Well co-chef, you've been very helpful. Earlier you had mentioned some ideas you'd had. Well, I didn't want to mention it before because I knew you'd be nothing but distracted. Arousing the chef wasn't the first step on my recipe but it would make a great finish."

The moment I've waited for is here. I press my lips to hers and lift her up into my arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist and her arms around my neck. It's true that nearly every moment of every day I'm waiting to make love to this woman, and this day is no different. So, without missing a beat, I make my way up the stairs. I definitely don't want our amazing recipes to go unfinished.

Julia

AS THE SMELLS START TO fill the house, I stop to think for just a moment what this day means. I've spent it alone for so long, feeling that I had absolutely nothing to be thankful for but this year is different. Not only do I now have someone that makes me so happy, but I'd like to think that today is the beginning of my new life. It's time to stop dwelling on the past, because it won't change, and start believing in my future. It's amazing really. Yesterday I thought I would be able to walk away, in an effort, to protect myself and to give Derick his chance to have it all. Maybe the thought of Derick going on without me flipped a switch. Maybe jealousy made me realize that selfish or not, I can't let go of him. He's _my_ second chance and maybe, I'm his. This means I have to be honest with him, so he knows who I really am and that what appears to be a strong-minded woman is really nothing more than an organized mess. One that's self-taught and well experienced.

It's around eleven when I hear the door and our fearless guard dog announcing that Derick's family is finally arriving. I volunteered to do all the early cooking so that Liz and Carrie could sleep in, but there is still much to do, and I am looking forward to us girls doing it together. I don't have girlfriends and given that I was never close with Alex's family, or mine, this is a big first for me.

"Good morning! Happy Thanksgiving!" Carrie, I've decided, is definitely a morning person, even with the time change. "Julia, someone has been asking for you all morning," she says in a sing-song voice. "I think he's having his first crush." She winks at Derick as if to say "You've got competition buddy."

Before I know it, Issac comes around the corner. "Ju! Ju!" He runs towards me smiling and hugs my leg, giggling.

I pick him up and kiss him all over his face. "How's my little buddy today? Are you going to help us cook today?" He answers with a nod then wiggles to get put down because his attention has been stolen by Ginger. Once on the ground he's on an unstoppable mission. "He's so adorable." He reminds me of Toby.

"Are you sure you don't have kids?" Carrie says this in a playful manner; it's an innocent question. I just smile. "He likes you more after one night than his daycare teacher after a year. You're really great with him."

"No. No, kids." I grab my apron and busy myself with tying it and smoothing it down. I have to change this subject and quick! I can't even think of going there today. "So where do we start? The turkey went in on time and looks pretty happy in there if I do say so myself. We have the potatoes peeled, bread toasted for stuffing, a salad made, and pies are in the fridge."

"Wow! You got all _that_ done this morning? Are you superwoman?" Carrie asks a little surprised.

"Well, she had a helper." Derick says as he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

" _You_ helped? Right! She's superwoman, she must be."

"Yes. I did help. Tell her Jules. Tell her how you enslaved me this morning."

"He was a gracious helper. I wouldn't have gotten it all done without him."

"See!" Derick says and proceeds to stick his tongue out at Carrie like a five-year-old. I can only imagine what these two were like as children.

She smacks his arm, "Not in front of Issac! He copies everything right now, Uncle Derick." Then she checks to make sure Issac isn't watching and sticks hers out at him. I start laughing. Never having had a close relationship with my brother as an adult, I never realized how much fun it could be to still behave like children together. These two have it down pat.

Liz walks into the room arms loaded with a couple of bags and sets them on the counter. "Derick, honey, your father and Tim have the game on. Go on and watch with them. We girls have work to do."

Derick releases me and turns me around for a quick kiss, then while hugging me he whispers, "Don't believe anything they say." I giggle because there's a fair chance I'll learn a thing or two about young Derick hanging out with his mom and sister. He gives his sister and mom a squinted eye and points to one and then the other. "Be kind, you two."

"Julia is perfectly safe with us. Now you just go!" His mother tells him, shooing him towards the living room.

"I'm not worried about her, she can hold her own. I meant be kind to _me_ while you're telling Jules here all my embarrassing stories."

"Go!" Liz shoos him out again. When he's out of sight, she digs into one of the bags she carried in earlier. "Julia, we women have our very own honored traditions when it comes to Edmunds' family holiday meals. One, the men stay out of our kitchen. Two, we drink while we cook!" She pulls out not one, but two bottles of wine and holds them up while sporting an eye-squinting smile.

I laugh, and Carrie holds her hand up for a high-five. "Our version of cooking wine!" Laughter erupts from all of us. Carrie hooks her phone up to the docking station on the wall, and music now fills the kitchen as well. Liz pulls down three glasses, opens the first bottle and pours. She then hands a glass to Carrie and me.

"Here's to creating a wonderful meal together, ladies, and spending quality time getting to know each other. Julia, welcome to our family!" She holds her glass up, and Carrie and I do the same, clinking them together.

Keeping my secrets is going to get a lot harder. Derick has been patient though he must know there's more to me than I've allowed him to see. Mothers, on the other hand, have a special talent and relentless drive when it comes to digging deeper and getting the whole story, especially when their child's heart is at stake. I silently pray, "Please go easy on me, Mrs. Edmunds." For me, this is where the wine may definitely help.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

It would appear that my mother, sister, and Jules are having a great time together. Granted they are probably all half tanked right now, but the smells and sounds coming from the kitchen are amazing. Every once in a while I strain to see if I can hear what they are saying but with the game on, all I get are fits of laughter every few minutes. Yup, they're tanked, but it sounds like it's going well.

I asked my mother not to pry, but she knows that Jules' silence about her past bothers me a little. Mom actually mentioned that she could tell that Julia was holding something back. Her intuition tells her that it's nothing more than something from her past that's painful and that one day she'll let me in. My mother will no doubt ask questions but she'll know when to stop. She's very good at reading people so I know she won't push too far. Not all of life's mysteries need to be unveiled today, there's plenty of time for that. I just want to enjoy this day with Jules and my family. The first, but definitely not the last we'll all spend together. I don't plan on spending another day without her, ever.

My mother finally emerges from the kitchen to call on my father to carve the turkey. My father, over the years, has turned this task into an art form. I've watched him at least thirty-five times knowing that one day that honor would be passed on to me. I had no idea today would be that day.

"I think since this is the first dinner in Derick's home that he should be the one to carve the turkey." He turns to me with a reassuring smile. "You are the man of this house, son, what do you say?"

"I would love to." I stand to make my way to the kitchen, and he claps me on the back. My parents have always treated me like an adult, but I've never felt more like a man to them as much as I do at this moment. Leaving Ann, moving here, and meeting Jules was all part of the bigger plan for me. I've never had more to be thankful for.

I sit at the head of the table and my father opposite me. My mother sits to his left and Jules to mine. Issac insisted on sitting next to Jules, who says it is her pleasure to help him with his dinner as Carrie and Tim settle in together on the other side. The spread before us is amazing, every dish perfect and made with love by the three most important women in my life. Just the significance of this meal makes it the single most cherished meal I'll ever have.

You would never know that Jules and I haven't been together for twenty years. You'd never guess that my parents and sister had only met her yesterday. This is the first time, since I was a child, that I can say that I truly love and know that I am loved by every person I'm with. I wanted to have felt like this years ago but never did. Like so many other expectations I'd had that just never worked out. It was all a blessing in disguise because I know this moment is the beginning of everything I've ever wanted.

Julia

EVERYONE LEFT EXHAUSTED AND FULL. I have to say, the day was amazing, a complete success. Of course, this is all coming from someone that just had her first family holiday gathering in six years. Besides what none of them know of me, it's like we've all done this a million times. His sister could easily be my own. His parents, are like surrogates for the one I've lost and the other I am so far estranged from. Issac, he's such a sweet little boy. He slept on my lap for nearly an hour while we sat having coffee in front of the fire listening to his family's stories. I've never felt like part of a family, other than the one I once had, any more than I did today.

I sit on the couch cuddled up to Derick, my own exhaustion taking over. The fireplace lit, I stare into the flames, as I usually do, finding peace in their random patterns.

"Thank you for today," I say as I continue to focus on the flames. I need him to know how much this means to me, but I don't trust myself not to cry.

"Thank you. You are an amazing woman, Jules. My family loves you. I think my nephew is out to steal you from me though."

I laugh. The mention of Issac makes me smile. "He's definitely a charmer. He must have got that from his uncle."

"His father might not be an Edmunds, but Issac's got Edmunds blood. I guess I'm lucky he's only two."

We're silent for a few minutes and the whole time I want to tell him everything, I'm just not sure I can. It's not about how he'll feel about me anymore. Now that I've decided I can't let him go, I'm afraid that my past will make him feel inadequate. Like he'll never be able to live up to what I had. I'm in so deep that I don't know if I can take him walking away from me. Completely selfish, given I had recently planned to do the same to him.

"Tell me something about you that I don't know." I'm stunned by his request. Sometimes I swear he can read my mind, how he'll ask about something I'm thinking. Julia, tell him now, or not.

"What do you want to know?" Please, I pray, keep this to favorites and my childhood. Please skip the last fifteen years.

"Whatever you want to tell. I just want to know more about you. Let's start easy. Tell me some of your favorite things. We'll do this together. What's your favorite color?"

"Red. You?"

"Green. Favorite sport?"

"Baseball."

"Me too! We should catch a game or two this coming season." I turn over to my back, my head still in his lap so I can see him.

"Very important question, who's your team? Fair warning, your answer could make or break us." I give him that eyebrow lifted look that says everything is on this answer. Not that I really care.

"Well, growing up in northern California I had a couple of choices, but I never fully committed to any one team. I just love the game but if you want me to choose one, I guess I'd go with the Giants."

"Thank God! If you had said the Yankees I'd be halfway home by now!" I roll my eyes but smile.

"Given your passion, I'm guessing you're a Red Sox fan."

"Growing up in New England, it's go Sox or go home, buddy, and don't you forget it. So here we are, east meets west."

"That we are," he says laughing. "Any brothers or sisters?"

"One brother. He's younger than I am. We don't talk." I know he wants to know all this and one day I'll have to tell him but I have to steer this back to _fun_ getting to know each other. "Favorite food?"

"Hey! You flipped it on me."

"No, you did. The name of this game is favorites."

"My bad, you're right. Hmmm, fried bar foods. Wings, fingers, mozzarella sticks, mushrooms, zucchini, I love them all. What's yours?"

"Chicken and mashed potatoes. I could eat it every day!" I know I have a huge grin on my face.

Derick changes a little, becoming softer as he looks into my eyes. "I could do this with you every night for the rest of my life, Jules. Learning everything about you, one question at a time. You've done something crazy to me, and you've made me feel things I always wanted to but never have." I sit up from the couch and crawl into his lap where he quickly places his arms around my waist and pulls me close. I look into his eyes needing that contact and place my hand softly on his cheek.

"I want you to know everything about me, I do. But there are some things I'm just not ready to tell. My past has been painful, but the feelings I have for you, I never thought I'd have again. So please, be patient with me." Never breaking the contact we have I see that he understands but I also see the one thing that's kept me from telling him anything at all, condolence. Wanting to change that, I kiss him soft and sweet feeling the heat between us. "Please make love to me."

He locks his eyes with mine seeing everything he needs to see right now. I can't say the words just yet, but he has to see that I feel them. He presses his lips to mine harder and with more passion. The house could come tumbling down right now, and neither of us would notice because we are so caught in this moment where no words are necessary.

I have my demons, and I need to deal with them so that I don't fuck this up. But when he's kissing me, he's all I can think about because I love him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

I love to watch her sleep. After the excitement of the day and the hours of lovemaking that lead to its end, there's no doubt she's exhausted. We've had sex more times than I can count, but tonight was different. She asked me to make love to her after she asked me to be patient with her about the details of her past. It's a step forward. It means she wants to tell me, but she also said it's painful. I don't want anything to cause her pain. I want to take it all away. I consider waking her now and confessing just how much she has changed my life and that I want her in it 'til the end. I want to ask her never to leave me, to marry me. I'm not sure I can wait. But she looks so peaceful, so I continue to watch her matching my breaths with hers until the rhythm we have together makes me sleep.

I awake early feeling completely rested and content with being cuddled up to my beauty who still sleeps soundly. I lie here a few minutes just thinking that the next time we wake up like this it may be different, after what I'm planning for today.

I scoot out of bed careful not to wake her and throw on my sweats and hoodie. My morning run is something I normally do, so she won't find my absence odd. Quietly down the stairs I whisper to Ginger to stay quiet and praise her with a treat and a good petting of her ears.

"I'll be back in a while, girl." She resumes the hard life of lying on her pillow next to the fireplace.

Outside the crisp morning air hits me with a blast of energy as it always does. I'm so revved up, and a run is exactly what I need, that, and a plan. I have a half an hour before the owner of the flower shop shows up. She won't be open, but I'm hoping that having seen me out on my morning runs and the wave and smile I always send her way will grant me a special courtesy.

I have no idea exactly how I'm actually going to do this, but I do know I've never wanted anything more. It doesn't matter that I still have so much to learn about her, that she has a painful past that I don't yet know about. I saw the look in her eyes last night. It conveyed everything I need to know. She loves me, and she trusts me and I'm ready to promise her that I will never let her feel that kind of pain again.

I'm running through the park when I see the bench where I saw her deep in thought looking out over the water. I watched her for a few minutes before I threw Ginger's ball in her direction. I wanted to talk to her, but she seemed lost in deep thought. That moment changed everything. It's when I saw the real her, the woman without a reputation and authority. I got to see the soft, shy woman that has gone unloved for too long. That's when I fell in love with her. This is where I will ask her to let me love her for the rest of our lives.

As I hoped, the flower shop owner, Laurette, lets me in early and is more than happy to aid in my plan for later that day. She tells me that, in all her years, she's never heard of anything so sweet and that if I don't get a _yes_ she's always looking for a handsome young man. I haven't been considered young for a few years now, but coming from a woman in her mid-sixties, I guess that shoe still fits.

As I'm leaving the shop, I send Jules a text.

D- Stopping for coffee. What would you like?

J- Whatever you're having. I'll just continue keeping the bed warm 'til you get back.

D- Excellent! See you in ten.

I wish I wasn't stopping now, knowing that she's still in bed, still naked, and obviously has no intentions of becoming otherwise before I get back. We have all day to spend together. My family is doing the sightseeing thing today. My parents want to take a drive up the coast, and my sister and her husband are taking Issac to the aquarium. We will meet them all for dinner, and I hope to have a special announcement to make.

I would think I'd be nervous about later today, but I'm not. I am one hundred and fifty percent sure that this is everything I want. Fate lead me to her. Ann really did me a favor. I may even consider adding her to mine and Julia's Christmas card list.

Julia

AFTER DERICK RETURNS WITH COFFEE, he crawls back into bed with me, and we don't get out of it again until noon. We make love, cuddling while we talk, learning more about each other; just enjoying this time together. Nothing we need to do. Nowhere we need to be. All responsibilities are thrown to the wind. I can't remember the last time I've been so completely content.

The few times we lie quietly, I let my mind wander to a place where I think I should feel guilty for feeling so much for this man. I have to remind myself that I have no reason to feel guilt. Alex has been gone six years now, and he would have wanted me to be happy, even if it had to be without him. I would've wanted that for him had our tables been turned. That realization pulls me from that dark place back to the world that Derick constantly fills with light.

We move from the bed to the tub where I settle between his legs. His fingertips caress my arms, and I relax so completely that I nearly drift off. I want to tell him I love him. I want to reassure him that one day I'll share with him every detail of my life, happiness and sadness. With all my honesty will come the reasons why he should run. When I tell him, I can't give him the things he deserves, like children. He's never mentioned it but seeing him with Issac, I know he would be a wonderful father. I won't keep that from him, and it would break me to hear him say that he didn't want it just to be with me. That would definitely take the top of my selfishness list.

"Jules. Did I lose you?" he asks softly in my ear.

I grab his hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it softly. "I'm here. You haven't lost me."

"Good. That would be very, very bad." He kisses my neck up to my ear and whispers, "I have a surprise for you."

Matching the low sound of his voice, I whisper back. "And what would that be?"

"Nope, not telling. I'm going to leave you to finish your bath. I'll meet you downstairs and then I'm taking you somewhere. We'll be walking so dress warm."

He gets out of the bath leaving me alone, my mind racing with ideas. Excitement fills me to my core. He wants to surprise me. I haven't been surprised so many times in my whole life as I've been with Derick.

Every day he amazes me with his heart and his patience. He hardly needs to surprise me anymore but on the same token, I enjoy every bit of it. About forty minutes later I meet him in the kitchen where he's packing a basket, which he closes just as I enter the room.

"What's in there?" I ask trying to look inside.

"You'll see."

"So, is that my surprise in there?" I point to the basket.

"Part of it." Then in a softer tone, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. Good thing I packed warm for this weekend." I know I must be blushing for the way his mouth turns up in a half smile. I'm still not used to being complimented almost constantly.

"Ready?" He grabs the basket and calls Ginger.

"But of course." I say in my best English accent.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We're making the turn towards the park. This used to be the place I would come talk to Alex. Now, I'm reminded of the day I sat there on my bench asking Alex for a sign that he wanted me to move on. Derick and Ginger appeared only moments later, and my life has changed so much since. This is a place that reminds me of all the good in my life, old and new.

I take the leash off of Ginger, and she's happy with the freedom. She starts running and won't stop at Derick's call. We start to chase her when she stops suddenly. I see now that she has stopped at my bench, which is covered and surrounded by rose petals.

I look to Derick, but he says nothing. He grabs my hand and leads me the rest of the way. I still can't believe what I'm seeing. So many emotions all at once but not one of them is fear. Surprise, definitely. He motions me to sit and sits next to me, setting the basket on the ground. I have no clue what is about to happen, but I have the feeling my life is about to be changed forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Derick

Laurette came through with every request I made. Even a way to get Ginger to run to the bench and wait for us. It was easy with a new yellow ball. The look on Jules' face has already made this worth the effort. I can imagine but can't wait to see how this all pans out. I'm nervous. Not about my question but about her answer. It's not intelligent to ask this particular question without one hundred percent certainty, but I don't care. I'll deal with the worst _if_ it happens. Right now I'm focused on getting this ring out of my pocket and onto her finger.

I grab her hand that is trembling and bring it to my lips, and I lock my eyes with hers. I still can't read every message her eyes relay, but I do see trust in those beautiful green spheres.

"Meeting you for the first time, I knew you would be a special part of my life. We had a moment, only one, but it was defining. It was here, though, this exact spot that I really saw you. I must confess that when I saw you sitting here I watched you for a few minutes before working up the nerve to talk to you. And then I took the coward's way, and I used Ginger here to break the ice. It seems a little creepy, but I'd do it again a hundred times to be sitting here telling you all this today."

Her eyes start to gloss over, but she never breaks contact with mine. I need her to hear all of this, to understand my feelings for her.

"I'm sitting here beside you. Neither lowered down on one knee nor standing above you because I want us always to be equal. From start to finish. I want it to be us. Not you, not me. Us. I don't care that I don't know everything about you. We have time for that, and I can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life."

The gloss in her eyes has spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. She must know what's coming, but she hasn't stopped me. This leaves me feeling more confident about what's to come.

I reach down into the basket and pull out a single rose.

"All these petals came from one hundred and seven roses. This one makes one hundred and eight. There is a meaning for the number of roses I've given you along the way. You may not have known, but it was a way for me to relay how I felt when I wasn't brave enough to say it. The first was a single rose, because for me, it was love at first sight. Three roses, I wanted so badly to tell you, I love you. Six, when I missed you and twenty-four, because while we were apart, I couldn't get you off my mind. With one hundred and eight roses, will you marry me, Jules?"

At my question, she sucks in a breath and her eyes fill again with fresh tears. "I can't..." she breaks down choking on her words and I feel my heart beating heavy in my chest. I think I can actually feel it beginning to break. I was wrong. "I can't give you the things you deserve, Derick. I can't let you waste any more of your life with me, only hoping for all the things you want and deserve."

"Like what? I don't _deserve_ anything, I probably don't deserve you, but that doesn't change the fact that I love you. Talk to me. What is it you think you can't give me? All I want is you."

"Children." For a split second, I process what she's said. She can't have children. That's big but not a deal breaker. Of course I wanted children but I'd rather not have them with her than to have them with anyone else.

"So it will just be you and me, us. Jules, that's all I need. I want a lot of things. Some I may one day have, some I won't. The only thing I can't live without is you."

"Will it still be okay a year from now, five years from now? You won't resent me for taking that away from you?"

"I could never resent you." I wipe tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, holding her head in my hands. Making sure her eyes stay with mine so she can see that I mean everything I say. "You've made me happier in the last two months than I have ever been in all my life. I love you. I'm in love with you. You're it for me, Jules. You're my forever."

She just keeps her eyes locked with mine. I'm sure she's trying to read mine like I try to read hers. "I love you too."

I crush my mouth to hers leaving her answer to my question hanging while I take in her words. She loves me. I taste the salt on her lips as I kiss her, and it makes me want to kiss away every last tear she's shed. I pull away, just far enough away that our lips aren't touching, but I can still feel her breath.

"Say it again."

"I love you so much, Derick." It's breathy but so honest. Then as if remembering my question from moments ago, realizing that it remains unanswered she makes a request. "Will you ask me again?"

This time with one hundred percent certainty I know the answer she's about to deliver. I hand her the rose and reach into the basket pulling out the box my mother gave me only three days ago. I open it to take out the heirloom and hold it between my fingers.

"Jules, will you marry me?"

She begins nodding her head before her answer leaves her lips. "Yes." She doesn't scream it. I almost think I don't hear it until I see the smile on her face. I kiss her and hold her face between my hands. Then I pull back to look at her, I have to hear it again to be sure.

"Yes?"

She nods her head, "Yes."

I slip the ring onto her finger, and its fit is perfect. Another sign that it was meant to be hers. "My mother gave me this the other night. I had told her about you before she left California. This was my grandmother's and was intended to be passed on to my wife. My mother didn't give it to me the first time. She gave it to me now because she said she knows it belongs to you."

She looks at the ring and again at me. "Derick, it's perfect. You're perfect. Are you sure? You're willing to spend the rest of our lives learning all there is to know about me? Learning all my secrets?"

"I am." I'm completely serious. "We have forever now."

"We may have forever, but I promise I won't make you wait that long."

All along, he's been telling me everything I needed to know. And although it wasn't with words, he was _telling me with roses._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Please continue Julia and Derick's story with my up and coming Book II.

Releasing December 2015.

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When it comes to giving thanks for the creation of this book, I think I could literally add ten more pages. Everyone in my life has contributed in some way. From just showing interest and encouragement, lending a name, or simply being supportive and proud that I'm taking the leap to do what I want and love. But of course, there are some specific and special thanks I'd like to give and people I'd like to acknowledge.

Trish, thank you for sharing yourself with me. Though the circumstances surrounding your loss were different, they were no less tragic. You shared your fears of starting over but also your excitement when you finally let it happen. I'm so proud of you. I am happy you call me a friend and even happier to be able to call you mine. You really helped me to understand what Julia was going through.

Connie, thank you for helping give names to Julia and Derick. I know I was picky about finding names that met my idea of who I wanted these characters to be. I have no doubts that as my stories continue I'll get worse (haha).

Kimmy, thank you for editing my manuscript, for free, and for loving what I wrote. I'm hoping but doubting that it ever gets any easier to wait on a review of one of my books. But when I finally received yours I know I must've had one of the biggest smiles ever. It not only meant so much to me that you liked it, but that I knew I could trust you to tell me the truth, not just what I hoped to hear. Hopefully, others will agree with you and I'll be able to pay you next time.

Carole, thank you as well for your editing services. It's funny because even though you are kind of, though not really my mother-in-law, I don't see you that way at all. You're more like an older sister which, I have to admit, made me a little embarrassed to have you read this material. In the end though, you were full of encouragement and praise. I am fortunate to have you in my world.

Julie, thank you for the thesaurus. It really helped when words escaped me, which especially in writing, is an occupational hazard.

My kids Lizzie and Shawn, thank you, Lizzie, for bringing my cover to life. You are going to be a very talented photographer one day. It also worked out well that you accepted payment in the form of Taco Bell. Shawnie, my little girl, thank you for understanding why mommy couldn't go swimming so much. I love you both so much.

My Mom, it makes me sad that you aren't here in the physical world to share this with me, but I know that you've been taking this journey with me, and when necessary, carrying me through. It was a couple of your short stories, that I found which first inspired me. It was then I realized that besides music, we had this in common, writing. I love you and miss you every day. If my choices were to never have had you, and, therefore, to experience no pain at your absence, or to cry at little every day because it means I have our memories, I choose the latter.

My husband, Bob, I spent many hours alone in my office focusing on making this dream a reality. You spent the same amounts of time making sure all was taken care of in my absence. I could never ask for a more supportive, more loving husband. With any luck, the sacrifices both of us have made will pave the way to spending more time together and enjoying our lives. You are amazing and I'm so glad we found each other. As you know, the path that brought us together is solely responsible for the types of stories I like to write. One day, maybe I'll write ours. I love you. You are my soul mate, always.

A huge thank you to Daniela Prima from Prima Editing & Proofreading for helping to make my work perfect. I'm so glad our paths crossed. <http://primaeditingproofreading.weebly.com/>

My SassyAssRed Alter Ego, thank you for being the one inside my head that makes me believe in myself. I may have the hands that type, but you are the unstoppable imagination inside me, and you make these stories come to life.

Mareta L. Miller is a Las Vegas native and still lives in Sin City with her husband, her two youngest children, three dogs, two cats, and a turtle named for her hometown. By day, she's an employee of the State of Nevada for eleven years running and by night an aspiring artist. Mareta has always found comfort in the arts. She started in the choir when she was in grade school and band in middle school playing the flute. Singing was always her real passion, but she also found love in painting, sewing, drawing, photography, and finally writing. It all began with poetry, letters, and a three-page short story in senior English.

As life goes, marriage, children, divorce, single parenting, another marriage, and more children placed all her ambitions on hold. Now in her late thirties and with two of the four kids out on their own, she feels she has time to pursue her dreams. She feels that writing is what she's meant to do and with the support of her family and friends she says that no matter what happens, as long as she writes, she can't go wrong.

Please visit me on facebook @ <https://www.facebook.com/maretalmiller> and

at <https://www.maretalmiller.com/> If you enjoyed this book, please write a review @ Amazon.com, Goodreads.com, and Barnesandnoble.com.

Your opinion could help another decide to read my work.

Thank you for taking your time to read my work.

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