Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie Bone, no matter how long I've been writing for it.
So, not only is it Valentine's Day, but I've also horribly neglected you, my dear readers. I apologize. I've been in the midst of a rather dramatic life change, so that's taken priority these past few months. However, the hardest part is behind me and I'm looking at six months or so of virtually carefree, college-less time as I take a semester off from school, so that means very good things for my writing.
In honor of this, and in keeping with the spirit of the holiday, here is my gift to you! Not only is it a seasonal blurb, but I'm using it as a general announcement of my return to more Charlie Bone fic. As always, read, enjoy, and review!
Valentine's began innocently enough, Paton awaking and meeting his wife with a kiss on the lips, a smile, and a beautiful bouquet of roses seemingly drawn from thin air; Julia replied with a sleepy smile and kiss of her own, a gourmet assortment of chocolate, and, once they finally found their way out of bed, an enormous breakfast that they both enjoyed.
Paton sighed, satisfied and replete, setting his fork down and looking rather sadly at the empty plate in front of him; the slightest smear of syrup on the ceramic was the only remnant of the meal he had just consumed. "That was delicious, love," he declared, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. Across the table, Julia smiled a brilliant white smile, the remnants of her own repast spread before her on the table.
"Thank you, Paton." She accepted the complement with a modesty that only she could master and rose from the table, reaching for the nearest dishes.
Jumping from his chair and nearly upending his glass of orange juice, Paton was beside her in an instant, catching her wrist gently in his hand and drawing her away from the table. "Nuh-uh," he chided, waving the index finger of his free hand in front of her face. "That's my job today."
Huffing in amusement, Julia stood back and watched her husband bustle around their kitchen with an easy familiarity. Though this was their first Valentine's Day as husband and wife, they had already explored the stereotypical celebratory routes in previous years-rose petals, candlelit dinners, and the like-so this year's plans were rather up in the air. Neither party knew if the other had anything in mind for the other, and the sense of anticipation and uncertainty heightened the enjoyment of teh stereotypically frivolous day.
Julia, for her part, was already wearing her own contribution, a lacy red number that was admittedly as much a gift to herself as it was to Paton. She pursed her lips, watching the fluid movements of his body as he slid dishes into the washer and returned various condiments to the pantry."Do you have any plans for the day?" she asked him, catching his eye as he turned and closed the pantry door behind him. "Paton?" she prompted, frowning when no answer was immediately forthcoming and he remained standing still and staring.
"Hmm?" He shook his head, jolting out of whatever reverie had gripped him. "Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized, blinking, a slow grin creeping across his face. "There must be something wrong my eyes-I can't take them off of you."
Giggling, Julia shook her head. "If you were any cheesier, Paton, you'd have holes," she teased, moving over to peck him on the cheek and steal the remaining plate from between his hands, depositing it neatly in the sink.
His hands shot out and pulled her snugly against him, and he smirked as his eyes met hers once more.
Julia flushed and felt her breath hitch in her chest as he took her lower lip between his teeth, worrying it gently then brushing his his lips lightly over her own. It was ridiculous, really: she'd known the man for over three years and he could still reduce her to a state of incoherency with the merest of touches.
"Are you tired?" he asked softly, nose tickling her neck as he leaned in and planted a series of open-mouthed kisses along her jawline.
"What?" Julia mumbled, confused but not caring in the least as he continued his delicious little caresses.
"You've been running through my mind all night long," he confessed, drawing back and meeting her dazed stare with a grin, a mischievous sparkle gleaming in his sable eyes.
Julia's mind finally caught up with her ears and she groaned loudly, rolling her eyes and shoving half-heartedly at his shoulder. "Really, Paton?" she asked. "Are we really going to go there today of all days?"
He took a step forward, she taking an instictive step back, and pressed her back against the counter. "I was thinking," he said lowly, bringing his mouth scant centimeters from her own, "Now that I'm here we should work on that little garden you have growing out behind the building."
"What?" Julia was lost. First he was spouting pick-up lines, then he was seconds away from her not letting him leave the house for a good while longer, and now gardening-the man was impossible to follow.
Paton nodded sagely. "You have your roses and tulips and daffodils, and I was thinking that I could bring my tulips and your tulips together."
Julia barely had time to gape at him before he closed the distance between them and met her mouth in a passionate kiss, drawing his tongue across her lips, silently asking permission to explore. Her mouth parted, and his tongue swept in, stroking along her cheeks and tongue and seeking out all of the places that made her pulse race and blood surge.
His hands sought hers out, clasping her wrists and pressing them gently to the counter behind her, the granite edge digging in to her arms and back. Pressed against her as he was, he nearly lost himself and forgot the game he played, her proximity and desire and the way she fit so perfectly against him all but driving his playful plan from his mind. Remembering himself, Paton drew back slightly and rested his forehead against hers, panting.
"Was that an earthquake," Julia asked, brushing a light kiss across his cheekbone, "or did you just rock my world?" She laughed at the dumbstruck expression that stole across his face, the gleeful sound bubbling up and overflowing from within her, filling the room with its joyful peal. "Two can play at this game, love," she reminded him, freeing her hands from his now-slack grip and tweaking his nose. With a brilliant smile, she turned out of his arms and set about finishing the kitchen clean up. "Now, shoo," she commanded, looking up at him from where she was kneeling to put away some pans. "I know you have at least some research to do today at the library, and I have to uphold appearances and at least open the shop today."
Paton looked at her with a combination of awe, love, and amusement dancing in his eyes. "Very well," he acquiesced the challenge evident in his voice. "I shall see you later, my dear."
He turned and departed the room, and Julia heard him climb the stairs to their room, presumably to get ready for the day. She shook her head. "What am I going to do with that man?" she wondered, grinning to herself. She had to confess, though, that it would make for an interesting day.
An hour and a half later found Julia on a step ladder in the main room of the bookshop, a few boxes worth of a new shipment of merchandise piled on her sales desk. As she had expected, very few people were out seeking rare books that day, so she was taking advantage of the quiet to finally get some new orders properly shelved. Immersed as she was in her work, she failed to take note of the light tinkle of the bell at the door, and only realized someone was there when Paton touched her lightly on the shoulder.
"Paton!" She jumped and the ladder wobbled, her arms shooting out to grasp the shelf and stabilize herself. "Don't do that," she chided, looking down her nose at her black-clad husband.
He met her glare with a look that was equal parts contrition and impishness. "I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized.
"You'd better be," Julia sniffed. "I nearly got a nasty bruise falling for you."
His reaction to the subtle line was more dramatic than she had anticipated. Instead of raising an eyebrow or grinning at her, Paton caught her about the waist and swung her down into his arms. "If I could rearrange the alphabet," he murmured, eyes dancing, "I'd put 'U' and 'I' together." He paused in consideration, glancing down at his armful of Julia. "Then again, I suppose we already are."
Julia was the one to surprise then, hands reaching up to lever herself closer to him, kissing her way down his neck, seeking out his racing pulse point. Her lips ghosted over the pale skin, offering too much and not enough touch all at once.
Paton groaned at the sensuous touch, his arms tightening around her.
Julia smiled against the hollow of his throat and then bit down lightly, worrying the skin between her teeth. "I was wondering if you had an extra heart," she murmured, hands snaking up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I seem to have lost mine." Her tongue flicked out to brush across the mark she had made, soothing it with her soft touch.
He shuddered at the touch, and Julia could feel him tremble as he fought to restrain himself. She snickered, always proud of how she could reduce such an articulate man to such a state in a matter of minutes.
Of course, she never lost sight of the fact that he could easily do the same for her.
It took Paton the briefest of moments to press her back against the bookshelf she had been working on, allowing her feet to rest on the ground so he could bury his hands in her hair, keeping her in place with his body alone. Now it was his turn to lavish her neck with attention, nipping lightly at the flawless skin and then laving it with his tongue. "If you were words on a page," he said hoarsely, moving higher and higher up her neck until he was just behind her ear, "you would be fine print."
That startled a laugh out of her despite the heat of the moment. The giggle soon turned to a breathy gasp, though, as Paton pressed more firmly against her and finally kissed her properly, dragging his mouth against hers in a heady moment of contact, exploring her mouth and reveling in her touch, her taste, her everything.
"I love you," he gasped, hands ghosting up and down her sides, slipping beneath her pressed blouse to caress the flat of her stomach, the coolness of his hands a sharp contrast to the heat that seared her body.
"That's all the pick-up line you ever needed," she whispered, gently biting his lip. She felt him smile against her mouth.
"Oh, I know," he murmured, eyes lighting up as his questing fingers brushed the lacy edge of her lingerie, "but it's so much more amusing this way." He leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye, caressing her through the silk until Julia thought she might melt. "That is a beautiful shirt, my dear," he rumbled, voice low and eyes dark. "May I talk you out of it?"
Grasping his head between her hands, Julia pressed her lips firmly against his.
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."