Their Secret Pact - 1

C.J. Parsons was surprised to hear her doorbell so late at night. She glanced at the clock: 10:47 PM. Who could it be? She was sitting in her bed reading a book - a rare treat for her to be able to stay up and do such. Most nights she was so exhausted from a long day of investigating crime and perusing legal documents that reading – even one of her favorite authors – was a chore.

The doorbell rang again, this time accompanied by knocking and a man's voice.

"C.J.?"

She knew that voice. She climbed out of bed, grabbed her robe and headed to the door. Once there she peeked through the side window and saw her best friend/business partner.

"Houston?" she questioned as she opened the door.

He was wearing a tux with the tie missing. Oh most nights he was wearing such an outfit, he was the handsomest man in the world. But not tonight. Tonight, for some reason, the tux did nothing for him. He looked that bad. But, why was he here so late at night wearing formalwear? She immediately thought the worst.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her heartbeat racing, staring at him with one eyebrow raised, anticipating his explanation. He seemed upset.

"I … uh… I …" he stammered, staring at the floor, trying to find the words. It was difficult – he wasn't good with communicating his feelings. To make things even more challenging, C.J. was looking at him with an unintentional sultry expression. She was always irresistible when she trained her eyes on him that way.

"Houston?" she asked again.

He mustered up the strength and looked in her eyes.

"I need you."

Before she could decipher his terse statement he pushed into her house, put his hands on her face and planted one on her. The motion shocked her, causing her to initially resist. Then, his kiss became more tender, more passionate and he had wrapped his arms around her so tightly, she found she couldn't pull away if she tried. The feeling of closeness was so comforting and loving she put aside the questions as to why he was here and just enjoyed the moment.

His cologne was inviting and the moment was a dream come true, but … wait a minute, was that booze she tasted? That would explain a few things.

She pressed her hands on his chest and said, "You've been drinking, haven't you?"

"Just a glass or two. That's when I realized booze wouldn't do the job tonight."

Wouldn't do the job? Hmm … tux … booze… odd behavior? She added the three up and came to one conclusion. "You and Elizabeth broke up tonight, didn't you?"

He looked at her a bit startled she figured it out.

"How'd you…?"

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest like a disappointed parent.

"And now you're trying to use me cope with it. Houston, we made a deal, a pact, remember?"

"And I've tried in earnest to find someone to love since we made that pact, in case you haven't noticed my track of departed women over the years…"

"Oh, I've noticed."

"And might I add you haven't faired much better."

Oh, he had to remind her!

"Thanks a lot."

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

"It sure did!"

"Well, I'm just saying that maybe there's a reason."

She sighed again.

"A reason? Houston, you just broke up with the love of your life a few hours ago, remember?"

"Your point?"

"It's a knee-jerk reaction."

"I could see how it might seem that way…."

"And the promise you made to me once upon a time…"

"I meant every word… and I'd say I've done an excellent job sticking to that promise. But 14 years is a long time."

"So you're recanting?"

"I'm not recanting, Counselor. I just want to spend the night with you. That's all. Just one night."

He was talking in circles. In one breath it seemed he wanted to pursue a long-term relationship with her, in the next he seemed he just wanted a romp in the sack.

He went to kiss her again but she put a hand up.

"So, you're here for a booty call. Is that it?"

Shocked and offended, he looked in her eyes and shook his head adamantly.

"No! It's not like that. It could never be like that with you."

"Then what is it?"

"Do I really need a reason? I want to be with you. I thought you'd be thrilled. I caved first."

"Caved?"

"Uh huh."

"I didn't realize we were having some kind of contest."

"It's not a contest, dammit! I just want to be with you, okay?"

She grimaced from the loudness of his voice. He saw her facial expression and realized he wasn't winning any points by shouting – not to mention he wasn't creating a very romantic mood. He was going to have to work a little harder, perhaps go to a very uncomfortable area if he was to convince her.

"I just need to ... I need to ... to be with … with the one woman ... in my life … the only woman in my life … who's never broken my heart."

So that was it. That statement caught C.J.'s attention for sure. He wasn't being charming as much as he was being honest – and she knew it took him a lot to admit such. But was it the booze talking or did he actually experience some sort of epiphany in record time? His date with Elizabeth probably only ended a few hours ago. Did he experience a speedway version of the ghost of Christmas past? Did aliens come down from planet Pluto and mess with his brain?

If she didn't care about tomorrow or what sleeping with him would do to their professional relationship, she would jump at the chance to experience a night of no-commitment sex. She's heard the rumors circulating about his ahem, mastery techniques in the bedroom. She'd love to find out first hand if they were true. But she knew all too well his track record with women. One wonderful night with Matt could lead to, well nothing, or worse - a lifetime of regrets.

One of the reasons their business partnership worked so well was because Matt relied on her unwavering level-headedness. He trusted her completely to tell him if he was crossing the line. He'd respect her even more if they woke up tomorrow having not had the kind of night he was requesting.

But maybe she should at least reciprocate his honesty and make him feel better. After all, she was his best friend.

"You know, I want you too, but …"

His eyes flew open into an optimistic largeness, displaying a noticeable light in his eyes.

"But …?" he asked, his eyes dancing back and forth, greatly anticipating the rest of her thoughts.

"We should talk first," she said, deflating his optimism.

"Talk?"

"Yes. Talk."

"No. I know what I need. Just trust me."

"I do trust you. It's just that …"

"What?"

"Timing," she said flatly.

"Timing?"

She nodded.

"I know you, probably better than I know myself. If we jump into a relationship so soon after you've ended another one, well it might not last. And I couldn't stand it if that happened to us."

She had him there … especially with the way she said it with some puddles of moisture appearing in her eyes. The last thing he'd ever want to do is break her heart.

He relaxed his stance and rubbed his thumb along his brow.

"No, I would never want that to happen either. But that's not what I'm saying, C.J. I just want your company for one night. Just one night," he pleaded, his dark brown eyes staring directly into hers. "I feel like hell. I know I'll feel a whole lot better if I sleep with my best friend."

Yes, they were best friends. They were even each other's legal next of kin. If ever there was an emergency, she was the first one he'd call. The same was true for her. So technically, C.J. Parsons and Matt Houston were each other's number one. No, she hadn't a piece of jewelry or a marriage license to show for it, but everyone who knew them knew they were soul mates in every other sense of the word. Best friends who had known each other since kindergarten and had been through absolutely everything two people could go through together in life … well except marriage and children.

"But Houston, you're drunk."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I can tell when you've had one too many and you are drunk!"

She marched over to the sofa and flopped down, displaying her obvious frustration with the scene. Sure, she would love to display her pent-up emotions for this man she'd come to love over the years, but she was smart – maybe too smart. Perhaps that was why she was still single. Ever since she could remember she could tell from date one if a man had potential to break her heart or not.

Or maybe it wasn't intelligence.

Maybe she pushed men away because she never dealt with those feelings of losing a father at a young age. Her keen sense of survival was strong. So was Matt's. He never even knew his mother. Maybe that was why he had such a bad record with women. Perhaps some deep, untouched issues stemming from both of their childhoods were keeping them from true happiness.

But here he was and she couldn't just send him back out on the road intoxicated. Bad enough he drove to her home in that state in the first place. What on earth was she to do with him?

He followed her to the sofa and sat down next to her. She avoided looking at him.

"C.J. …" he coaxed.

But she wouldn't budge.

He put his hand on her back.

"C.J. …"

"What?" she answered, staring at the floor with her hands pressed to her forehead.

He went to a kneeling position on the floor, trying to meet her eyes. She turned away. He pursued, and they quickly became involved in a cat and mouse game. He grabbed her by the waist and she wriggled out of his grip as she crawled across the sofa cushions. She tried to get away from him – and she did manage to get away from him – sort of … to the other end of the sofa. He caught her again and climbed on top of her, pinning her beneath him.

"Let me get this straight: you want to sleep with me, but you won't sleep with me."

She thought about it a moment and nodded.

"Because you think I'm drunk …."

"I know you're drunk."

He sighed.

"I'm not drunk."

"And ... you just broke up with Elizabeth and this is no way to deal with it."

He disagreed. He thought it was a fabulous way to deal with it – but he'd keep that to himself for now. Here beneath him was a very beautiful sexy woman who wanted him probably as much as he wanted her right now. But she was saying NO loud and clear. If he was that kind of guy, he would have his way with her anyway and rationalize it as a night where he let his passions take control. But he wasn't that kind of guy. He respected C.J. immensely.

So, what on earth was he to do with her?

While he was trying to figure out that million-dollar question, she took advantage of his moment in the think tank, climbed off the sofa and left the room. When she returned a few seconds later, she had a pillow and a blanket for him.

"You can stay the night. I don't want you driving 'til you're sober. This sofa's very comfortable …"

"I know…"

"Sleep tight," she said, tossing the objects at him.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite?' he asked lightly, with disappointment in his eyes.

She granted him a smile just as spotted his car keys and grabbed them from the end table. Then she turned on her heel and walked into her bedroom.