Ever-Loving Adelaide
Jean walked through town to the Servicemen's Pub, cursing the heat with every step. The sun always seemed to be bright in the beach town of Adelaide, and Jean wasn't quite used to it yet. But she focused on the heat of the sun to distract from her nervous anxiety at going to see Lucien. She still couldn't believe what she had done. He'd professed his love for her and instead of just reveling in that glorious news, she'd kissed him. It had been quick and wholly unromantic, and as much as she'd enjoyed it at the time, she knew it was a mistake. Oh, what he must think of her for that! Any respectable man would surely change his mind about a woman so brazen. But, Jean reminded herself with a small smirk, Lucien Blake rarely shared the typical opinions of a respectable man.
"Ah, Jean!"
She heard her name called as soon as she entered the pub. Lucien was there waiting for her. "Hello, Lucien," she greeted. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she wished it wouldn't do that.
He stood up from his table to greet her, taking her hands in his and giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek. When he led her to a seat at his table, he noticed that she was blushing. "I wasn't sure what time you'd be coming by, so I've been waiting since breakfast."
"Oh dear, I should have called ahead and left a message for you. You've wasted your whole day!"
"Nonsense. I'm here to see you. I'll wait a week if I have to." Lucien could tell she was nervous but he couldn't seem to help himself from saying such things to her. After their conversation the day before, he assumed she was amenable. Especially after she had kissed him. He longed to kiss her again. Properly, this time. But now was neither the time nor place, unfortunately.
Jean didn't know what to say. It was strange, not knowing what to say to him. They'd grown very close in the past months, living in that house and serving his meals and acting as a sounding board for his theories. It had been a comfortable, happy, and interesting life. She smiled, thinking of all the strange and wonderful things she'd experienced in her time with Lucien.
"I said my piece yesterday, and you'd said you wanted to discuss things further," he prompted.
"You know, I was just thinking about…life, I suppose. I was always reasonably happy in your home in Ballarat. Moving in with your father was such a God-send after Christopher passed and my boys were grown. Your father gave me a new chance to learn things and to be useful and to make a living. I was quite content with it. But when he died and you came to take his place, everything changed."
"I wasn't very kind to you in those early days," he interrupted apologetically.
"Oh no, I don't mean that. Though you're right, you weren't very nice. You got better, though. And we fell into a nice sort of rhythm. I always enjoyed helping you with your cases and keeping an eye on you as much as I could. Somehow, I'd come to care for the rude, gruff doctor taking my Dr. Blake's place," she said with a small smile.
"I don't know what I'd have done without you."
Jean continued, "The problem was, I'd begun to care far too much. You told me yesterday that you didn't know how or when you fell in love with me? Well, I knew every moment, as much as I resisted, that my affection for you was growing beyond what was appropriate or at all reasonable. I knew that living with you would continue to be more of the same. That we would always be 'almost.' Housekeeper and employer but almost more. Friends but almost more. So when Christopher asked me to move here, all I could think of was how much I'd miss Mattie and Charlie and my friends and all of Ballarat, but especially you. The thing that made me decide was the 'almost.' If I stayed, we'd always be 'almost.' If I left, I'd be heartbroken for a time but at least I could be free."
"I see I've ruined things again."
Jean reached over and took his hand, noticing and enjoying its rough texture. "You haven't ruined it, Lucien. Quite the opposite. But the problem is, I don't know what to do now. Christopher and Ruby and Amelia need me. Now that I'm here, I can see that quite clearly."
"But we've moved beyond 'almost,'" Lucien said, completing her thought.
"Yes, exactly."
"Jean, I can't ask you to abandon your family. In fact, I won't have you do that. But I will have to return to Ballarat eventually," he told her sadly.
She released his hand and cast her gaze downward. "I know. But perhaps, until you have to leave, we can pretend. Christopher is the only person in this whole city who knows us both," Jean pointed out, looking up at him expectantly.
"Ah, yes. Here in Adelaide, there are no prying eyes, constantly wondering about the propriety of the peculiar doctor and his live-in housekeeper, the one he relies on just a little too much." Lucien smiled at the thought. "I quite like that idea. Say, how much time have you got right now?"
"A while, I think. I told Ruby I'd be gone today. Amelia slept through the night for the first time, so everyone got to rest up a bit. I think they'd be alright without me for a few hours. What did you have in mind?" she asked eagerly.
"We are in Adelaide, so we should go to the beach and have a swim."
"Lucien!" she hissed, not wanting to draw attention from the half-dozen other pub patrons.
"What? As you said, no one here knows us. Who could possibly know that we're being deliciously improper?"
Jean was shocked but not appalled. But she wasn't ready to give in to him just yet. "Regardless of what anyone else might know, we would know about our own impropriety. I can't believe you'd think I'd agree to that!"
Lucien had expected this response. He smirked and leaned in close to her. "If the kitchen door could talk…"
She blushed bright red at the memory of kissing him in the kitchen before pushing him out the door. He was right. She'd done that. And just as she'd predicted, he hadn't been put off of her for it; he'd been enticed by it. She tried a different approach. "Even if we did want to, I haven't got a bathing suit."
"Neither have I. I'll buy us some." But Lucien could see she was still reticent. "We don't have to if you really don't want to. It was just an idea. I just figured that after all we've been through over the past months that we'd earned a bit of unsupervised fun."
That decided it for Jean. "I quite agree. There's a shop down the road that sells beach things. We should go see if they have anything suitable."
Lucien's whole face spread into an excited grin. "Wonderful!" he stood up and offered his arm to her. "Shall we?"
They walked arm in arm down the way to the shop Jean had spoken of. Inside, they found everything they could possibly need for a day at the beach. Towels, sunhats, umbrellas, beach chairs, and, of course, swimsuits. Jean went around and picked up the more practical items first. Lucien went to the swimsuits.
"Jean, how about this?" he asked, holding up a green floral bikini for her.
"I beg your pardon!"
He chuckled. "You sure? I think you'd look quite fetching."
She rolled her eyes. "Please keep in mind how old I am and the fact that I've had two children."
"Am I to believe that you want a one-piece?"
"Indeed."
Lucien returned to the racks to find something she'd deem more suitable. One in particular caught his eye. "Is this one better?"
Jean looked at what he was holding and found that her argument was caught in her throat. "Actually, that is rather nice."
He smiled, hoping she'd like it enough to wear it. "Why don't you try it on while I find something for myself? If you like it, wear it out of the store. I'll pay for everything when you're ready."
"Thank you, Lucien," she replied politely, taking the swimsuit back to the fitting room.
Lucien then found a rather basic set of navy trunks for himself and went to quickly change. He kept his shirt on, but changed his shoes for a pair of beach sandals. His wingtips, socks, and the rest of his suit all went into a large beach bag he also bought.
A minute later, Jean emerged wearing a not-quite-sheer coverup, a pair of sandals, and a floppy sunhat. She looked the picture of a beach dweller.
Lucien paid for all of their gear, and they wandered down to the beach. They staked a claim on a small patch of pale white sand. "And now, to the water," he announced.
Jean watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. She stared at his bare torso.
He was distinctly uncomfortable under her gaze. "Yes, well, your turn," he prompted.
She remembered she'd be seen in the swimsuit she was wearing and was suddenly very nervous. But she also didn't want to disappoint him. She'd agreed to a swim in the ocean, and that's what they were going to do. Besides, once they were in the water, she could stare at him all she wanted. She took off her sunhat and placed it gently on her towel. Next, she pulled the coverup over her head to reveal the pale blue strapless swimsuit.
Lucien was struck with the realization that he had never seen Jean's clavicle, nor her shoulders. Her skin was the most perfect cream color, lightly dusted with the freckles of her age.
"I don't think I like the way you're looking at me, Lucien." Her voice cut through his reverie.
He blinked and looked up at her face. "I assure you it is with the utmost respect and admiration.
"You can respect and admire me in the water. Come on." She reached out for his hand and they strolled to the water's edge. "Oh but let's not go in above your waist," she requested.
"Why is that?"
"I want to respect and admire you, too," she quipped, tilting her head to gently tap his bare, muscled, tan shoulder, making him laugh joyously.
The water was cool and refreshing. The sparkling blue water moved with the small waves around them. There weren't too many others at the beach, as it was the middle of the day in the middle of a work week, so everything felt very private for Jean and Lucien. He watched her walk through the water, running her hands through it ever so gracefully. Playfully, he splashed a bit in her direction.
"Oh no, please don't!" she begged. "I cannot get my hair wet. I have no idea when I'll be able to get it done again, and I don't want to return to Ruby with awkward questions."
He respected her wishes and refrained from splashing. Though his hair wasn't of any concern to him, so he dove into the water and lazily swam around her.
Jean watched him, fascinated by the way he moved. His legs seemed a little stiff. She wondered if any of that might be remnants from his time in captivity. But his arms moved powerfully through the water. She'd been witness to his forearms on a few occasions, but seeing the entire arm was quite another thing. Under his suits, she would have never dreamed she'd see muscles like that. Muscles of a man who had worked his body hard for a very long time. A body strong enough to protect her from anything that might come her way. And his back rippled with those unbelievable muscles as well. His broad chest with a smattering of masculine hair sat atop a stomach that had been well-fed. Well-fed by her. He was the most beautiful specimen of a man she had ever seen. Thank god he was swimming, because she could not stop staring at him.
While Jean was distracted, a large wave came and crashed upon her, knocking her off her feet. She shrieked as she fell into the water.
The next thing she knew, impossibly strong arms were lifting her up. She sputtered and coughed to rid herself of the sea water.
"Jean, are you alright?" he asked with panicked concern.
"This is all your fault! I can't believe I listened to you!" Her words were stern but her voice was on the verge of laughter.
"I beg your pardon?"
She began to laugh in earnest now. "I cannot believe you talked me into going to the beach! I'm a widowed housekeeper and a grandmother! I shouldn't be wasting my day in the ocean with some gorgeous man!" Jean could not believe that those words actually described her life. Her life. It was like out of some fairytale.
"I think you might have swallowed a little seawater." He wasn't sure what to do with her in this slightly hysterical mood. But since she was standing on her own now, he removed his steadying hands from her waist.
Jean threw her arms around his neck. "I can't believe I'm soaking wet in the ocean, saved from drowning by the man I love."
Lucien's heart warmed at her words. She loved him. She admitted it out loud. She actually loved him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until they couldn't breathe, but seeing as she had just coughed up seawater, that didn't seem to be the safest choice, medically speaking. So instead, he wrapped one arm around her slim waist and pushed the wet hair out of her face with his free hand. "I think it's time we got dried off," he suggested in a quiet voice. "I bet once your hair is dry, you can figure out something to do with it."
They returned to their towels and laid down to let the sun and breeze dry them off. As they lay side by side, Lucien rolled over so he could watch her. He took her hand and traced its lines, periodically bringing it to his lips for a reverent kiss. "Oh Jean, my beautiful Jean, I do love you," he murmured.
She couldn't stop smiling. She almost didn't care that she looked like a drowned rat, or that everything they'd done for the last hour had been wildly inappropriate. It was so wonderful to not care about such things, even if it was only for today.
Jean took her hand from him and used it to sit up. She scooted herself very close to Lucien and gestured for him to sit up as well. They sat facing each other, almost the same way they had in the park once, when Lucien had them reenact the mysterious death of a spy murdered by his Communist lover. Just as she'd done that day, she put her arms around his neck. But this time, instead of just staring at him curiously, she closed her eyes and leaned in.
Lucien was ready for her this time. He closed the distance between them and kissed her. This time, they were relaxed and took their time with each other, moving their mouths against one another. She was utterly intoxicating. It was all Lucien could do to keep from devouring her.
For one quiet moment, Jean and Lucien could just be a man and a woman having a romantic day on the beach. They knew this moment was likely to be their last like this, so they savored each and every drop of it. Lucien eventually had to pull away because he could no longer keep from smiling. His mouth would do nothing else. It had been a lifetime since he'd been so happy. He reluctantly released her.
Jean watched as he turned away from her slightly to draw a picture in the sand with his finger. It was a heart, in the center of which he wrote their names. She smiled. "I had no idea you were such a romantic."
"I'm not. Well, I haven't been in quite a long time. But being here with you like this is like some perfect dream. I don't ever want it to end."
"I feel the same way." She rested her cheek on his shoulder as he stroked her hair. They remained that way for a while, reveling in their perfect dream and dreading the moment when they would wake up and inevitably return to their real lives.