Author's Note: I made a couple of mistakes in the last chapter. Yves should be Yvette! ***blushing at the thought of using a masculine name for a woman*** Also, Perdon should have been Pardonnez-moi (excuse me). Sorry! (Thank you, ForeverCloisJenry, for catching both of them!)

On a side note, while I was writing this, I realized that this will be a three-chapter story. You'll find out why soon.

Chapter 2

Henry gazed at a sleeping Jo. What had he ever done to deserve her?

The day that they had met, she had found a frightened, lost, old soul who had preferred death to the prospects of eternal loneliness and continual betrayal. She slowly calmed his fears and gave him every reason to trust her. She reminded him what it was like to bring a smile to someone's face, to provide and receive comfort and support, and to have a trusted friend. She saw through the lies that he had deemed necessary for his survival, and her belief that he was a better man and her persistence in learning more about him finally convinced him to drop his defenses and to let her see his true self. Her acceptance of his condition led not to the betrayal and loneliness that he had feared but to a deepened, closer, and cherished relationship—and to his surprising desire to live life once again.

At the same time, his own care for her began to grow. It had started with his sincere condolences for her own personal loss, one that should not have occurred in such a young marriage. Before he knew it, he had found himself enjoying her company, finding ways to ease the pains that her own difficult life had brought, and longing to give her a small sense of happiness and pleasure each day. He had almost lost her several times over the past two years—most recently today—and, each time, he had felt a sense of surprise and then relief when he had learned that his worst fears weren't realized. Instead of driving him away from her, each incident prompted him to express how much she meant to him before it was too late.

Today, though, that expression was different. Today, it seemed as though he had given his heart—his whole heart—to her.

He happily leaned back against the desk and instantly bumped his head on the hotel's phone. Running his hand over the injured spot, he shot a look at the offensive object. Hopefully, the sound of the receiver hitting the phone's base wouldn't disturb Jo's sleep. The last time the phone interrupted something…

He rubbed his face as he turned back around to face the desk. What was he thinking? He had never been disappointed when a call about a lead had interrupted them before.

Then again, he had never let his thoughts of touring a city with someone, especially with Jo, distract him during a case. He had never held her hand for any other reason other than in comfort. As a physician, he had never stopped himself in mid-sentence and offered a re-examination of an injury. He had hasten out of the bathroom shirtless with a woman in the other room only once before, and that was throughout the duration of his and Abigail's lives together. And he most assuredly had never tried to kiss Jo before.

He took a deep breath to maintain his composure. None of this was like him. What was happening to him?

He eased himself off the floor and began to pace. There must be some explanation for his irrational behavior. The city had always projected a romantic ambience for those who had traveled to it, and he was falling under its influence for the first time in his life. He was still affected by his jumbled emotions following his latest death, and every action connected to his behavior was at the surface. He—.

He stopped in mid-step and noticed his watch lying next to her cell phone on the end table. He had never done that before. In the few times that Abigail had handed him his watch while he was changing, he had always slipped it into his pocket before grabbing his shirt.

As a matter of fact, the only time in which he had placed anything of his next to something of Jo's was when he hung his coat next to hers during her visits to the shop.

He walked over to the desk and placed his hands on it. It was becoming more obvious that his recent conduct wasn't something new. How long had this been going on?

"You're welcomed to join us. Lucas here could get you a coffee."

"I wasn't hitting on you, Detective."

"…you're quite hot."

"Looks don't go very far in my chosen profession. It's more of a liability actually."

"I appreciate the efforts to conceal them, but just so you know, it's not working."

"There is someone out there for all those breakfasts and dinners."

"Why don't you come up for dinner?"

"Um..."

"I insist."

"I played Eliza Doolittle in my grade school production of My Fair Lady."

"You must have been charming."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just used to you kicking down doors and shooting perpetrators."

"You brought a gun on a date?"

"You look different. Your clothes…"

"Oh, yeah. I didn't have time to go home and change."

"Well, it looks nice."

"…But know that this regimen works best only if done with someone you find very special."

"I didn't want to go to Paris with Isaac."

"Why?"

"…I was afraid I made things a little uncomfortable the other night when I showed up."

"It would take a lot more than that to make me uncomfortable."

"What am I to you?"

"You're my friend, my partner, and someone I care very deeply about."

"All this would be so much easier if I didn't….

"You're emoting, Henry. Continue."

"Whatever feelings I have for Jo…"

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. No man who merely cared about a female friend would make those types of comments or observations. Then again, he would never hope to see her during his day, feel a thrill every time that he saw her, or be disappointed and longed for her presence every time he didn't. He would never be willing to do anything—even lay down his life, change it, or exchange their fates if she was facing her mortality—for her. He would never blame himself if something were to happen to her, and he would never experience a joyous relief when he saw that she was okay. He would never fall asleep while ecstatically entertaining the idea of spending the entire day with her. And he most assuredly would never attempt to physically demonstrate his affection for her.

Henry looked over the image of his shoulder at Jo's reflection. He knew exactly what was going on, and it had been over thirty years since he had last felt this way.

His care for Jo hadn't been growing deeper and stronger over the past two years.

His love for her had.

He sharply inhaled at the revelation. He loved her.

He turned his head toward the window and gazed at the Eiffel Tower. Fortunately, love didn't know geographical boundaries. He had fallen in love with her in New York, and, if she felt the same way, they would continue their relationship there. If he had his way, they would return to Paris one day, but, as long as they were together in the same city—any city, anywhere—he would be content.

He looked back in the mirror. He just didn't know how she felt about it. Ever since he had found her in the park, she had given several indications that she was a more romantic relationship with him. Yet, he wasn't completely sure if that was the case.

He couldn't do anything about it now, though; he would have to discuss it with her later. In the meantime, Jo hadn't eaten since breakfast. Once she woke up, she might want something to eat.

At that moment, his stomach growled. He wasn't very hungry following the day's events, yet it appeared that he might need some nourishment as well. Maybe getting some food would help him gain some perspective into Jo's own feelings for him and into the status of their relationship.

He walked over to the end table and gently picked up his watch to check the time. Most of the farmers markets were closed already, and those that weren't would close in the next half hour. He, however, had seen a supermarket a few blocks from their hotel which was, surprisingly, still open when their taxi had driven by it. It should have everything that he needed for lunch.

He looked at the time again. On second thought, he should purchase enough food for dinner as well. Jo might not be willing to leave the hotel room for the rest of the day. If that were the case, they wouldn't be able to order room service since the kitchen staff had the day off.

After slipping his watch into his pocket, he watched her for a moment. The memory of seeing him die could wake her up and prevent her from falling asleep again. If she noticed that he was gone once more…

He turned back to the table and quickly jotted a note detailing his whereabouts on the notepad beside the phone. He stole through the room, got his coat out of the closet, and headed to the door. He could walk the short distance between the two locations, but he was hailing a taxi. It would be much safer than walking the streets today.

As he started to leave their room, he glanced back at her one last time and smiled. It was difficult to believe that, after all that they had been through over the past two years, he had fallen in love with his friend and partner. Yet, he had, and he couldn't be happier.

Henry quietly cracked the door open and eased into the room. He set the bags on the desk, pulled out their contents, and put the cold items into the refrigerator. He stepped over to the coffee set, found everything that he needed, and placed them next to the remaining groceries.

A moment later, he looked in the mirror and noticed that Jo was still asleep. He wasn't sure what was creating it, but he was glad that she was finally getting some much-needed rest.

He headed to the closet and hung his coat on a hanger. Curious about her need to massage her foot while they were in the woods, he squatted to look at her shoes. As he examined the soles, his heart leapt into his throat. The bottoms were severely cracked as a result of her recent hike. Perhaps the late time was a benefit. With two cuts on her knees and a pair of sore feet, she was in no condition to explore any more of the city today. Furthermore, she would need to rest her feet if she wanted to be relatively pain-free during their interview with their suspect and their return trip to New York tomorrow.

He stood and walked over to her. As he carefully set his watch on the end table, he stole another glance at her. For a second, he swore that he saw a small smile on her face. He inhaled in amazement. This was the first time that he had ever seen her sleeping this peacefully. Somehow, he suspected that he might have a role in it.

A moment later, Jo's eyes flutter open. "Henry?" Her voice was still heavy with sleep.

"How are you feeling?" Throughout his short trip, he was worried about her.

She smiled as she started to sit up. "I think that this is the first time that I've slept well since we got here."

She hissed as she flexed her knees. "I've forgotten about them."

She ran a hand through her hair. Unsatisfied with the way that it felt, she combed it with her fingers.

He inhaled. She didn't need to do that. He had seen her with tousled hair before, and she still looked like the embodiment of Aphrodite.

He momentarily turned his head so he could think. "While you were sleeping, I went to the supermarket near the hotel for some food."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I thought that you've said that stores were generally closed on Sundays."

He shook his head. "I asked the proprietor about it. The laws have changed since I've last been here. Now, some stores are permitted to operate on Sunday mornings, and those in the tourist districts can remain open all day if they choose."

"It's a good thing Lt. Reece had booked us a hotel room in a tourist district."

He gave her a curious look. He had felt that they could have generated their leads if they had stayed near the Louvre staff member's residence. Yet, he had never considered the lieutenant's desire for familiarity to be beneficial on the weekend.

Jo groaned as she eased off the bed. As she brushed past him, she smiled. "What did you get?"

"I picked up the items for our picnic lunch and enough food for dinner." On second thought, perhaps he should have bought something else for lunch.

She chuckled as she hobbled to the bathroom door. "You know, it's funny. After what had happened, I still like the idea of a picnic."

Noticing the source of her inflammation, Henry pressed his lips together. She needed more relief from her foot pain than what a few hours of rest could provide her.

Knowing what he could do, he called out to her as she closed the bathroom door, "I'll be right back!"

"Okay."

He stepped out of the room and looked down the hallway. He spied a housekeeping cart a few doors down. A woman walked out of the room. She grumbled in French about the previous guests' mess as she placed her cleaning supplies onto the cart.

He walked over to her and hoped that she would be receptive to his request. "Pardonnez-moi."

She spun around. "Oui?"

"May I have another plastic bag for our ice bucket? My friend—."

"Your girlfriend?"

His mouth dropped open. He had no idea how to respond.

She chuckled and handed him a couple of bags. "Out of all of the people whom I have seen staying here this month, you and she are the only ones who look like you're in love with each other. Enjoy your night."

Unwilling to correct her assumption about the reason for their trip, he accepted the bags and thanked her. He hurried down the hallway, filled one with ice, and tied a knot in the top.

When he returned to his and Jo's room, he noticed something shiny lying on the ground next to the door. He stifled a chuckle as he picked it up and peered down the hallway. The housekeeper had left them with more bags for their ice.

He reentered the room and laid the extra bags on the desk. He sighed the moment that he saw Jo on the bed rubbing her feet. He ducked into the bathroom to retrieve a clean towel. He wrapped it around the makeshift ice pack, sat down on the bed, and started to lay it against her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm putting an ice pack on your feet to alleviate the inflammation in them." After he molded the pack around her soles, she sighed in relief and looked at him in gratitude. He quickly propped his bedding against the bag both to insulate it and to keep it from falling onto the bed.

Satisfied with his work, he went to the refrigerator and desk. He returned first with the napkins and then the baguettes. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Her expression softened as she permitted him to serve her the meat and the cheese.

He then took the small basket of strawberries to the sink. As he started to wash them, he realized what he had done. Out of all of the seasonal fruit on the shelves, he had to pick out strawberries. He had given no thought to the berry's symbolism or use when he had seen them. He shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps Jo wouldn't notice his subconscious slip if she didn't reciprocate his feelings for her.

Jo's laugh filled the air. "Sliced ham?"

"Foie gras was the only spread that I could find on the shelves. I knew that you don't care for it, so I assumed that you would enjoy ham instead." She hated the taste of the pate when she had tried it for lunch earlier last week.

"I thought that you would get foie gras for yourself."

He swallowed to summon some courage as he turned back to her with their dessert. During that meal, he had eaten it for the first time in ninety years, but he had quickly discovered that everything about the spread was more useful knowledge than desired delicacy now.

She inhaled as she perceived that it was a part of his last meal before the death which their case had reminded him of. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It was a long time ago." He gave her what he had hoped to be a reassuring smile. He hadn't told her everything about it because he didn't want to burden her with the list of deaths which Abe had indexed and cross-referenced in his mind.

Henry's memory of that insight coaxed a chuckle from him.

"What?"

He placed the berries on the bed. "My son thinks my stories are boring." He was still amazed at the freedom to refer to Abe as his son when talking to someone once again.

Jo's eyes widened for a moment before he turned to get their wine. "Not the ones you've been telling me."

"True." Jo's visits to the shop had been inspiring him to tell her more stories from his life. Apparently, several had piqued Abe's interest, and he had eagerly eavesdropped on the ones he had never heard before. The only one to draw any commentary from the younger Morgan was the story of Henry's decision to leave the medical field, and Abe had only expressed his lack of knowledge about the real reason he had missed Don Larsen's perfect World Series game.

Henry saw her smile in the mirror. "He's not the only one who's been enjoying them."

As he picked the coffee cups and the wine, he could feel her eyes scrutinizing him. He looked back in the mirror. She slowly stroked her neck and briefly averted her gaze in an ill-planned attempt to prove that she was regarding something else. He glanced down and smiled before turning to her. Her evaluation of his physical appearance was quite flattering.

When she noticed the cups, her eyes widened again. "What? No glasses?"

He softly chuckled as he set the objects in his hands on the desk and joined her on the bed. "Given the circumstances, I think that we can do without them and without proper picnic etiquette."

Smiling, she surveyed the spread before her. "So, essentially, we're having ham and cheese sandwiches, strawberries, and wine for lunch. Seems decadent." She took a baguette, a slice of ham, and a piece of cheese and placed it on her napkin. "Let me know when you want to go to Lt. Reece's office to justify our travel expenses. I want to see the look on her face when she sees what the NYPD is paying for today."

"I'll try, although she might request my presence while you and Hanson are investigating a lead."

He watched her mirror him as he tore off bites of the individual foods and layered them in his hand. In the short time that she had been here, she had effortlessly adjusted to life in a different country. Perhaps…

Jo soberly looked him in the eye. "How are you doing? It's been a rough case for you."

He gave her a small smile. During the first couple of nights, his observations about the case, his concerns about his condition and about Abe and her, and his memories had melded together to form nightmares. He roused from them and noticed her at his side. Her gentle touch of his shoulder had soothed him so completely that he had drifted back to sleep before he could respond to her question about his well-being.

"I'm doing better now." He remembered his own need to comfort her the following night when a lead had reminded her of the events leading to his then-latest death and of Sean's death. "How about you?"

She nodded her head. "I'm feeling much better."

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes. She shifted herself so she could face him better. "What made you think of a romantic tryst earlier today? Have you used it as an excuse before?"

He stared at her and then briefly glanced down at their food. "This was my first time using it."

She leaned forward. "You've never used it with Abigail?"

He shook his head. "She always threw a blanket over me and hurried me to our car when she knew of my deaths. Prior to that, no one had met me after my awakenings. And, during my courtships, I had never attempted a real one."

She smiled. "I'm your first interrupted romantic tryst."

He studied Jo. The act of deception and his maintained hold of her hand after they had left the officers were so rash that he hadn't considered her feelings about the matter.

"Did I make you feel comfortable?" He swallowed. It had been decades since he had been this nervous.

She gazed into his eyes. "Actually, no. It was a very pleasant surprise."

He relaxed and tore off another bite of baguette. He wasn't expecting that response.

Her continued smile at the memory stopped any doubts from surfacing. She had enjoyed it.

He reached up and rubbed his stubble. Maybe he should have shaved last night. His slight beard was becoming quite unbearable.

His hand touched her leg. Remembering the reason for their indoor picnic, he quickly checked the time. He then removed the ice pack from Jo's feet and took it to the bathroom to dispose of it. As he returned to his seat, she stared at him and ran her fingers over her hair the moment that their eyes met.

Good food and a pleasant conversation filled the time between their main course and dessert. Jo leaned forward, picked up a strawberry, and turned it in her hand. "Strawberries?" She smiled. "Some might say that you are trying to seduce me."

He hastily swallowed his wine and nearly choked on it. "I had thought that they would go well with everything else."

He scanned her face. Dilated pupils, more rapid breathing and heartrate than usual, flared nostrils, a slight blush on her cheeks, maintained eye contact. Coupled with her behavior since I have re-entered the room, her reactions to my more romantic observations and comments, and her decision to stop wearing her wedding ring around her neck after I had told her that she didn't make things uncomfortable for me… Was it possible…?

His mouth slightly opened in amazement. She was in love with him.

And she had been hitting on him since she had woken up from her nap.

She pouted as she bit into the berry.

He leaned forward, caught her eye, and smirked. "I would never use strawberries to seduce a woman."

She grinned. "How would you do it?"

"It depends on the woman." Every time that he had explicitly demonstrated his romantic interest in a woman, he had used something different. With Jo, it seemed as though their faux tryst and their near kiss had prompted their coquetry.

"Let me guess. You're no Mr. Darcy."

He chuckled at the stark contrast between himself and one of Jo's favorite characters from Jane Austen's works. "I most certainly am not."

He looked at Jo's alluring smile. The more he gazed at it, the more he wanted to kiss her.

He felt her leg slide toward his. A moment later, her painful hiss snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and noticed her straightening her previously crossed legs. His heart broke when he realized her pain was interrupting her pleasure.

He conversed with her as they partook of their dessert, yet his mind was elsewhere. To be honest, he had always felt a small sense of pleasure every time someone had suggested that he and Jo were a couple. Tonight, he wanted to make it a reality.

Soon, their meal was over, and he cleaned up their mess. After he disposed of their trash, he turned back to her. The moment that he saw her, he felt himself irresistibly drawn to her side. He surrendered himself to his impulse, and he wordlessly joined her on the bed again.

A loose strand of hair fell in front of her face. Henry reached over, took it into his hand, and gently pushed it back behind her ear. When he dared to gaze into her eyes, he saw that she was waiting breathlessly for his next move.

He suddenly felt overwhelmed by her beauty, his hand dropping off of her neck, and his feelings for her. He leaned forward, gently placed his lips on hers, and gave her a chaste, short kiss.

When he started to give her a second one, he stopped and rested his lips on hers. Perhaps he was misjudging the situation….

His eyes flew open in pleasant surprise the second that she returned his chaste kiss with a soft one of her own.

Her lips on his erased any lingering doubts about her feelings for him and encouraged him to deepen their kiss into a lovers' one. He poured every ounce of his love for her which he had felt since the moment that he had first seen her into his kiss. He became so focused on it that he barely felt her arms wrapping around his neck and his hands resting on her waist.

Soon, her kiss slowed to a stop, and she pulled away from him. "Maybe we should slow down before we have to explain to everyone exactly what we were doing in Paris."

He nodded in agreement. As much as he was enjoying the moment, he should save that much intimacy for a later, and more appropriate, time. If not, within a few months, they might have to explain why Jo would need maternity leave.

He looked back up at her as she removed one arm from around him and laid her hand on his chest. His feelings for her began to overwhelm him again when he felt her fingering his scar.

"I would love to continue this when we return home."

What did she just say? "Are you sure that you want us to be a couple?" Morgan, of course she does!

She nodded.

He excitedly leaned forward to kiss her again.

She stiffened her arm. "On one condition."

He looked her in the eye. He wasn't sure what she wanted him to do or if he would be able to do it for her.

"You need to talk to Abe about this."

He studied her. This was a giant step forward for them. Really, for all three of them since Abe and Jo were bonding with each other. The eventual outcome of his and Jo's relationship would affect his son as well. What would Abe say about it?

A few moments later, Henry started to chuckle. "I don't have to."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when you used our bathroom before our departure?"

She nodded at the memory.

"He had noticed that I wasn't pleased with the idea of coming here for a case. Naturally, I wanted us to have some time in the city to ourselves. I had planned to talk to Lt. Reece and Dr. Lippmann about giving us a couple of extra days off so that you and I could get lost like we had talked about. When Lt. Reece said—."

She pressed a finger onto his lips and smiled. "You're lecturing."

As the gesture sent a surprising rush of pleasure through him, he immediately and blissfully forgot what he was saying.

She returned her hand to his chest. "Anyway?"

Where was I? Ah, yes. "Abe asked me why I wasn't excited about our trip. I mentioned the circumstances that led to our desire to come here together. He apologized for his timing about his news concerning Abigail and for not recognizing our feelings for each other that night. He then suggested that we should come back shortly after the case is closed so that we could have our trip." His son's idea was still a very tempting one, but, with Jo's injuries, it would have to wait.

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. "He what?"

She looked lovingly into Henry's eyes. "That was the only time that I found myself kind of hating an old man, and I'm not talking about you."

Henry smiled at the memory of Abe's interruption. "He had a horrible habit of interrupting Abigail and me from the moment that we had adopted him until the day he realized what he had been doing." He bit his lower lip for a second. "He should be the first to know about the change in our relationship. Let's tell him when he picks us up at the airport."

"He's going to be surprised when he sees us together."

She then sighed. "I'm going to miss this. With the exception of watching you die, I've really enjoyed myself today."

Henry leaned toward Jo. "We will return one day. I promise."

"You have to teach me some French before we come back. I want to be able to understand everyone, including you."

He was happy to start her lessons right now. "Je t'aime." He finished his lean and chastely kissed her again.

After he slightly parted from her, she whispered, "What does that mean?"

He lowered his voice. "I love you."

He gazed into her wide eyes and observed her acceptance of what he had just said.

"I love you too." With that, she closed the minute space between them and kissed him again. When she stopped, she whispered, "Je t'aime." Her pronunciation wasn't perfect, but it demonstrated her own keen ear for languages.

He didn't care that her response wasn't proper French. He would teach her how to say "I love you too" later. Right now…

They exchanged another lovers' kiss before reluctantly parting. As he straightened himself, Henry took Jo's hand into his and quietly basked in the glow of their new relationship.

Jo's groan as she tried to make herself a little more comfortable on the bed broke their silence.

She looked back at him. "How do you want to do this? I've never been in a relationship with a 200-year-old man before."

He bit his lower lip. Admittedly, he hadn't given that much thought to her question. This was the first time in decades in which he and the woman whom he loved were equally interested in their relationship.

He studied his and Jo's joined hands. He wanted a method of courtship that would be perfect for her. She was a very modern woman who appreciated the way of life from both her own era and bygone ones. Perhaps….

The start of her voice broke through his thoughts. "I wouldn't mind an old-fashioned courtship. You know, like the ones you had when you were younger."

He opened his mouth in surprise and smiled once he recovered from it. "I was considering blending the traditional and the modern."

She tilted her head in curiosity.

"We can go out to dinner and various social events, have dinner at each other's homes, kiss each other, and display some physical forms of affection. But…"

Getting the idea, she nodded. "Nothing else until the time is right. What about chaperones?"

He was surprised at the extent of her interest in Jane Austen's stories. "I think that Abe, Lucas, Hanson, and Lt. Reece will serve as informal chaperones." He remembered Lucas', Hanson's, and, later, Abe's "encouragement" when they had learned about the trip. "They might be unhelpful at times, but they have our best interests at heart."

She happily sighed as she leaned forward. "I can live with that. They've already doing it. I still need to tell my mother that I'm seeing someone, so she would be watching us as well."

He nodded in agreement. Honestly, the thought of Mrs. Martinez's future involvement in their relationship made it feel almost as though he was back in the Georgian and Victorian eras again.

She looked around the room. "This might be a little awkward. You and me in the same room…."

They both had shared a bed with others before—and with each other for a few minutes once—but she was considering their agreed sleeping arrangements for the duration of the trip. "I can make a curtain to draw between us if you prefer."

She tugged her hand away from his. "You won't do any such thing." A moment later, she hurled a pillow at him.

The soft object hit him as she giggled. He picked up the pillow, and his smile grew into a grin. She was giving him the privilege of seeing a side of her that no one else, other than Sean, had ever seen.

He handed her the cushion and joined her at the headboard so that she would be more comfortable. "A curtain isn't that bad. I've had far worse experiences sharing a room with a woman."

She took his hand and wove her fingers between his. "Such as?"

Ordinarily, one incident would be a story for another time, but he could indulge her now. "Try being on the same bed with your loved one. You are tied up in a sack, and there's a wooden board separating the two of you. To make matters worse, you must remain that way until morning."

She widened her eyes in surprise. "How…?"

He wrapped his free hand around her waist. "Trust me. It was uncomfortable and quite the way to discourage even a chaste kiss goodnight. I was…."

Jo's questions and comments began to slow. He glanced over at her and noticed her stifling a yawn. He reached for his watch and opened it. He inhaled when he saw the time; he didn't realize how long they had been talking. He sighed as he placed the watch on the end table. If they wanted to be well-rested for tomorrow, he needed to stop his stories now.

He reluctantly unwrapped his arm from around her. He was enjoying their time together, and he hated the idea that it had come to an end for the night.

"You're stopping?"

He inhaled. "Unfortunately, yes. It's getting late."

He gazed at her, and his love for her overpowered him yet again. He leaned over and kissed her good night.

"You can finish your story in the morning." She gave him one last kiss before easing herself down on the bed. "I love you."

"I love you too."

As she pulled the covers over herself, he gently brushed her hair off her face. "Good night."

"'Night." Her voice was becoming a whisper.

He eased off the bed and carefully moved his bedding to the floor. He then removed the ice pack from her feet, took it to the bathroom, and emptied the water into the bathtub. While he watched the water drain from the bag, he smiled. Based on what he had seen the last time that she had gone to the bathroom, it appeared that the cold packs were doing an excellent job in alleviating her foot pain.

He headed back to his "bed" and prepared it for the night. As he sat down on the floor, he looked back up at her. A part of his mind suddenly told him that they were indulging in a fantasy. One or both of them would wake up from their dream in the morning, and everything would return to the way it was before today.

He took a deep breath before settling down for the night. He hoped that it wasn't the case. He was in love with her, and he wasn't sure what he would do if the grim idea proved to be true.

Author's Note: Henry's story refers to the practice of bundling. It had originated in the Netherlands, and people in the United States and the UK had practiced it in the 1700s and 1800s. Supposedly, it was a way to allow courting couples to share a bed without anything that would make this an M-rated story.

As for the law, I discovered it while I was reading an article about Paris. In 2016, the French parliament passed a law saying that stores in tourist areas can conduct business all day on Sundays and until midnight the rest of the week. Opponents of the law feel that it is a way to make working on Sundays the norm across France. (My French readers, please correct me if I'm wrong. I'll be glad to make a correction in my author's note for the next chapter.)