1She wasn't sure of the time; the house was quiet, the silence punctuated by the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees. Moonlight permeated the darkness, flooding through the double French doors, bathing the blue room in its shimmer. Jim's slow steady breathing confirmed that he was lost in a deep sleep. Although he had denied that the stress of the afternoon had taken any toll on him, his eyes had easily belied his exhaustion. She'd seen him tired before, at the end of a long day or trying to piece together a particularly tough case, but never like this; he fell into bed and was asleep before she could crawl in beside him.
Wide awake, with sleep a forgotten notion, she rolled on her side, propped herself up on one elbow, and watched him, drawn to those things she loved about him, loved about his face; the sandy blond hair with a certain mind of its own, the long dense lashes that framed his lively blue eyes, the strong, square jaw line, the shape of his mouth, the fullness of his lower lip, even the little crook in the bridge of his nose, a souvenir from his days in the ring. She felt herself smile at the thought of all the mornings yet to come, a lifetime of mornings when she would awaken like this and find him beside her. Any last tinge of anger harbored from the earlier events was, in this moment of serenity, eclipsed by the complete contentment in her heart.
She disrobed quietly, and inched closer to him, raising the heavy brocade comforter and sliding her hand under. He stirred against her.
A low moan escaped his throat and his eyes fluttered open. "Christie, what are you doing?" he murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep.
"Shhhhhhhh!" she laid a finger against his lips. "Don't say anything, Jimmy." Nestling her body tightly to him, her mouth found his and he responded to her instinctively, his senses immediately roused to the spark of her touch.
That touch seemed somehow different this time; she allowed her hands to linger, exploring intimately, unhurried and deliberate, like she had never touched him before. Her fingers danced on his skin, slid along the brawny build of his arms, caressed the strength of his shoulders and chest, lingered in the little hollow at the base of his throat before trailing lightly across his abdomen. She heard his breath catch as she pulled the hem of his T-shirt from the cinched waist of his sweats and in one swift motion, lifted it over his head. Drawing the cord at his middle, she loosened the pants, and tugged them down, relieving him of their constraint.
His breath was hot and brisk in her ear. Wrapping her in his arms, he lifted her to straddle him. She caught his hands in hers and pushed his arms over his head, pinning them to the bed. Leaning forward with the soft waves of her hair brushing against him, she teased his heightened nerves with her tongue, until her mouth pressed against his, hungry and possessive. He untangled his fingers from hers and moved eagerly across her body, finding those places that quivered to his touch.
"Jimmy," her voice was barely a whisper, his name caught in a gasp that escaped as he lowered her to him, shuddering as he filled her.
They moved as one, rising up and ebbing down again, gazes locked together. She watched the subtle changes in his expression, the indolent pleasure in his eyes gradually supplanted by the intensity of his growing want. His breath came harder, his heart raced under her, and his fingers, once gently interlaced with hers, gripped a little tighter. With one final pitch, they peaked, trembling in the turbulence of that swell and in the ensuing tranquility, basked in its afterglow.
Framing her face in his hands, he met her in a gentle kiss, tender and loving, and she knew, more so than she had before, that she was his, would always be his. Were there any reemerging doubts, they were quickly dispelled by the simple knowledge that what she had found with him was right and real. Nothing, not the pain of his past, the complications of the present, the events of this day or any other day, could possibly tear them apart.
He drew her to him, she curled into his embrace and sighed deeply. "I love you, Jimmy," she whispered. "I will always love you."
His arms tightened around her possessively, and with the first light of dawn fracturing the fragile hold of the night, they slept again.
When she woke to the sunlight streaming through the windows, she found herself alone, the sheets and comforter neatly pulled up on Jim's side of the bed.
She sat and stretched trying to discard the lingering remnants of sleep. "Jimmy?" she called, expecting to hear him answer from the bathroom. There was no response. Slipping her arms into her robe, she pulled the sash tightly around her waist and headed downstairs.
Stewart Sullivan leaned around the counter, an open pouch of coffee in his hand, and planted a kiss on Christie's forehead. "Good morning, Kitten. Did you sleep well?"
"Morning, Daddy. I did." She peered over his shoulder to the breakfast room; the table was empty. "I thought Jimmy might be here. Have you seen him?"
"I did, about thirty minutes ago or so," he said, depositing the contents of the pouch into the basket and flipping the switch on the coffee maker, "but I haven't seen him since. I asked him again if he'd join us for golf this afternoon but he turned me down flat."
"I'm afraid Jim's just not a golfer, Daddy, and I don't think you'll ever convince him it's something he might want to do. But it was nice of you to offer."
"He seemed a little quiet this morning, sweetie. Is everything okay?"
"As far as I know, but I haven't talked to him yet. He was gone when I woke up." She hesitated. "Yesterday was hard on him, Daddy, and to tell you the truth, you didn't make it any easier." To his puzzled expression she added, "I know you probably didn't mean anything by it, but what you said just seemed to rub him the wrong way."
"What I said? What did I say?"
"Daddy," she said, softly, "Come on. In a room full of total strangers to Jim,you stood to toast us, and rather than just welcoming him to the family, you made it sound like we were settling for something less than you thought we should; not just me, but you and Mom too."
"I didn't mean it that way," he said, shaking his head, "I'm sorry."
"Maybe you didn't, but I can certainly see how Jim could have interpreted it that way. And I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
"Alright, I will when I see him." He paused briefly. "Look, Kitten, I'm not saying he's not a fine young man. From the little exposure we've had so far this weekend, it's obvious to your mother and me that he has a good head on his shoulders. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed. I guess I just always had it in the back of my mind you would stay a little closer to home, marry a little closer to home."
She laid a hand on her father's shoulder. "Well, it didn't work out that way. But he was worth waiting for and I love him, Daddy. So, I'm asking you to give him a fair shake please? Stop with all the little innuendos. He'll be more comfortable and I think you'll find that he might open up a little more if you do. When he does, you'll see that he really is quite a remarkable person."
"I don't know enough about him yet to stand here and judge him. It just seems to me, for all the obvious reasons, you're starting your life together on some pretty shaky ground. I think it's important that you have a little something in common and I just don't see it, Christie. You can't build on something if there's nothing there to support it."
"And that's where I think you're wrong, Daddy. We've worked through so many things already and I know we're both stronger for it. I don't mean you any disrespect," she said, softly, "but look at you and Mom. You had all the common ground in the world and that wasn't enough to sustain you."
He nodded, a tinge of regret dimming his smile. "You're right about that, dear. It's not that I don't love your mother, I always have but," he sighed, "somewhere along the way, we just seemed to go in two different directions. Look, I'm probably the last person who should be giving you any advice in that department but I just want to see my little girl happy."
"And I will be, Daddy," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "He makes me happy."
"Well, then," he said reaching into the cupboard and pulling out two mugs, "when you're ready, I guess we have that wedding to plan. Coffee?"
She shook her head. "But keep it warm, okay? Right now, I want to go find Jimmy."
She found him on the beach, reclining in the unusual warmth of alate November morning, apparently unaware that the small waves boiling and rolling onto the sand were nipping mischievously close to his feet. One knee was drawn to his chin, one arm wrapped around his folded leg. So deeply absorbed in contemplation was he that her arrival went unnoticed.
"Hey," she said, brightly. "I thought you might be here."
"Hey," he turned and smiled, raising one hand to shield his eyes against the sun. "I woke up early and thought I would go for a run."
She plopped down beside him. "You should have woken me up. I would have come with you."
Laughing, he said, "No, I thought after that middle of the night workout, I better let you sleep." He leaned over to plant a good morning kiss on her cheek. "What was that all about anyway?"
She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure, really. I didn't plan it, if that's what you mean. I was just laying there, watching you sleep, I was thinking about you, about us, and you know, one thing led to another. It was alright wasn't it?"
"Yeah, that was nice," he said, lacing his fingers through hers. "Thinking about us, huh? What were you thinking?"
"That yesterday was hard on you, and that we certainly didn't do much to make it any easier."
"Yeah, well, I made it unnecessarily hard on you too," he said, sheepishly. "And I'm sorry for that. Maybe I need to relax a little, you know, try to let things bounce off me a little more."
He stood and held his hand out to her. "Hey, let's walk. I saw your Dad this morning. I'm afraid it was a little awkward."
"Yeah, he told me. " She tucked her hand in his. "Do you think you and Daddy will ever find a place where you might be comfortable with each other?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. We seem to have one very important thing in common. Hopefully we'll find others. And if we don't, that will just have to be enough, " he said, squeezing her hand.
"I talked to him, Jimmy, and I think he's going to try to make a real effort where you're concerned. The last thing he said to me was that we had a wedding to plan." His hesitation was immediate; she felt him stiffen. "I think that means acceptance, Jimmy, that's all. You and I need to talk about it first."
He let a deep sigh escape and relief filled his voice. "I am so glad to hear you say that. Christie, I really meant what I said yesterday. We have to be allowed to make our own decisions, okay? No interference."
"Agreed, no interference, Jimmy. And despite what you might think, I don't want a big wedding. I never have, although I think I'll probably take some major grief for that. Daddy can have his society wedding when Erica and Jake announce their engagement."
He raised one eyebrow skeptically. "You think you'll really see that day?"
She nodded. "They've been on and off again so often I've actually lost count. But they always wind up right back where they started, with each other. And, if you haven't noticed already, she hasn't been around much this weekend. I do know where she has been. I think it's just a matter of time."
"Alright, so if they're going to headline the society pages, where does that leave us? If we don't get married here, where?"
"Jimmy," she said, hesitantly, " I have a confession to make."
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "Oh, no, Christie, what now?"
She laughed. "Jimmy, it's not what you think. It's just….I wasn't kidding when I mentioned Tavern on the Green to Erica. I've already looked into it, and if you want to get married in the City, then I want to get married there," she said softly, fighting to keep her emotions in check."That's where I think I knew for the first time how much you were going to change my life. And now I want the fairy tale, Jimmy, I want the horse and buggy, I want the sax player, I want it all."
He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I love it, and I'd love that you'd do that for me, for us. When?"
"On the 14th of December, the first anniversary of our first date. It's only three weeks away, Jimmy. Do you think we can make it? Or do you think it's too soon?"
"Nope, I think it's perfect," he said, and she knew without question he thought it was. It was there, in the tenderness of his voice and the expression in his eyes. "But what about your family Christie, especially your Dad?"
"It's time for him to let me go," she responded quietly."You're my man now, Jimmy Dunbar. You always will be."