The Broken Road

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Fifty-Four

An image of that damn log cabin from the floor plans floated painfully before her eyes. Holy hell, she didn't want to see it. She didn't want to look at it. She certainly didn't want to vocalize her opinions about it. She wouldn't be able to dredge up anything solid or remotely positive to say. But, because he was looking at her so expectantly, so patiently, so….oh my, she couldn't quite put her finger on the exact emotion. All she knew was that her heart started thundering wildly in her chest. Because of him, she nodded slowly and, with her gaze trained solely on the ground, turned the rest of her body around. Once again breathing the air that belonged solely to Ten Acres, she dug down deep and somehow found the courage to glance over at the structure.

And then she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. Oh. My God. The blue of her eyes, normally as bright and clear and open as a summer day, darkened to deeper cobalt. Her mouth turned into a small O of pure and complete astonishment. She didn't even realize she covered it with her hand or that she took an involuntary step forward. All she could see, all she could focus on, was the large house reigning with unquestionable magnificence over the grounds of Ten Acres. She blinked once, twice, then three times, just to see if her eyes were deceiving her. They weren't. Gleeps. No, they weren't. It stayed there; the glorious vision. Right in front of her.

The house. It wasn't a log cabin. Wasn't anywhere close to resembling one. Oh, my, no. It was a house. A home. A large, exquisite, comfortable country style farmhouse. A wide porch wrapped around the front of it; most likely outlined its way across the entirety of the house. And it was blue. Blue. A very pretty shade of blue, with charming gray shutters adorning each and every window, as well as a front door in a matching shade. A flight of wide stairs led up to the inviting porch. Gables gently rose from the second floor. Her heart literally stopped and a pool of unshed tears popped into her eyes. It was beautiful; exactly what she'd envisioned, all those years ago. A perfect replica of every dream she never realized she still held and cherished. Longing like she'd never experienced before speared through her, slicing her heart in two. Dear Lord, she wanted this house.

Jim wasn't studying the house. There was no need to. He knew what it looked like. He'd put enough hours into its design; spent enough time watching it take shape under the grumblings of his contractor. No, he was watching her instead, and cataloguing each and every emotion as it floated across her overly-expressive face. Shock and incredulity. Hope and wonder. Best of all; awe. It was there, all right there, flickering with the ethereal beauty of a flame for him to see and note and watch and appreciate. Although it was hard to let her take it all in on her own time and in her own way, he stayed silent, tucked his hands in his pocket, and simply did what he did best when it came to Trixie. He observed.

Slowly, her hand dropped from her mouth. She took a set of small steps forward before abruptly halting her progress. She lifted a hand and pointed in the direction of the house. Surprise was in her voice. Incredulity was stamped vividly across her face. Hope, that one-time fickle emotion, was cradled carefully within her heart, calling out to be released. She didn't care that she stammered. "It's not a log cabin, Jim. Jim. Jim, it's not a log cabin."

"No," he instantly agreed, the emerald the most intense green it had ever been. Because he wanted to reach for her, he once again turned his hands into tight fists in his pockets. Could she see what the house meant? What he wanted? God, he hoped so. "It's not."

"It's supposed to be." She knew she was close to stuttering; she truly did. She simply couldn't stop herself. He'd even shown her the plans, not too long ago. She'd seen with her own eyes what he'd intended to do, what he'd wanted to build on the plot of Ten Acres. What she couldn't figure out was why he had altered his original plan. She started chewing on her bottom lip. "Jim, it's supposed to be a log cabin."

"Maybe it was." He lifted a shoulder, shot her an almost-smile, and noted how she couldn't tear her gaze away from the house. "Once upon a time. But…now…well, it's not."

Understatement of the year. Big, bold and beautiful, it most definitely was not a log cabin. Spellbound, Trixie turned once more to the house. Part of her was longing to race towards it, to touch it and explore it and make herself firmly believe in its splendid and marvelous presence. But she couldn't force her wooden feet to move. She simply couldn't. Too caught up in shock, she was stuck directly on the outskirts, looking in. Unsure of her moves; uncertain of his motives. But totally sure of her own wants and needs.

She wasn't voicing a million and one questions, something he'd kinda expected her to do. She wasn't jumping up or down in excitement, either. She also wasn't singing the house's praises. And she didn't appear to be anywhere close to throwing herself into his arms. A slight frown settled on his face. Jim cleared his throat. Nervously. Since the silence was getting to him, he offered the patented explanation he figured he'd give anyone who asked about the multitude of changes he'd instigated, and at such an inflated price from the original one, "While it's a nice design, the log cabin style didn't fit the surrounding area. Once we got into the building part, I decided to make a change. It was a necessary change. It didn't match."

"I see," she murmured, her heart thundering so loudly she was surprised it didn't frighten away any of the hidden wildlife around them.

Did she really? He couldn't tell, not with her head averted and her mouth so unnaturally quiet. "My contractor hates me," he continued, one edge of his lip curling up in a show of disdain. He chuckled slightly when she whipped her head around, dumbfounded. At least she was looking at him. Shrugging a resigned shoulder, he elaborated with a small sigh, "Absolutely, positively hates me. He was able to make the changes happen. It took a lot of time, a lot of effort, some serious overtime, and a whole lot of headaches to make what I wanted into a reality."

What he wanted. Dear God, he wanted the blue farmhouse of her dreams. Of his dreams. Of their dreams. She didn't care how it happened. She really didn't. The cost, the changes, the headaches caused by it all…yeah, none of that mattered to her. All that mattered was…why? Why did he change the design? Why did he want it? If the answer was what she thought it was, what she prayed it was, then there was a truly good reason for the rapid beating of her heart, for the prickly tears threatening to spill from the blue pool of her eyes, and for the sudden warmth enveloping her very soul. She quickly glanced away, not quite certain, and replied quietly, measuring her words carefully, "It must have been a tough experience to go through."

He was getting tired of not being able to look at her face. Now, all he could see were her curls, being tousled about with a gentle whip of the wind. He smoothed away his frown and grabbed her hand again. To hell with it. If she wasn't willing to walk to it herself, he was damn well going to take her to their house. Gruffly, he muttered as he tromped over the uneven ground, "Come on, Trix. Let me show you the new and improved Ten Acres."

"It sure beats the old mansion that used to stand here." Trixie forced the words out through a thick lump of unresolved emotion residing almost painfully in her throat. "It's much prettier." And perfect and lovely and, oh, just about everything she ever wanted. From under her lashes, she covertly studied Jim. It yielded nothing. All she found was his profile. It wasn't enough. She couldn't garner any information on what mattered the most to her.

"I moved in a few days ago." Jim held onto her hand tightly as they crossed over the unfinished front lawn. Together they stepped over stones and a few small ridges left over by some of the construction vehicles. Unlike the yard, the front walkway was completed. He led them over the smooth stones and halted at the wide base of the porch steps to warn her, "It's live-inable but it's not fully finished. Or fully furnished. I've been working on the detail work since I moved in. I've made some progress but there's still a lot left to do. Trixie, it's not done yet."

"That's okay. I'm sure the inside is just as beautiful as the outside." Trixie put her hand on the smooth railing painted a soft gray while a yearning for the beautiful house to be theirs assaulted her. Intentionally focusing on the sight in front of her, she did not once look in Jim's direction. She couldn't; if she did, she was certain every thought, feeling and dream she possessed would have been parading vividly across her face, for him to witness. And she wasn't prepared for that. She needed more first. She needed an answer to an important question.

"I'll let you decide." Jim fought the need to clear his throat again. He took a series of deep, steadying breaths instead. Wishing she'd just look at him again, already, damn it all, he inclined his head and invited her in with a curt, "Follow me. I'll take you inside."

Their feet created a slow rhythm as they walked up the flight of six stairs; Trixie more than a little hesitant, Jim more than a little nervous. At the top of the steps, she took in the spaciousness of the front porch, noting that Jim had expanded it to give the space a ton of room. It went well beyond the normal standard. There were even swings in each corner, waiting patiently for someone to sit and set them in a gliding motion. Walking across the brand new floorboards, she placed a hand over the outside wall. Her tan hand stuck out against the sweet shade of blue. Even though she could feel Jim wanting her to say something, she couldn't force any words out. Speech of any kind was simply beyond her. Small talk was impossible and she wasn't emotionally ready yet for anything more meaningful.

"Remember. The inside isn't furnished. Much." A small scowl fell across his face. Apparently she excelled at hiding her reaction from him. He shook his head, frustrated, and opened the front door. Looking back, he waited for her to join him. "Come on in, Trix."

"Okay." Cautiously, she stepped over the threshold with him and into the entry way. Craning her neck, she glanced around and swallowed back a sigh of dreamy delight. Big and roomy, the living room was gorgeous. Gorgeous. Exactly what she wanted in a greeting space. It was large, roomy and sunny, with loads of potential. And without an ounce of pink to it. Currently it didn't have the best of furnishings, exactly as he had said. But it had possibilities. So many of them. Although she tried to block them out, to not even dream them, she couldn't stop herself. She could visualize every part of the completed room perfectly, from the entertainment center to the comfortable chairs and even right down to the set of charming curtains billowing in the breeze. She had to shake her head to clear away the tantalizing image.

"Pink's not going to be part of the color scheme," he shared, hoping a light joke would help lessen the thickening air between them.

It broke the tension. A little. Turning to him, she let out a choked giggle and smiled. A little. "And nothing frilly in the decorations, too," she murmured, appreciating his effort.

He closed the front door and followed her into the living room. "Like I said, it's on the sparse side. There's not much here yet. I'm planning on doing more shopping for furniture and other stuff…soon. Shopping's been low on the list. So far, I've been able to get by with the house as it is. I haven't needed anything more than what I've got."

He sounded so nervous. Nerves and Jim Frayne often didn't go hand-in-hand. Not in her mind. She opened her mouth, about to question him about it, when she caught the sight of the mattress tucked away in the far corner. This time, the room filled with her full laughter. Pointing, she murmured, "I see you and your uncle have at least a little of the same decorating style in common."

"What? Oh!" He followed her eyes and, with a sheepish grin, admitted, "There was a little trouble with the delivery. The mattress never made it past this room. I almost had Dan talked into helping me lug it up to the master bedroom but Mart's phone call interrupted us."

"Ah. The baby." Trixie nodded knowingly. Of course. A Bob-White baby would take precedent over anything else. She wouldn't expect anything less.

He wanted to touch her again. Desperately so. But she wasn't cooperating, not in the way he'd like her to. No questions; no sentimental declarations about the house. Nothing. He was too anxious to realize she was just as nervous as he was. On what it could mean; on what it did mean. After standing in the room without speaking for a good three minutes, with her looking everywhere but at him, he gave in and jerked a hand towards the hallway. "Have at it, Trixie. Feel free to explore anywhere. Upstairs, downstairs. It's all fair game."

Normally exploring rated extremely high on her list of favored activities. At the moment, she'd much rather talk. But she couldn't uncover the deeply buried courage to start the conversation that was demanded to be started. Even with the knowledge he'd resigned from his job, she simply couldn't do it. Not now; not yet. She wasn't that brave, not when it came to matters of the heart. The past seven years were a true testament to that. So, she took him up on his offer and started walking through the living room, her footsteps echoing off the bare walls.

As always, he watched her and catalogued her reaction. She wasn't talking. She wasn't saying a word. She nearly floated through the living room and out into the hall. Her steps were slow; tentative. Odd for her. Normally she jumped right in with her boundless energy. Curious about her reaction, or lack thereof, he headed over to the hallway where he could see her poke her pert nose into each of the rooms. Surprising him further, she didn't once leave the hallway. She never walked into any of the rooms, not even his office, which he figured would be the most interesting room of all since it actually had a good amount of furniture in it. It only took her a few minutes to finish her slow meander down the long hallway. Then she ended up in the large country-style kitchen.

A dishwasher. The first thing she noticed when she entered the bright kitchen was the dishwasher. Why a simple kitchen appliance should make her palms go wet with sweat or increase the pounding of her heart, she couldn't say. But there it was. A dishwasher in the room. A state-of-the-art one, if she didn't miss her guess. A sharp inquisitive glance showed all the other appliances matched it, too. She took it all in; had to grin a little at the appalling lack of furniture, both in this room and in the rest of the others. "You were right," she murmured at the quiet footsteps coming up behind her, staring straight ahead.

"About what?" He halted in the doorway, three paces behind her, and rested his hands on the doorframe.

"You don't have a lot of furniture." Moving farther in, she trailed a finger along the edge of the dishwasher, all the while keeping her back to him. She attempted to drum up the courage to turn around and face him. It took an effort but she pinned an overly bright smile on her face, one that didn't come close to reaching the depth of her eyes or disguise the wistful wish that the house could belong to them. Satisfied she had it just right, she turned and, for the first time since viewing his house from the outside, met his gaze squarely and kept it.

The smile on her face bothered him. It didn't look…natural. Damn it, he wished he'd planned out how to show her the house better. He didn't know what to do or say next. And she wasn't cooperating. At all. Too quiet, not the least bit inquisitive, and now with an odd, unnatural smile on her face. Fed up with them both, he inquired, his voice louder than it should have been, "So…what do you think? Do you like the house or not?"

Yes. Yes. A hundred, a thousand, a million times yes. She loved it. It was everything she'd ever dreamed of, everything she'd ever wanted. Her heart actually ached with how much she wished it was theirs. But how could she tell that to him? How? She wasn't brave enough. Which was kind of ironic. She'd only made a secretive career out of facing down the world's hardened criminals. Captured them, put them away, saw to their demise; all with hardly a blink of her incredible eyes. But she couldn't bring up such a subject to him. No, she didn't have that kind of courage. Her fingers rapped out a rhythm along the gleamingly new marble countertop and, once again, she settled for the easier road. "It's really…nice."

Good God. She may as well have reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. And then merrily tossed it out the window for good measure. A slight narrowing of his eyes was his only reaction. There was the briefest hint of sarcasm contained in his reply. "Glad you like it."

Something in his tone alerted her. Going on the defense, her head snapped back. The words flowed out, quickly and unchecked, while she gripped the smooth edge of the counter behind her. "I do…like it, that is. It's a great house, Jim. A really great house. It's so much better than that old mansion that used to sit here. You know, it's not dark and dusty or anything like that. It's the complete opposite. And it's definitely not a mausoleum anymore, either. Like it used to be. It's really nice."

At least the house had moved up from a mere nice to a really nice status. Something about the way she stood made him zero in past his initial hurt and disappointment and forced him to take the time to study her. Her hands, he noted, were gripped behind her back. After her burst of energetic and frenetic conversation ended, she'd already dropped her head, shielding her face from view again. She didn't appear to want to lift her head again. And if he didn't miss his guess, there was a suspicious bit of moisture leaking out of the corner of her eyes. After an odd pause, her rambling words picked up again, even without a single prompt from him. There was more to her reaction than he'd originally noticed. Realization came swiftly, and with a strong punch to the gut. She was trying to protect herself. He could relate. He'd relied on the same defense mechanism many, many times in the past. An understanding smile tilted his mouth.

"Yes. You did really well here, Jim. Really, really well. The house is really a perfect fit for Ten Acres. It really fits the setting perfectly. There are a few loose ends, of course, but I know you'll get them done. Really. I do. Knowing you, you'll probably complete them in record time, too." Afraid she was going to lose it, and lose it big soon, she threw a glance in the general direction of the brand new stove, pretended to notice the time with the help of the bright blue digital numbers of the clock but couldn't see anything past the thick blur of tears that were threatening to spill, and grasped at her only way out of the situation. "Gleeps! Would you look at the time. I think I'd better get back to the hospital before they wonder where I'm at. I'm surprised they haven't rounded up a posse yet to come and find us." Head down, she rushed forward, fully expecting him to move out of her way.

He stayed firm and waited until she almost bumped into him. Competent hands landed on her shoulders, halting her haphazard progress. She startled with surprise at the unexpected contact, enough so that her head whipped back. Yeah, he was most definitely right. There were a few tears slipping down her face. Her eyes sparkled with the moisture, resembling uncut sapphires exposed to the harsher elements. He didn't wipe them away. Not yet. Instead, he murmured, suddenly feeling more confident than he had since he'd introduced her to the house and she had closed in within herself, "No one's coming to find us, Trix. At least, not tonight. We're all alone."

She was going to lose it. Hell. Double hell. The emotions, the desire, and her dreams were all swirling together, bubbling and brewing within her. A dangerous combination. "Jim," she remarked throatily, wanting to get out of his sight before she broke down. She didn't want to break down in front of him. She had to leave. Now. "I really should go."

"No," he immediately disagreed with her and placed a firm finger under her chin. "You really should stay."

Stunned, she looked him directly in the face. And saw him for the first time; even through the curtain of unshed tears. Those eyes. Those emerald ones of his; the ones she knew even better than her own. They were staring down at her. Full of caring. Full of empathy. Full of love. My God. There was so much love. A wealth of it. For her. All for her. Her heart, that once traitorous organ, began to beat in precise time with her body and her soul. It was the first time in seven years all three were perfectly in tune with each other. "Jim," she said his name again, this time in breathless anticipation. Another tear traveled, unchecked, down her side of her face.

"You really, really, really need to stay," he smiled slightly, emphasizing the same word she'd repeatedly used in her recent string of ramblings. Leaning in, he whispered hoarsely, "And I do mean really."

"Jim," she reiterated again, unable to say anything else.

"I'm not letting you go. Not this time." Because her tears were just about doing him in, he used his thumbs to tenderly wipe them away and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. His breath was hot on her skin. "Not ever again."

To her, it sounded like a vow. An unbreakable, glorious, magnificent vow. "Jim Frayne," she replied, trying to sound forceful and failing miserably. But she wasn't afraid anymore. Not of her feelings; not of his. She knew. She finally knew. All she needed was to hear him say it. Shaking her head, making her unruly curls bounce with the movement, she demanded raspily, "I hate crying. You know I hate crying. So, you need to say it, and you need to say it now. Quickly."

He didn't need another prompt. He cupped her face tenderly. "Trix. Ten Acres is our home. Our house. Our home," he stressed again, just in case she missed it the first time. "I built it for us. It's where we have to live. Where we need to live. It's ours, Trix. Not mine. Not yours." He drew in another deep breath before declaring fiercely, "Ours."

"Gleeps! I was so hoping you would say that." Exactly as he'd wished she'd done upon seeing the house, she flung herself into his arms, twined her arms around him, and hung on dearly. Closing her eyes, she let out a little sigh. All the while the moments of their past paraded by her. Some good, some sweet. Some down-right painful. Holding on tightly to him, her anchor, she allowed the painful memories to vanish into the air. The time was right for a new path, a new trail, a new road. One that was not broken; one that was not dilapidated or shattered or moving in the wrong direction. One that belonged completely to them. It didn't merely feel right. It was right. Laying her forehead on his chest, she murmured the words that had been locked up for much too long in her heart, "I love you."

While the words were softly spoken and muffled by his shirt, they were the most powerful ones he'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. Gathering her closer, his hands ran up and down her back, as if he couldn't get enough of touching her. His voice was thick and gruff but no less powerful. "Oh, God, Trix. You have no idea how long I've been needing for you to say those words."

The emotion he was feeling couldn't be denied, not by her. Not any longer. She heard it in the ragged sound of his breathing; felt it in the tightening of his embrace. And cherished it even more when he kissed the top of her curls. Secure in his feelings for her, it made a little imp in Trixie come alive. She pulled back, just a little, just far enough so she could peek up at him through her waterlogged lashes and suggest helpfully, "Umm…Jim? Might I suggest that hearing them back would be appropriate right now? You're not the only one who's been waiting a long time, you know."

Amazingly, at the most profound moment of his life, he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Oh, God. It felt so good, so freeing, like they had finally reached the end of a very long and lonely journey. And they ended up at the right destination. Together. Exactly where they were supposed to be. Because he couldn't help himself, he tangled his fingers in her hair. "Trixie. As if you didn't already know. I love you. I love you." He spoke slower, softer, more serious and added, "I always have."

"I never stopped loving you, either. Never. It's always been you. It'll always be you." She let the last few tears fall, unheeded. Before he could kiss her and distract her, she sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself to tell her surprise. He'd stunned her with the house. Now it was her turn to shock him. Fleetingly, she wondered how he would react to her news. Right as a stray slice of remaining sunlight spliced through the curtainless window, trapping them within its gorgeously golden glow, she tossed back her head and declared almost triumphantly although inside she was quaking, "You haven't asked how long I'm home this time."

Tilting his head to the side, he studied her, wondering why they were taking the time to talk, especially when there was a much better way to occupy their time. "Indefinite vacation?" he assumed, thinking the agency must have given her some serious downtime after her lengthy mission. In his opinion, she more than deserved it. Not that it really mattered. He loved her; she loved him. They had their house. Now he just needed her in his bed. And then he'd start working on how to keep her in Sleepyside.

For some reason it'd been much easier to tell Honey. And then to hear Honey spill the news to Dan. But Jim…but Jim…it was different, most likely because he meant everything to her. "No. Not a vacation," she replied, her words haltingly slow and her gaze fastened on him. She wanted to remember his reaction. "I'm not going back, Jim. I'm home. For good."

Home. Such a simple, simple word. It meant so much, especially when it was spoken within the confines of theirs. Jim heard it. Clearly. But it took a while for him to fully comprehend. His eyebrows winged up. "Whoa there, Trix. What did you say? You're home?"

"I'm not going back," she repeated, the expression of slow wonder on his face spurring her on. In response, her words started tumbling out in a riotous flood. "I'm not. I'm really not. I resigned, Jim. I truly did. I'm done working for the CDA. That's why I didn't call you right after we returned to San Diego. I was so busy getting everything wrapped up out there. The debriefings, the good-byes, the sale of the house. All that type of stuff. I kinda just wanted to get it all done, get home and then tell everyone about it once I made it back to Sleepyside. I wanted to surprise you. I'm done with it all, Jim, and I'm here to stay."

Her mouth was moving. Words were flowing. They were probably in earnest too, judging from the seriousness of her expression. He couldn't hear a lick of them though, not past the sudden roaring of his ears. He was stuck on what she'd already said, a whole paragraph ago. "You're…not going back?" God, he'd been planning on begging and pleading for her to stay in Sleepyside, for her to stay with him. He'd never, ever, once imagined that she would already be there, waiting for him to be the one to cross the finish line last.

She nodded once. Tentatively. Emotions were traipsing across his face quickly. Too quickly. She couldn't successfully identify any of them. Making a meal of her bottom lip, she admitted again, in case he missed it the first time, "I resigned from the CDA." She touched a tender spot on her back, yet another reason why she was later in returning to Sleepyside than she'd wanted to be. A certain protocol had to be taken care of. "You can check my tattoo if you want. The initials are gone. I had them removed before I left." But not the infinity sign. Nope. It was still there, inked within the green star, the one that stood for him, left behind with special permission from the Chief. That sign had always been for Jim more than for the agency. Always.

"I don't need to look at your damn tattoo. I believe you." It was better than the best Christmas morning he'd ever experienced. Someway, somehow, he was getting everything he'd ever wanted. A future. With her. It was right there, glowing back at him through the biggest, brightest, most beautiful blue eyes ever. God, he needed to celebrate. And there was one sure-fire way to do just that. Eager for her, eager for him, he put his hands on her waist and hauled her up against him. Even before he kissed her, right there in their kitchen, his breathing turned fast and ragged in heated anticipation.

Oh, sweet Lord. It was everything she remembered, everything she dreamed about, everything she imagined during their months apart. Only, now it was better. She didn't bother to question how it could become better. She'd contemplate the mystery of their all-consuming passion later. Instinctively, she went up on the tips of her toes and quickly opened her mouth to his, welcoming him. Her hands moved up his back, linked behind his neck, and she moved her body more firmly into his.

He was done with wasting time. They'd blown enough of it as it was. Ready to celebrate, he claimed her, exactly as he'd been dying to do since the moment she'd stepped into view at the hospital. Dipping his tongue in, he gently dueled with hers, all the while desire hammered away at him, demanding more and more. He cupped the round globes of her bottom, pulled her tighter into him, and plundered some more. He didn't know how long they kissed; couldn't accurately guess. After all, he'd only been fantasizing about her since the morning she'd disappeared from the beach house in San Diego. Nearing the edge of that perilous cliff, he gradually drew back, hands still on her waist. Watching her chest rapidly rise and fall, his smile carried a hint of male arrogance to it.

"Gleeps!" Her lips worked hard to form the single word. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, an amazing sense of peace and tranquility overtaking her. She was getting everything she ever wanted. Everything she ever needed. Right there, right with him. And it couldn't have been sweeter. Smiling against his shirt, she admitted, "I've been waiting a long, long time for that."

His mouth moved along her cheek, reigniting fires that hadn't had a chance to be extinguished. Quietly, he agreed with her, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin near her ear, "Tell me about it."

Her smile widened. Loving the idea of him needing her as much as she needed him, she brought her hands up and fluttered her lashes flirtatiously at him. She inclined her head towards the doorway. Pitching her voice low, she murmured suggestively, "I couldn't help but notice that you have a conveniently placed mattress in your living room."

Tempting. So very tempting. He wanted to take her up on the offer. God, his body was practically demanding that he do just that, and right now, but there was one small, remaining item he needed to take care of first. "Believe me, we'll get there." He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh once again. "But come with me first. There's a room you bypassed earlier. We need to go back there. There's something in it you need to see."

"Which room?" She hadn't paid as much attention as she should have during her quick tour of the first floor. She'd been too caught up in her emotions, too caught up in her wishes, too caught up in her own dreams and desires. She couldn't recall a single interesting fact about any of the other rooms. Other than the large mattress lying in the living room, of course, she thought with a speculative glint to her eyes.

"My office." Because touching her was a necessity, he rested a hand lightly on her waist and guided her out of the kitchen. "We're going to my office."

"Your office?" Had she seen his office? She couldn't call up a single impression of such a room. It must exist, though, since he was taking her to it.

"Yeah. You've got to see it." Finding simple joy in the presence of her by his side, he speculated how she would react to Max's unexpected present to them. Shock had been his immediate reaction. But it had been quickly followed by a wealth of gratitude. Would she see it that way? Nerves that had recently receded poked up again. Clearing his throat, he gestured to the open doorway. "Here we are."

"Hmm. I think I remember seeing this room earlier." She walked into the office. A quick sweep of the room showed her all the elements of a normal home office. Nothing surprising. Nothing out of the ordinary. It all seemed just as it should be. Settling near the window, she eyed him curiously, unable to decipher what was so important about the room.

Never taking his eyes off her, he headed over to the roll-top desk, picked up an unimposing brown envelope, and walked back to her. Along the way he pulled out a small note and held it out, thinking Max's note would help explain the contents of the envelope a little bit better. "This is pretty important. Before you see what's inside, you should read the note first. It came with the envelope."

Baffled lines wrinkled her forehead. She accepted the note and recognized Max's handwriting immediately. Her curiosity escalated with a vengeance. What could her former partner have mailed to Jim? And why? Her eyebrows snapped together as she quickly read the note again. Nothing too unusual in the message…expect for the postscript. It stuck out. Ominously. Knowing Max, whatever Jim had to tell her was something big. After taking a deep breath, she inquired curiously, "So…What do you get to tell me? And…will I like it?"

A thought jumped into his mind. She wasn't going to like it. She was going to freaking love it. He opened his mouth to tell her just that; then snapped it shut. No, he wasn't going to persuade her to his way of thinking. She needed a chance to respond without a nudge in any kind of a direction from him. Intentionally wiping away all expression off his face, he handed over the envelope. As evenly as possible, he stated, "Look inside, Trix. You'll understand once you read it."

"Okay." Cautiously, she drew out the paper and scanned it. Her mouth hit the floor. Her eyes grew to twice their normal size. And her cheeks flooded with color. "Gleeps!" she exclaimed in a low whisper after reading the wedding certificate of one James Winthrop Frayne II to one Beatrix Bernice Belden for a third time. But the same words were there, every single time. In stark and unrelenting black and white, leaving absolutely no doubt in her mind of its legality. As she had good reason to know, the CDA could really do anything. And it seemed Max had more than utilized a few of the resources at his fingertips to marry them legally. Rendered speechless, momentarily incapable of thought, certainly unable to participate in any kind of a conversation, her eyes flew towards his. "Married?" she squeaked out.

A nod served as his answer. The stakes were high, much higher than they'd ever been in any casino in Vegas. Keeping her in sight the entire time, he reached into a drawer and pulled out two items. One was another envelope. This time; small and white. The other was a tiny black velvet box. She couldn't quite cover up another gasp, which only enhanced the anticipation of the moment. After opening up the envelope, he shook it and two circles of gold slipped out onto the desk, one big and one small.

"My ring," she breathed out, pointing to the wedding ring she'd left in the lockbox before leaving on her mission. "I wondered where it had disappeared to. But you…" She gazed up at him, an unasked question on her face. "You! You have it. You are the one who took it."

"Guilty," he admitted without feeling the least amount of guilt, a half-smile on his face. She wasn't running for the hills or shaking with apprehension. In fact, she looked…stunned. In a good way. He let the smile grow, his own last remaining nerves receding as his confidence began to grow. "I took it out of the lockbox after Heidi showed us your cell phones. She wanted to prove to me how serious a black-out mission was. Seeing your cell inside certainly drove her point home. I believed her. When she and Jocelyn were busy, I took the ring out and kept it."

"I didn't know what happened to it. It wasn't there when I returned to the agency. I checked the box right after I got back. I didn't care about that stupid pink cell phone. I wanted my ring back." She reached out, touched the smooth gold with her fingertip, itching for him slip it back onto her naked finger, where it belonged.

A flick of the wrist opened the velvet box. "How about this one? Do you recognize it, too?" Without waiting for an answer, he took it out. The diamond solitaire was light in his palm. An old memory came back to him. When he left it for her, that memorable summer when she was thirteen years old and he'd run away from Ten Acres, afraid that his stepfather was going to find him and take him away. So much had changed since then. It amazed him how much. And, yet, here they were, right back at their very beginning. Together. As fate had planned it for them. They'd managed to make it back.

"How could I ever forget it?" There was no way she ever could. Not anything involving one James Winthrop Frayne II. Every memory was safely preserved. Big or small. Happy or sad. She had them all. But she was greedy. Now she needed more. Many, many more. Pressing both of her hands against her thighs, she waited for him.

The diamond wasn't the biggest or newest, and certainly wasn't the most expensive one available out there. But it sparkled and shimmered with a wondrous life all of its own, serving as both a promise and a vow. Powerful. He couldn't ask for anything more. She didn't want anything else. Emerald collided with sapphire. Wanting to see every nuance of her face, he shared emotionally, "I always knew it would be the one I'd give to you. When I asked you to marry me."

The time for nerves was long gone. She knew; just looking at him, just hearing him. She knew. Her heart was so full, so incredibly full. She blinked back a fresh set of tears, determined not to let another tear fall. With that in mind, she tapped the certificate, that wonderful, wonderful certificate, and mentally composed a heartfelt thank-you to her former partner. "Ah? Jim?" she reminded him, trying hard not to giggle and failing in her attempt. She couldn't help it. She was too damn happy. "You don't have to ask me. It appears we're already married."

"Thanks to Max." With one edge of his lip curling up in shared amusement, Jim inched closer. "It seems the wonders of the CDA knows no bounds. You told me that all along."

"They certainly can do anything they want to." Her curls bounced with excitement, drawing his eyes to them. One wide step and she was standing in front of him. Keeping her hands on her thighs, she smiled, a large, blissful one that allowed her dimples to dance and her eyes to shine in the way he liked best, "You know, I just remembered Max told me there was a big surprise in store for me when I got to Sleepyside, right before I left San Diego. I tried to get him to tell me what it was but he was frustratingly close-mouthed about it. All he'd say is that I'd find out about the surprise from you." Her voice softened, degree by degree. "I never imagined something like this, though. Never."

"How do you feel about it?" He sucked in a deep breath, waiting for her answer.

Stars practically danced in her eyes. "Jim!" she exclaimed, chuckling a little at his obvious concern.

"You're okay with it? Really okay with it?" He couldn't take his eyes off her. He wanted…no, he needed to hear her affirmative answer.

The room filled with her sudden burst of laughter. She started ticking off some of the positives on her fingers. "Let's see. No rehearsal dinner. No photographers. No fittings. No flowers. No guest list. No seating chart. No big, huge society wedding." She tapped a finger to her chin, trying hard to contain another bought of giggles. "Plus there's the added benefit that we're already married. Yeah, I guess you could say that I'm okay with it. More than okay with it, in fact. I believe you could even safely say that I love it."

"You're Mrs. Frayne now, you know." The last of his remaining nerves settled. Jim pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered huskily, "For better or worse."

"We've been through the worst already." She gave her head a little shake. "I don't know about you but I'm ready for the better."

His lopsided grin was her answer. "So am I. With the power of hindsight, it's clear to see that there wasn't much we did right in all of this." Because he loved to touch her, he ran a hand up and down her arm. Then as quietly as possible he listed their list of past transgressions. "We broke up. We didn't speak. We avoided each other every chance we got. We moved away from each other. We let the entire country separate us. I changed my career. You took on a secret one. We willingly stayed apart for way too long. Then came last April. Brian's and Honey's wedding turned out to be a wonderful readjustment for us but it ended too soon. We had to leave each other, just when things were starting to go right again between us. However, two months later, fate intervened in the form of Las Vegas."

"Viva Las Vegas," she joked through a watery giggle, so damn happy she felt like she was going to burst with it. She loved him; he loved her. And, thanks to one devious Max Donovan, they were married. Judging from the vibes emanating off of him in nearly tangible waves, he was more than happy with the unexpected state of their union. As was she. Every dream she ever had was coming true, right before her very eyes.

He held onto her hand and felt her tremble at the contact. "There, in Las Vegas, I found out so much more about you. I found out so much more about myself. What I wanted; what I needed. What was important. All those barricades we'd made came tumbling down, Trixie. Every single, last one."

"I love you so much, Jim," Trixie broke in earnestly, sliding up to him. Their thighs touched. She rested a hand on his hip, gripped his other hand hard. "So much. I can't tell you how grateful I am for our Vegas adventure. I don't know if we'd ever have come so far without it."

"You're right. Although it pains me to admit it, you're absolutely right." He started drawing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Gentle, tantalizing circles; ones that made her pulse quicken, her eyes darken and her heart go buoyant. "It's rather funny when you think about it. Our sequence in all this was all wrong. We even got married as the wrong people. Although we did have one hell of a wedding night," he inserted with a purely male grin that had her blushing. "But then we were separated again, before we had a chance to tell each other how we felt. I built the house we wanted together while you were gone. Your friend Max 'married' us. Nothing was done in the proper order. Absolutely nothing." Stopping to take a deep breath, he added, awed, "Yet, somehow, it works."

"Imperfectly perfect," Trixie murmured to herself with a charming little laugh, thinking the slight twist on Honey's catch phrase was just, well, perfect for them and for the road they had traveled. "When you look at it, that's exactly how it is. We're not perfect people, Jim. Neither one of us. But you're right. What we did together does work. Gleeps, it somehow works absolutely, positively perfectly for us."

"So I can finally slip this ring on your finger? You've got to know I've been dying to do this since I was like fifteen years old. It's belonged to you since the very beginning." Tossing her a crooked grin, Jim waited with growing impatience for her answer.

There was no need to think. She immediately held out her left hand. "Wedding ring first, Jim," she murmured and caught her breath as he slid the thin gold band home. When he followed up with the engagement ring, her hand shook a little with the bounty of emotions she was experiencing. Finished, she held her hand up, admiring the pretty set of rings. At that moment, the very last of the day's sunlight hit the diamond, making it radiate with a wondrous and lively fire all its own. Charmed, she let out a soft sigh of appreciation. "It's beautiful."

"Ah, Trix?" Jim held his wedding ring in front of her face, interrupting her perusal of her rings.

"Impatient? That's usually my job," she teased gently, taking the ring and putting it on him.

He caught her hand in his and felt her tremble. Leaning down, he sealed their impromptu ring ceremony with a kiss. "Like I said, I've been waiting for you for a very long time." There was a slight pause before he added fiercely, "Trixie Frayne."

"Thank God for me," she responded meaningfully, recycling his powerful words from earlier. He drew his head back, shocked. An incredibly slow, incredibly handsome smile split his face, showing how much he appreciated her response. Resting against him, she shared, "I can't help but wonder what all of our family and friends are going to say. I mean, I know they're going to be happy once they get over the initial shock. How could they not be happy for us, especially when we're so happy? But…" She trailed off helplessly, unable to imagine how the rest of the crew was going to react. A sudden thought blindsided her, making her wince. Oh, her father wasn't to take the new turn of events well. Not at all.

"You don't have to worry." Jim brushed his lips near her ear and dropped his last bombshell of the evening. "They already know."

Astonished yet again, she drew back to study him. There was only one conclusion she could come to. He was serious; totally serious. It made her scowl. "How…"

He interrupted her question before it had a chance to form. "I've got one word for you and one word only." Pausing for dramatic purposes only, he shared in a loud stage-whisper, "Dan."

Her blue eyes seemed to take up her entire face. The questions came out, rapid-fire. "Dan? Daniel Mangan? He knows? How the hell could he possibly know?" Then she interrupted her own tirade. "What a minute. And he told them? Gleeps! Oh. Oh! My dad. Obviously, you're still alive because you're here. But…what about Dan? Is he still breathing?" She called a halt to her rush of questions, only to add one more to it. "And what the hell was he thinking?"

"Maybe Dan figured if I needed immediate medical attention, help would be right there," Jim teased, earning a small answering chuckle from her.

Her chuckles died quickly. "My dad," she mumbled again, cringing at the scenario that came to mind. It wouldn't have been pleasant. "He wouldn't have liked it."

"No. He didn't. But you don't have to worry. Your mother knew the right way to handle him. She calmed him down, which is why I currently possess the ability to see another day." He glanced at the clock on the corner of his desk and took her hand to lead her out of the room. "Don't get too angry at Dan, though. In the long run, I think he did us a huge favor."

It suddenly occurred to her that she was the last to know she was actually married. The knowledge didn't sit too well with her. She dug in her heels. Narrowing her eyes dangerously, she grumbled, "What do you mean?"

"No one's been knocking down our front door, have they? Not even your father." To illustrate his point, he hooked a thumb in the direction of the doorway. His grin held more than a hint of arrogance to it. "Dan, damn him, bought us the most valuable commodity of all. Time. In fact, I don't think we'll have anyone bother us for a while. We've got the whole of the night, Trix. No one's going to interrupt us. No one. We are going to be completely alone. All night long."

The look he gave her, so full of promise, so full of passion, was potent enough to steal her breath and make her toes curl at the same time. She immediately forgot her burgeoning annoyance with one infuriating Daniel Mangan and magnanimously decided that she would let him live to see another day. Besides, she more than liked the idea of having Jim all to herself for the rest of the night. With plans forming in her mind, she met his smile with a feminine one of her own. Going up on her tiptoes, she whispered, her warm breath caressing the tender skin behind his ear, "I think I like being alone, with no one to bother us. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like it. A whole lot."

"I know I do." She was giving him chills of the good kind. She hadn't touched him. Hadn't kissed him…and, still, he was already raring to go. Damn, she was intoxicating. Better than the most acclaimed of wines.

"About that mattress…"she began, tapping a finger to her lips and lifting an eyebrow suggestively.

Playfully he nipped her earlobe and earned a tiny, satisfying moan from her. "What of it?"

To the best of her ability, she ignored her body's response to him. With little sparkles of mischief shimmering in her eyes, she peeped up at him and inquired playfully, "Is it stuffed with money, too?"

Astonished, he drew back and stared down at the laughing woman in his arms. His startled bark of laughter quickly mixed with hers. He loved it. He wanted the house to ring with their laughter, to swell with their happiness, to reflect their life together. In true romance novel style, he swept her up in his arms, calling a surprised end to her giggles, and parlayed back, "How 'bout we go find out?"

Under normal circumstances, she'd have insisted that she was perfectly capable of walking the twenty or more odd feet to the living room. But she figured she'd let him have his way. This time. Besides, she was extremely content to allow him to carry her. There was something so incredibly romantic about being carried away, especially by her husband. Without wasting a moment, she wrapped both arms around his neck and whispered, "The view's pretty nice from up here."

"It'll get better," he promised, his pace increasing ever so slightly when she started creating an invisible line of kisses along his neck. His physical reaction was immediate. Hell, he had to tighten his grip on her, not wanting to drop her in a heap to the floor.

Pleased with her ministrations, she dropped her head back, a satisfied smile on her lips and a knowing look gleaming in her eyes. "Believe me, I know it will. I'm equipped with an excellent memory."

"So am I." Much to his relief, they cleared the hall. Because moving quickly was becoming a necessity, he picked up the pace and brought her into the living room. He didn't stop to flick on the lights or admire what little furniture was in the room. No, he made a bee-line for the beckoning mattress tucked away in the corner. Going to his knees, he carefully deposited her on the coverlet and joined her, all within a manner of seconds. The vision of her lying on the blanket, with her curls tousled about, imprinted itself in his mind. Yeah, he wasn't lying. He had an excellent memory, too. He couldn't wait to make new ones. Twirling a spiraling curl around his finger, he admitted, "Some of them weren't the best."

"No," she agreed without hesitation. It was true. But they didn't have the power to hurt any more. In fact, they didn't have any power left at all. "It's time to let them be, Jim. We've learned from them. We won't make the same mistakes ever again. Now, I want new ones. Many, many, many new ones," she stressed, watching him stretch out besides her. She quickly scooted over to him so that their bodies aligned up flawlessly. "And Ten Acres is the perfect place to start."

"I changed the design after I came back from San Diego. I couldn't see a log cabin house up here any longer. I wanted the home we'd planned on together, so many years ago. I wanted our house," he shared, speaking intently. "Our home."

She loved the sound of it. Our house. Our home. Leaning up on her elbows, she shared the realization as it burst through her, just like the brave sun parting the clouds after a fast-moving summer storm, "It seems like I've been running away from it for just about ever."

"Me, too." And he had. From his change in college majors, to Harvard and then to his job with his father's company and his life in New York City. All worthwhile commitments, each and every single one of them, but none of them, not a single one, gave him the peace of mind, the stirring of the soul, that simply being with Trixie offered him. He laid his forehead against hers. "It's good to be home."

She ran a finger along the edge of his cheek, giggled a little at the fine stubble she encountered there. "To think I had to go all the way to California and back to find it."

"We weren't ready," he responded truthfully. Moving in, he laid a hand on one slim hip. His voice went hoarse. "Not then. It took seven years, Trix. Seven of the longest, toughest, and loneliest years of my life. But we're ready now. Both of us. And that makes all the difference."

Simple. So simple. Sometimes the most complicated of issues could be boiled down to the simplest of solutions. There wasn't any use in debating it or discussing it to death. Nope. Not when the man who'd starred in every single one of her secret fantasies from the time she was a teenager was lying next to her, with the most amazing look of reverence he seemed to reserve just for her on his face. Framing his face with her smaller hands, she got out, her voice shaking with emotion, "Jim. I'm ready for whatever life throws at us. Broken roads and all. As long as I've got you, I've got all I need. You're everything to me. I love you."

"I couldn't ask for anything else. Anyone else. I love you, too." She was his. Amazingly enough, she was his again. His body ached with unshed passion. His head swam with all manners of thoughts and feelings attacking him. One thing, and one thing only, was for certain. Like a light shining out from the darkest of nights, she belonged to him. And he belonged to her. Needing to be gentle, wanting to show her exactly how much she meant to him, he descended slowly. When their lips met, it was like a sighing of two weary souls finally being reborn and regifted, a truly beautiful and splendid union.

The moment was powerful. She moaned against his lips. Playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck, she declared lovingly, her words tickling his skin, "I'm so very glad you do."

"Always," Jim vowed into her gorgeous halo of hair. Traveling downwards, he repeated huskily near her ear, "Always."

While she wasn't fanciful by nature, she loved the thought of always from him. And, as she burrowed her head against his supple chest, as he ran his hands up and down her back and over some very sensitive areas of her body, as her breathing began to quicken and her skin started to heat, she took a moment to silently send up another prayer full of gratitude. She didn't know how they'd managed to do it. She couldn't guess how they'd overcome the nearly impossible hurdles of their past. Love. Trust. Respect. All three had been regained and played an integral part in piecing them back together. It left her with the most phenomenal feeling in the world, one she was going to cherish forever, just like she was going to cherish him and their life together. He was her home, just like she was his. She wouldn't want it any other way. Her eyes shone with peace; her hands trembled with emotion. And her voice rang with the unequivocal joy he brought her. "Jim, we're home."

Author's Note:

Thank you all so much for your wonderful support! I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me! While this is the last official chapter of the story, there will be an epilogue posted at a later date (I need to write it first!). I will also have a little 'something extra' chapter posted at my website...just in case any reader wants to find out what happens next for Jim and Trixie! I won't post it here because I don't want an M rating for this story. It'll be posted on my site along with the epilogue.

Once again, thank you so much for supporting this whole trilogy!

Mylee