Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows Chapter 6: The Dance Part VIII, a guiding light fanfic

Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandom: Guiding Light

Pairing: Olivia and Natalia

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Josh and Billy Lewis, Reva Shayne, Matt Reardon and Vanessa Chamberlain are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera and Bianca Montgomery are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney. The movie [i]Steel Magnolias[/i] in the property of Rastar Films. No copyright infringement intended with regard to GL, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, AMC, ABC, Disney, Rastar, or any other entity.

The dialogue, props, etc. in these scenes are original, though there is some slight resemblance to actual dialogue from the 8.19.2009 scenes between Olivia and Josh. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

Thank you all for your continued interest in this story. I truly appreciate y'all taking the time to read and comment. Your comments are gifts to me—they encourage me, and help me in my quest to become a better writer, so thank you all for being so generous. Where possible, I think I've responded to everyone individually, but if I missed anyone, please know that it was not intentional.

That being said, as promised for this weekend, I humbly submit the next update for your reading pleasure. I'll warn you, it's a bit of a rollercoaster. I've endeavored to give voice to some of Olivia's internal ramblings, and hopefully shed some light on her uncharacteristic behaviors—i.e. why she's being so edgy about sex. There's a lot more to it than meets the eye, and it's not all revealed in this update. Jen and Tracy are also in this update. For those of you who have become attached to them, I hope you enjoy… The narration in one of their sections gives a glimpse into Tracy's world, and how it is that she could be so young, and yet so stable and decisive when it came to Jen and the boys.

I hope y'all enjoy…

Rating: Chapter 6.7 is rated R for sexual innuendo and language; but subsequent chapters will eventually reach NC-17.

Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

"Words are only painted fire; a look is fire itself."

Mark Twain

Chapter 6.7 – The Dance | Comfort Breeds Carelessness:

Their Briouat and mint tea long-finished, Olivia and Natalia were still laughing and bantering when Josh and Matt arrived at a quarter past nine. Somewhere between absorbing kisses and flirty banter—neither of them could remember exactly when—Josh had called to let the women know that he and Matt were running late. A problem with his Daddy's old pick-up truck had momentarily detained them. Olivia had smiled at the mention of that old pick-up. She couldn't believe he was still driving it; yet, paradoxically, it didn't surprise her in the least. That old green Ford was an antique, a classic, really, though fully restored; and its understated presence suited him perfectly, she thought.

Greeting the women, the men slid into the booth opposite them; Josh sitting across from Olivia, and Matt across from Natalia. Josh once again made apologies for being late, prompting an inquiry from Olivia regarding the current condition of H.B. Lewis's truck, which she affectionately termed, "the old relic."

Josh smiled warmly. It was silly, he supposed, that it meant so much to him that she would ask—even if she sounded a bit irreverent about it—because she knew how precious that truck was to him. It was a tangible connection with his Daddy; one that he hold onto forever, regardless of its operating condition. "Oh, you know that old girl, Olivia. She's almost as old as H.B. was when he died, and twice as stubborn. She'll outlive me, no doubt," he grinned.

Olivia arched an eyebrow. "You do know I was asking about the truck, and not Reva, don't you?" she smirked.

"Olivia!" Natalia exclaimed, mortified, as Josh chuckled at her.

Matt grinned and shook his head, as Olivia sat there, ignoring Natalia's scowl, and looking rather pleased with her witty self.

"You do have a rather biting sort of wit about you—don't you, Olivia," Josh said with a grin. "It's kinda charming, in that, coming from anyone else, I would need to kick some serious ass; but… when it rolls off your tongue, I just wanna bottle it up 'n sell it." His southern boy charm had come out to play.

Olivia smirked, golden flecks twinkling in flowing jade. "I have my moments," she agreed with cavalier ease, raising her wine glass toward him. No sense arguing what half the town knew to be true. There were far better battles to choose, in her estimation. Little did she know, she would be choosing one such battle tonight—Or rather, her carelessness would cause it to choose her…

"Well, let's hope you don't have any more of those moments tonight," Natalia said, lips tight, leaving Olivia with no question that she had been duly warned. The men had been there less than ten minutes, and already Olivia and Josh were flirting. Natalia sighed. This was going to be a long night, she realized, much to her chagrin.

The hotelier simply smiled her acknowledgment, and moved the conversation forward. She knew better than to argue with that expression on Natalia's face.

The comment was forgotten then, and they chattered amiably, making small-talk really, as they waited for Damian to return to take their drink orders. When he reappeared, Natalia declined any additional alcohol, noting that she was content to continue with the wine from their dinner. Not surprisingly, Matt's order of a Bud Light was simplistic, yet solid; reflecting the essence of the man himself.

Once Matt had placed his order, Olivia offered Josh a playful, yet devious smile, as she requested a bottle of his favorite bourbon and two glasses.

Josh chuckled, and nodded his head approvingly. The woman sure knew her liquor. "Darlin', you know I can't resist a woman with a love for expensive whiskey," he said, offering her a roguish grin.

"Or one with the iron liver to metabolize an entire fifth of it," Olivia added, arching a mischievous eyebrow.

"Oh, it's gonna be one of those nights, is it?" Josh laughed; making more of a statement than asking a question, as he shook his head at her. "Natalia, I hope you're prepared…" he winced, a cautionary tone in his voice.

Knowing that hard liquor was bad for Olivia's heart, Natalia's breath caught in her chest at the thought of her drinking so heavily. She offered a look of concern; but said nothing.

Olivia read the unspoken message, and reached over beneath the table, taking Natalia's hand into her own; squeezing it gently, as if to offer reassurance. "Just one, I promise," she said quietly.

How did just a simple touch from Olivia always manage to quell her doubts and fears? Natalia wondered.

Then, glancing back at Josh, Olivia sighed, "I'm afraid those nights are over, my friend. My warden here has restricted me to the occasional glass of wine, and only on rare occasions can I get away with the really good stuff," she grinned, bumping her shoulder against Natalia's; receiving only a passive smile and a shaking of the head in return.

Olivia leaned across the table then, cupping her mouth with her hand, "I'm surprised she hasn't banned me from my caffeine," she whispered conspiratorially, though purposely loudly enough for Natalia to hear her. Comfort breeds carelessness, her subconscious whispered to her. She tossed the niggling thought away. "Good God, can you even imagine what a bitch I would be in the morning without that?"

Natalia couldn't help the satisfied smirk that teased at the corners of her mouth, knowing that she had effectively weaned the hotelier from her poison nearly a year prior. Josh laughed at the thought; thanking God and all the Saints he wouldn't be the one to face Olivia if she were ever deprived of her coveted morning infusion.

Damian returned with their drinks, pouring two glasses of bourbon for Josh and Olivia before setting the decanter down on the table, and leaving the four of them to fall into easy conversation. And though, after the evening they had shared, it proved quite a challenge for Olivia and Natalia to keep their hands and lips to themselves, the group chatted amiably, for the better part of an hour.

After answering Olivia and Natalia's inquires about Reva, Marah, and Shayne, Josh politely inquired about Emma, Ava, and Rafe, receiving beaming reports from their mothers. The connection between the two women was palpable—the subtle touches, exchange of glances that spoke more than any words could say, as they passed the conversation back and forth, talking about their children; often finishing one another's sentences. Natalia couldn't seem to say enough about how bright, and articulate, and simply amazing Emma was, in every conceivable way, or how much she enjoyed visiting with Ava when she was home for Christmas, and was looking forward to getting to know her better on future trips. She even suggested to Olivia that they make a trip to San Francisco to visit her when they all had time. Clearly her misgivings about taking time off to travel with Olivia had been assuaged by their recent conversation. The suggestion was well-received by Olivia, and Natalia offered to check their calendars for an opening the next morning. And just that effortlessly, the decision had been made.

Olivia, in turn, spoke freely of her desire to secure Rafe's release from prison and help give him a fresh start in life. "Rafe was grief-stricken over losing his father, and what happened was an accident. He deserves a second chance, and I wanna give that to him," she said forthrightly, taking a sip of her bourbon. Damn, it tasted good. She set the glass back on the table, turning a bit introspective then. "God knows, I've done far worse things in my life… I did them deliberately, and… look at the second chance I've received," she said quietly; and Natalia knew she was speaking not only of her new heart, but also of their love.

Reaching over, she took Olivia's hand into her own. Her gentle squeeze imparted both awareness of Olivia's emotions and appreciation for the unwavering support she had always extended when it came to Rafe; especially given that her son had done little, if anything, to deserve it, and had never once acknowledged Olivia's kindness. That's going to change, or else, Natalia silently vowed.

There was much that Josh could have said with regard to Olivia's past misdeeds, but he simply wasn't that kind of man. Instead, he chose to focus on the clearly visible changes in the woman who had once been his wife. In his heart, he knew that Natalia was perfect for her—Natalia tamed her, challenged her, gave her a reason to strive for better, and he regarded their fledgling relationship with genuine happiness.

He smiled warmly at them, raising his glass. "To new beginnings," he toasted good-naturedly, "and to recognizing them for the blessings that they are…" he added, winking at Olivia.

Olivia offered him a rascally grin, and raised her glass toward him. "To new beginnings…" she parroted, tapping her glass against his; and with that, Natalia's wine glass and Matt's beer bottle were added, along with a resounding chorus of the same.

As they were drinking to new beginnings, Olivia's phone rang, catching her a bit off guard. She reached into her pocket, retrieving the bleating device, and glancing at the caller ID, a concerned expression crossed her visage. "It's Jane," she said to Natalia, whose face, in turn, adopted a concerned expression of its own. It wasn't like the nanny to interrupt a meeting—even a semi-social one.

Sliding the phone open, Olivia answered the call. "Hey, Jane, what's up?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ms. Spencer, but Emma woke up from a bad dream, and I think she just needs a little reassurance from her Mommy," Jane said empathically, as she gently rubbed the child's back with her hand.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Olivia said, "It's totally fine, Jane. Don't ever apologize for calling when it comes to my children." Her tone was forthright. "I'm glad you called. Please, put Emma on the phone," she requested.

Natalia's lips adopted a soft smile. There was something in Olivia's chosen words that spoke of future possibilities—ones Natalia would be more than happy to embrace.

Jane handed the phone to Emma, and sniffing back tears, a quavering little voice tentatively said, "Hi, Mommy…"

A tender smile spread across Olivia's lips at the sound of her daughter's teary voice. "Hey, Jellybean," she greeted softly, "I heard you had a bad dream…"

"Yeah," Emma replied meekly; shrugging her shoulders. "I missed you and Natalia tucking me in, and… I missed Natalia's bedtime stories…"

"Aww… Baby, I'm sorry," Olivia said apologetically. "We were gonna tuck you in for the night when we got you home later," she explained, "but… we should've come up to say goodnight anyway."

"We're going home tonight? To the farmhouse?" Emma asked, her voice immediately brightening, as a smile spread across her face.

Olivia was a bit taken aback both by the question and by Emma's rapid change in demeanor. "Of course we're going home to the farmhouse tonight, Jellybean," she answered reassuringly; and in that instant, Natalia instinctively knew what was wrong.

"I'm glad, Mommy," Emma said cheerily, as Natalia waved her hand at Olivia, shooing her so that she could exit the booth. She received an inquiring expression from Olivia, as she moved out of the way.

"I'm going upstairs to see her," Natalia said quietly, answering the unspoken question.

"Do you want me to come with?" Olivia wordlessly mouthed.

"No, no, I've got it," Natalia silently communicated, as she rose from the booth; the waving of her hand providing assurance.

Olivia turned her attention back to Emma. "I'm glad, too, Em," she said to her daughter, as she smiled at Natalia. "Natalia's on her way up to tuck you in, Baby," she informed; receiving an excited screech from the little girl, quickly followed by dead air from the phone.

She glanced at the lifeless phone in her hand, and shook her head, chuckling. "Well, I guess now that she has your attention, she's finished talking with me," she grinned. "Thank you," she said softly; her eyes telling the full depth of her appreciation as Natalia stood before her, their eyes locked in silent conversation.

Natalia reached up, placing a tender hand on Olivia's cheek, as she smiled at her. "You're welcome," she said softly; her thumb caressing that cheek. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she promised. And with that, she brushed her lips against Olivia's cheek, excused herself, and stepped away.

Diane caught the intimacy of the gesture from across the room, and grinned slyly, as she ticked off another point on her scorecard. The texts began to fly.

Olivia smiled and dropped back down into the booth; chestnut curls bouncing freely about her face. "She's amazing with Emma," she said; jade eyes beaming with pride, as she clasped her hands together, resting her chin against them.

"Yeah, seems like it," Matt said congenially, offering her a friendly smile. "Emma's a great kid, so I'm sure helping you with her is a labor of love for Natalia."

"She definitely loves our baby girl," Olivia happily agreed; acknowledging Natalia's role in Emma's life without even a second thought.

Completely missing the significance of her comment, Matt glanced at his watch, then back at Olivia. "Speaking of baby girls, I need to call and check on Maureen," he announced. "She's staying with a friend tonight because Vanessa and Billy are out of town, and I promised to call her before bedtime. If you'll both excuse me?"

"You bet," Josh said, rising from the booth to allow him passage. "Tell her Uncle Josh said goodnight, too," he grinned at his buddy.

"Oh, and tell her we'll arrange a sleepover for her and Emma soon," Olivia added; certain that both girls would be excited at the prospect. "They had a really great time when Maureen stayed over a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, I know… Maureen loved the farmhouse. She told me all about it," Matt replied, fishing his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "Next time, we'll have Emma over to our place," he offered.

"Sounds perfect," Olivia declared, as Matt ambled toward the lobby in search of quieter space.

Josh sat back down, grinning at Olivia; thankful for a little time alone with her. "Seems to me Natalia's love affair with Spencer women extends far beyond Emma," he duly noted; a rascally glint in his sparkling blue eyes, as he waited with rapt anticipation for her response.

A crimson blush swept across Olivia's visage, and she modestly dropped his gaze.

A hearty chuckle exploded from deep within Josh's chest. "Olivia Spencer, blushing?" he teased. "Will wonders never cease?"

Olivia ran her right hand through her hair, as she glanced at him; a coy smile on her face. "Oh, stop it," she insisted; her gaze flickering back and forth between his blue eyes and her half-empty glass of bourbon.

Lifting the glass, she quickly relieved it of its contents; hoping to soothe her anxious nerves with a dose of liquid courage. The smooth amber liquid slid down her throat, suffusing her with a titillating kind of warmth that swiftly splayed throughout her body. But it didn't relax her, much to her chagrin.

She sighed.

Josh was her friend; probably one of the closest she'd ever known, even despite their rather complex history; and she truly wanted to share her newfound happiness with him. In fact, this desire to share the news with him was one of the reasons behind the invitation for drinks; the other being the procurement of the Lewis jet for her trip to Martha's Vineyard with Natalia and Emma. But, as much as she wanted to tell him, she wasn't certain she was prepared for the impending conversation—or the possible fallout.

She knew from his comments and the spark of humor in his clear blue eyes that he already knew; but there was something about actually telling him, that unnerved her. It would change the dynamic of their relationship—a relationship that she adored, needed, even; and she wasn't certain she was ready for such change to occur—even if it was change for the better.

Was she reacting this way because Josh was a man? After all, she had no qualms whatsoever about telling Lena and Bianca. Or was it simply because this man was Josh—the one man in her life she knew she could always count on? Was Natalia struggling with similar thoughts? What if Natalia only thought she had reconciled these feelings with her faith? What if Olivia surrendered herself completely to Natalia, only to have her change her mind? Never in her life had she completely surrendered herself to anyone; she had always maintained the ultimate control, and she couldn't imagine surrendering her heart, her body, to the one person she loved and trusted more than anyone, only to have it thrown back at her in a moment of fear or guilt. Did pondering such questions actually show a lack of that trust she professed to have in Natalia? Her mind swirled. It was exhausting.

She knew Natalia would never purposely hurt her that way, but what the what-ifs still lingered amongst the cobwebs, lurking in the dark corners of her mind.

What if Natalia couldn't bring herself to tell the people who were closest to her, like Rafe and Father Ray? Oh, God! She knew in her gut that Rafe wouldn't immediately accept her as Natalia's life partner, especially given her acrimonious past with the oft-times volatile young man. She couldn't blame him for that; not really. After all, she had been a cold, heartless bitch, no pun intended, toward both him and his mother, for an extended period of time. But there was always hope for him to come around, especially if she played her cards right. And Olivia was nothing, if not a master with a deck of cards that could be easily stacked in her own favor. Then again, wasn't it the manipulation of such cards that had ultimately cost her Josh, when she was desperately fighting to hold on to him? Perhaps she should consider another way. Her mind digressed, but she quickly brought it back on track. Oh, but Father Ray? No. He would never condone their relationship; let alone give his blessing. Was Natalia really prepared for that reality? Could Natalia live with that? Olivia didn't know, and that produced yet another reason why she couldn't allow their relationship to become more physically intimate. Not until she knew how Natalia would deal with the reality and the adverse reactions to the two of them being together… like that.

Olivia's heart raced, thoughts running rampant in an endless stream of consciousness, leaving her feeling increasingly agitated, as she grappled with them internally. Slamming the empty glass back down onto the table with a sharp thud, she paused dramatically, arching a deliberate eyebrow, "I think you should pour me another drink… before I lose my nerve here," she said determinedly.

Josh reached across the table, placing his hand atop hers. "I think the last thing you need is another drink," he said softly, "especially since you promised Natalia you would only have one."

A perfectly threaded eyebrow arched, as a roguish grin played at the corners of that sensual mouth. "Oh, yeah?" she challenged, a slightly flirtatious bent to her voice, "And just what is it that you think I do need, Reverend Lewis?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat as she spoke to him in the sultry tone that was so familiar to him; especially when she was on the prowl.

It called to memory numerous encounters between the two of them in recent months; only now, the waxing and waning of her behavior made perfect sense to him. He laughed at the irony imbedded within her choice of salutation, given the flirtatious tone with which it had been delivered, and understanding the underpinning of the mixed signals he was receiving, he gently squeezed her hand. "I think you need to relax, and just talk to me," he said softly. "I promise I won't bite…" he readily assured.

As he looked at the woman who had once been his wife, not to mention the other party to some of the best sex he'd ever had in his life, Josh forcefully reminded himself that things were finally getting back on track with Reva, of late. He was truly happy with her, much to his amazement, given their ridiculously convoluted history; but there was something about Olivia that he simply couldn't resist, even if it was only the occasional innocuous flirtation shared between them. And with that thought in mind, he heard himself saying, "Unless you want me to, of course," accompanied by a playful wink.

Olivia glanced up at him through those long, thick lashes, as she bit her bottom lip. Flirting was as natural to her as breathing, especially when provided with such an auspicious opportunity; and without even trying, a handful of deliciously inappropriate responses flashed through her mind. She shoved those thoughts aside, though; instead, offering him a tentative smile, as she slipped her hand from beneath his, turning the tables, and taking his hand into her own. "Y'know, that could be a lot of fun," she said, her voice low and playful, as she toyed with his fingers. She paused, attempting to swallow the metaphorical lump of raw nerves that had formed in her throat, "but… I don't think that would go over very well with Natalia," she said shyly.

His eyes sparkled mischievously. "So, now Natalia gets a vote in how you have fun?" he gently prodded. He was baiting her, and he knew it. But only for her own good. "How very un-Olivia-like of you," he teased; hoping his playful manner would get her to open up.

Focusing her gaze on his hand, she asked, "Do you remember the last time we had drinks at Towers?" knowing full-well that he remembered every moment of it, right down to the last minute detail.

Leaning in toward her, he volleyed, "How could I possibly forget?" his eyes turning a smoky blue as he watched her intently.

"I finally found that real thing we were talking about, Josh," she quietly confessed; hopeful eyes sweeping upward to meet his.

"With Natalia…" he said; more statement than inquiry, as he searched the softness of her jade eyes.

"Yes…" she exhaled, a sigh of relief tumbling out along with her confession, "with Natalia…"

It felt simultaneously liberating and nerve-wracking to have finally uttered this truth to him; and it threw her into a state of nauseous jubilation, that nearly drove her to the brink of insanity. Everything in her world seemed to exist on two separate and completely contradictory planes, now that she had confessed her love for Natalia, and truth be told, she was growing weary of this constant state of paradoxical existence.

His eyes remained upon her, but he said nothing. He instinctively knew this was the first time she had uttered this truth to someone of great significance in her life, and he allowed her the moment to grasp the true weight of what she had admitted.

But given the intensity of her afternoon conversation with Natalia, further self-reflection was not on Olivia's list of favorite pastimes for the evening, and she quickly grew restless. Feeling ill at ease with the silence, she slipped into survival mode; striking out, before being struck. "What, no harsh words of recrimination? No hellfire and brimstone speeches about how Natalia and I will burn in hell for loving one another?" she snapped; the biting sarcasm in her tone meant to shield her from the brunt of his impending rejection.

The understanding and acceptance she had found in his eyes earlier in the day meant little in the moment, because the tides had changed now, at least in her estimation. The truth was out. Literally. And no matter how much she might have wanted to stuff it back in to protect herself and Natalia, she couldn't. Her fate with him had been sealed. And so, almost like a prodigal child returned home, fearfully anticipating rejection from her father's house, she sat there, hot tears prickling her eyes. Waiting…

And given his stature as a spiritual leader, not only in their community, but more importantly, in her life, the metaphorical connotations were certainly not lost on her.

Reaching the door of the boys' bedroom, a pile of folded underwear, socks, and t-shirts threatening to overflow her arms, Jen found Tracy tucking two sleepy little guys into bed. She leaned against the doorjamb, watching her lover with their children, and she couldn't stop the smile that splayed across her lips. Jen had always enjoyed being around children, but she couldn't imagine loving another person's child the way she loved her own. And yet Tracy had done exactly that. They had been barely more than babies when Tracy came into their lives, descending upon them like a gift from God himself, and she had loved them with her entire being, without a moment's hesitation. Profoundly grateful for God's gift, Jen watched, with rapt attention, the scene that was unfolding before her eyes…

Tracy settled the boys into their beds, showering them with kisses that made them laugh, and then covering them up one at a time, before sitting down on the edge of Jacob's bed.

Jen wondered how much longer it would be before they no longer willingly submitted to playful kisses, hugs, and being tucked in; all the while praying that they still had at least a handful of years left to enjoy such moments with their boys.

Jacob rubbed his eyes, and reached across the nightstand between their twin beds, his little hands grasping the photo frame that held a copy of Jake and Jen's wedding picture, side-by-side with a the first picture ever taken of Jake holding his firstborn son. He was their quiet, introspective child, and Tracy and Jen knew that much simmered just beneath the surface with him. He considered things carefully before speaking, if he spoke at all, and when he did speak, his words were measured.

He studied the pictures for a moment, his dark eyes quietly drinking in the images, as thoughts tumbled around in his mind searching for words to match; and finally, he looked up at Tracy with curious eyes. "Did you know my Daddy?" he asked innocently; immediately capturing the attention of everyone in the room; especially Dylan, whose attention was always drawn by the mention of his Daddy.

Jen's heart jumped at the question, and she had to stifle the breath of air that threatened to escape her lungs, lest her presence interrupt the moment. She trusted Tracy to handle the situation with care.

Tracy fought back tears, and offered him a warm, almost bittersweet smile, as she gently stroked his hair. "No, Querido," she said softly, "I didn't; but I wish I had. Your Mommy told me all about him, though," she assured, her finger tracing down his dimpled cheek. "Your Daddy was a wonderful man, and he loved you, and your Mommy, and Dylan very much." Her voice held such sincerity that it brought tears to Jen's eyes.

"They why did he have to go?" Dylan asked; his voice small and wobbly with tears. "I never even got to meet him." It was the first time Dylan had ever expressed such thoughts aloud; and Tracy and Jen both nearly lost control of their emotions.

The polar opposite of Jacob, Dylan was always the first to say whatever was on his mind, consequences be damned. Except for when it came to the subject of his Daddy. On that subject, he never spoke. They had each caught Dylan several times over the years, looking at the pictures of Jake holding Jacob; a longing expression in his soft brown eyes. When they asked him about it, he wouldn't talk, and at first, they had assumed his lack of communication stemmed from an inability to articulate his feelings. They later recognized that in many ways Dylan's experience was more difficult than Jacob's, or even Jen's for that matter, because of the lack of connection prior to Jake's death. Realizing that, Jen and Tracy had endeavored to ensure that he always knew he was loved, not only by them, but by his Daddy, as well.

Thankfully, Jake had been a fanatic about capturing family moments both in still photos and on video, and they were blessed to have a few tapes from key moments during Jen's pregnancies; the most moving of which showed Jake talking quietly to Dylan, calling him by name, and telling him how much he loved him, before he was even born. The tapes had been difficult for Jen to watch, and it had taken her several years to work up the courage; but with Tracy by her side, they watched all of them—alone, at first, to allow Jen opportunity to work through her emotions, and then with the boys. Both boys had been ecstatic to see their Daddy, to hear his voice, and Dylan seemed less detached afterward. But still, they worried that such moments couldn't make up for the fact that Dylan knew his Daddy had never held him the way he had held Jacob.

Jen stepped outside the room, gasping for air, as she tamped down the lump of raw emotion that had surged from her stomach up into her throat; while Tracy drew in a deep breath, forcing the tears to stay at bay.

Extending her hand toward Dylan, she whispered, "Come here, Cariño," her fingers urging him toward her.

He clambered out of bed, throwing himself into her arms, seeking the comfort of his Mamá's embrace for the second time that evening; and she pulled him into her lap, holding him close, tenderly rubbing his back.

Jen reentered the room to find Dylan crying in Tracy's arms, as Tracy whispered soft reassurances to him. She quietly walked over to their dresser, setting their folded clothes on top. Then, wiping her own eyes, she approached them gingerly, so as not to startle anyone.

Her hand fell gently across Tracy's back, as she sat down on the bed next to her; nuzzling against her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

Tracy nodded, but said nothing; her attention focused solely on the child she had loved as her own since before he was even two years old.

Jacob crawled across his bed, into Jen's lap, and she hugged him close, kissing his cheek, as they waited for the emotional intensity in the room to wane.

When Dylan's tears finally subsided, Jen reached over, tipping his chin; meeting those tearstained eyes that looked so much like his Daddy's. "Baby, I don't know why your Daddy had to go. Sometimes we don't get to know why things happen the way they do," she said gently. "But, we know that God doesn't make mistakes," she offered hopefully, casting Tracy a knowing glance, as she attempted to console their youngest son, "so we have to believe His plan is perfect, and that we're exactly where we're meant to be."

A glance at Jacob told Jen that he was mulling something over in his head; and so she waited, allowing him an opening if he chose to take it.

It took him a minute, but finally, he piped in, "Pastor Jason talked about that in Kidz Planet last Sunday," he said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he talked about the weekly children's service at their church. "He said even when bad stuff happens… God knows what's best for us."

"He did?" Tracy said, with a curious expression on her face, as she marveled at the fact that the boys actually listened in church. That was more than she had ever done as a child; much to Mamá and Grand-mère's chagrin.

"Yeah, he did," Dylan said, nodding his head, his eyes brightening, as his voice turned hopeful. "And he said God can make good stuff outta all the bad stuff that happens."

Jen glanced up, her eyes meeting Tracy's; and the silent conversation that passed between them under the veil of enlightenment directed toward their sons, spoke more than any words could ever say. "He sure can, son," she said softly. "And sometimes the good stuff He makes is even better than what we had before…"

"Yeah," Tracy said softly, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she gazed into the watery blue of Jen's eyes, "Sometimes, it's better than anything we could ever ask or even imagine."

Natalia reached the penthouse suite, and slid her keycard into the slot. The lock whirred and clicked as she pulled the card back out, and the now-familiar green light began to flash, granting her entrance. Smiling, she recalled the countless times she had entered this door in the past—oftentimes, to the hotelier's chagrin.

She opened the door and stepped inside, finding the sitting room looking much like a ghost town; hastily deserted, and eerily quiet. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table next to two empty glasses, which she assumed had at one time contained soft drinks, given the caramel tint to the residue within them. The remote laid teetering on the edge of the sofa, poised to make a swan dive at any given moment; the television quietly prattling to itself in a forgotten corner.

Making her way through the mahogany-paned, frosted glass double doors that led to the bedrooms, she stooped down, retrieving a wayward sock from the floor. "Oh, Emma, sometimes you're so much like your Mommy," she sighed; smiling at the similarities between "her girls."

The emotions evoked by the freedom she now possessed to consider them in such an intimate manner were overwhelming, in the best possible way. She paused for a moment, thanking God for filling her life with the blessing of them, at a time in her life when she needed them most. The irony of her now regarding Olivia Spencer as a blessing, rather than a curse, was certainly not lost on her; in fact, it was nearly always foremost in her mind, lest she take that blessing for granted. And beyond the irony, she regarded the baffling metamorphosis of her relationship with Olivia as living proof that God did, in fact, have a rather twisted sense of humor. She smiled in wonder at the mysterious ways in which He often worked, and took the final steps toward Emma's bedroom door.

Peeking around the corner into Emma's room, Natalia smiled playfully at her little girl. "Hey, Jellybean," she greeted in a singsong voice; nodding a silent greeting to Jane, as she walked into the room.

Jane smiled politely, and exited the room; allowing Natalia time alone with the little girl.

"Natalia!" Emma exclaimed, barreling out of her bed, and nearly tackling her other mommy; extracting a sharp "Ooupf," from Natalia's lungs as their bodies collided.

"I'm so happy you're here," Emma chirped; hugging her tightly.

"Well, I'm happy to see you, too, Sweetie," Natalia assured; kissing the top of Emma's head. She extricated herself from Emma's grip then, and crouched down, her hands on her daughter's upper arms. "Did you think I was going somewhere?" she asked, concerned.

Emma dropped her gaze, biting her lower lip, as she nodded her head. "I thought you were having a special grown-up night with Uncle Frank," she admitted, sounding rather pitiful. "Like you did before—"

"Before?" The upturned cadence of Natalia's voice begged the question, as she canted her head to one side; a confused expression on her face. Tipping Emma's chin, she met her little girl's gaze again, asking, "Sweetie, what are you talking about?"

Emma looked at her, crocodile tears clouding those eyes that looked so much like her mother's, "Last time Mommy and I stayed here it was 'cause she said you needed a special grown-up night with Uncle Frank," she answered with a sniff.

"Oh, she did, did she?" Natalia said, more to herself than to Emma, as she filed that tidbit of information in the back of her mind for later use. She knew exactly what night her daughter was referring to, because it was the only night Emma and Olivia hadn't spent at home since they had moved in together several months prior. A few more pieces of the puzzle she hadn't known she was working slipped effortlessly into place.

Emma nodded her head, confirming what her Mother had said; and Natalia went in search of more information, hoping to gain greater understanding of Emma's current discontent. "What else did Mommy say that night, Em?" she gently prodded.

"She said she wants you to be happy," Emma answered quietly.

"She did?" Natalia intoned; her heart swelling with love for Olivia. Tears collected in her eyes, as she wondered how many other things Olivia had done for her, trying to ensure her happiness, without her ever knowing.

Emma nodded. "And she said she thought you could be happy with Uncle Frank, 'cause he's a good guy," she added; her lower lip beginning to wobble. "And… and I want you to be happy, too, but—" she became agitated, and began to cry in earnest.

"But, what, Baby?" Natalia asked softy, concern washing over her. "Emma, what's wrong?"

"But I don't want you to be with Uncle Frank," Emma insisted, as the tears poured down her cheeks, "I want you to be with Mommy…"

"Oh, Sweetie, I am with Mommy. And I'm very happy. I promise," Natalia softly reassured; an amalgam of empathy and conviction in her tone, as she collected Emma in her arms.

Cradling her little girl close, she kissed her temple, as she allowed her to cry. "Mommy and I were downstairs having a meeting with Uncle Josh and Maureen's daddy. That's all," she explained. "And we were gonna come get you when we were finished," she assured.

"Together?" Emma said, seeking reassurance; tears still evident in her voice.

"Yes. Together," Natalia reassured. "We were gonna scoop you up, right outta that bed, bundle you up, and take you home," she chuckled, poking the little girl playfully.

"Yay!" Emma exclaimed, as she giggled and squirmed, but she didn't release her hold on Natalia's neck. "I love our home, Natalia…" she said with a wistfulness that belied her tender years.

"I do, too, Baby," Natalia whispered. Her voice was hoarse with deep emotion, as she kissed Emma's hair. "I do, too…"

When Emma finally let go, Natalia gently wiped away her tears. She stood up then, scooping the little girl up in her arms; laughing with her as she twirled her around, like she had so long ago, when Olivia was sick and didn't have the energy to play with her. That was one of Natalia's favorite memories of the two of them; a sweet reminder of the beginnings of her love for both mother and daughter, and she smiled as she remembered those days; thankful that they had blossomed into the life they now shared as a family.

And when the twirling and giggling stopped, Natalia deposited her back into the bed; dropping down beside her. "Now… I think it's time for a little girl named Emma to get some sleep," she declared, playfully tapping her daughter's nose; making her giggle again.

Her thoughts turned serious then, as she considered the unspoken facets of Emma's fears; those things that lurked beneath the surface, never being acknowledged, and thus, never resolved. "But before you do, I wanna make a few promises to you," she said.

"What kinda promises?" Emma asked, curious.

"Promises about our family," Natalia answered, gently tucking a strand of long chestnut hair behind Emma's ear. "I promise you that from now on, I'll only have special grown-up nights with Mommy. No more Uncle Frank. Okay?" she said, as if making a deal with her daughter.

Emma smiled; feeling more secure. "Okay," she said, nodding her head.

"And I promise you that Mommy and I will always be together," Natalia assured. It was a promise she didn't have to think twice about making.

"You won't go away like—" Emma hesitated, swallowing hard to avoid crying again, "like Daddy and Uncle Bill?"

Natalia tenderly cupped Emma's chin in her hand. "I won't go away, Emma. Not ever," she vowed. "You and I, and Mommy and Rafe, will always be a family," she promised.

"And Ava, too?" Emma added expectantly.

Natalia smiled. "And Ava, too," she confirmed; her thumb gently caressing Emma's cheek.

When she was certain Emma's concerns had been assuaged, Natalia reiterated that it was time for her to go to sleep. And noting the actual time—nearly ten thirty, and considering the fact that both she and Olivia had been drinking, albeit moderately, she offered up a suggestion. "What do you say we make tonight kind of a special night?"

"How?" Emma asked, intrigued.

"Well, it's really late, and Mommy and I aren't finished with our meeting yet," she noted, "so what if we all stayed here at the Beacon tonight?" she asked, by way of suggestion. "And you and Mommy and I can all sleep in Mommy's bed."

"You mean like a slumber party?" Emma asked, excited.

"Sure," Natalia chuckled. "Only, you'll be slumbering long before Mommy and I will," she teased, poking Emma playfully.

"I like that idea," Emma resolutely announced, with a confirmatory nod of her head.

Natalia laughed at the sense of finality in Emma's tone. "Okay, then it's settled," she declared. "Come on then," she said, taking Emma's hand, "let's get you snuggled into Mommy's bed."

Emma smiled happily, and grabbed her teddy bear; willingly following behind, as Natalia led her into Olivia's room.

Once inside, Natalia switched on the bedside nightlight, and turned down the covers; noting the perfect hospital corners—a telltale sign that Rosalie had indeed serviced the room after their departure that afternoon. Natalia was good at mimicking her, but Rosalie's work was unparalleled. Though Rosalie was not one to judge, Natalia couldn't help but wonder after the older woman's interpretation of what had happened in that room, given the fact that it was common knowledge she had spent the afternoon in there with Olivia. But as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she cast it aside, declaring to herself that she simply did not care. Rumors, be damned. She loved Olivia, and nothing and no one was going to make her feel guilty, or take that love away from her.

She smiled to herself, proud of her newfound resoluteness, and patted the bed. "Alright, hop on in, Jellybean," she instructed, lightheartedness in her tone.

Clutching her teddy bear under her arm, Emma happily obeyed.

Pulling the covers up around Emma, Natalia lovingly tucked her in; then sat down on the bed beside her. The nightlight cast a soft glow across Emma's visage, perfectly illuminating her delicate features. Natalia smiled softly, adoring eyes tenderly tracing the pure innocence of her daughter's face. You look So much like your Mommy, she mused; reaching out, brushing a wayward strand of soft chestnut from Emma's brow.

Hugging her teddy bear, Emma smiled up at her, and snuggled into the covers. "I wish you and Mommy could go to sleep with me tonight," she said longingly.

Natalia's mouth formed an uncharacteristic frown. "I know, Sweetie," she empathized. "I wish we could, too, but we have to finish our meeting," she explained. "I can stay with you until you fall asleep, though," she offered. "Would that be okay?"

Emma nodded her head, and Natalia smiled at her. "Come here," she said, drawing Emma into her arms, as she curled up with her.

Casting her teddy bear aside, Emma closed her eyes, sighing contentedly as she snuggled against Natalia; wrapped safely in a cocoon of Mommy's love. Mommies were way better than teddy bears, any day.

"I meant what I said, Emma," Natalia said softly, kissing her little girl's brow, "just like tonight, there may be times when we don't sleep at the farmhouse, but no matter where we are, we will always be a family," she whispered in promise. "It isn't the house that makes it a home, Baby, and it isn't always being together, sleeping in the same place, that makes us a family," she reasoned, thoughts of Rafe and Ava on her heart. "It's the love that we feel for one another. That's what's important. Always remember that, okay?"

Yawning, Emma nodded her head against Natalia's chest; prompting a soft chuckle from her other Mommy. "Am I keeping you awake?" she teased.

"No—," Emma murmured; snuggling deeper into the warmth of Natalia's body.

Natalia smiled against Emma's hair, and closed her eyes; breathing in the sweet scent of innocence, as her daughter slowly drifted off to sleep.

And though the slow, deep cadence of Emma's breathing confirmed that she was finally asleep, Natalia continued to hold her close; nuzzling against her cheek, as fingers leisurely tunneled through her hair. Her heart swelled with love for the little girl who had tugged at her heartstrings so long ago; the little girl who had come into her life, bridging the gap between her and Olivia, ultimately paving their transcendence from hatred to love. "I love you, Emma," she whispered softly; tears trickling down her face, as she kissed that sweet little cheek. And in that moment, as Natalia lay holding her daughter, no truer words had ever been spoken.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, kitchen cleaned, laundry folded and put away, raw emotions soothed and boys hugged and kissed goodnight, Jen wandered through their bedroom, into the master bath. The heated Roman bath looked gloriously inviting, with its smooth porcelain tiles, perfectly positioned jets, padded dual headrests, and curved recesses that molded seamlessly with their bodies. She knew if she succumbed to its seduction, she would be asleep within minutes. She also knew that Tracy would find her, wake her up with slow, sultry kisses, and they would make love in a slow, delicious burn, surrounded by the warmth of swirling, pulsating water, just like they had that first night, and so many nights since then. And for a moment, she considered the endless, exquisite possibilities.

But it was clear that Tracy was exhausted; probably more so than Jen even. It had been written all over her face when Jen kissed her in the boys' room; Tracy promising to meet her in bed once the boys were asleep. She and Tracy should sleep tonight, too, Jen reasoned. Morning would find them refreshed—and their early-morning lovemaking was always sweet and satisfying. She had been awakened on countless mornings by the light tickling of Tracy's fingers between her legs, or the magnificent sensation of Tracy's mouth and tongue doing absolutely exquisite things to her. Just thinking about it now, suffused her entire body with heat, and left her achingly wet with desire—a visceral reaction she had never experienced before Tracy. She let out a disappointed sigh, mourning the evening that had slipped through their fingers; but hopeful for what the early morning might bring.

Bypassing the beckoning tub, she headed toward the sink, where she quickly worked out the tangles in her short blonde hair, scrubbed the makeup off of her face, and thoroughly brushed and flossed her teeth. Then, with a sharp "click," she switched off the light, and returned to the bedroom. Slipping out of her jeans, she tossed them on the chair near the fireplace, and crawled into the welcoming warmth of their bed with a long, heavy sigh.

Sinking into the pillow-top mattress and the pile of pillows propped against their headboard, she thought about the conversation that had just transpired with the boys, and realized that it had not only reaffirmed, but actually solidified, her resolve to stop hiding the truth about her relationship with Tracy. Who else would have handled such an emotion-laden situation with the tender care that Tracy had shown toward Jacob and Dylan? No one perhaps, except Tracy's mother and grandmother, who had loved the boys like they were their own grandchildren since long before she and Tracy became romantically involved.

From the outset of their friendship, Jen and the boys had been welcomed at every Giordani-Lombardi-Jackson gathering, including birthdays and Holidays; and their own birthdays had been celebrated with the same festive air as those who were blood kin. It was simply their way—Aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends were all included in their definition of family. The family, in its entirety, gathered at least twice a week, always with mountains of delectable food, uproarious laughter, and most of all, genuine affection for one another; seasoned with a side of drama, of course, just to spice things up. She knew it couldn't have been easy for them to accept Tracy's relationship with her, given the beliefs that had been woven into the tapestry of their family faith for generations, but she also knew that they loved Tracy, and Jen had believed from the start of their romantic relationship that the acceptance they had received from Tracy's family had been fueled by the fact that they truly cared for her as family, and were already in love with her two little boys.

Much as they had with Tracy, Jacob and Dylan thrived in the presence of Tracy's family. They fit seamlessly, like pieces of an intricate puzzle, and with their dark hair and even darker eyes, and their lightly tanned complexions, they looked as if they were descendents of the Giordani-Lombardi side of the family; Tracy's mother's side. Jen loved that they felt a sense of belonging, given that her own family was so far away, and their contact with Jake's family was limited, albeit for their own protection.

Mozart, who had been contentedly snoozing at the foot of the bed, stretched languorously, and yawned widely; then turned his attention to Jen, regarding her with measured interest. He seemed to sense her pensive mood, and finding his purchase, he sauntered over to her; taking up residence in her lap.

Inching his front paws up her torso, he purred, licking and nibbling at her chin, as she scratched his lower back, quietly crooning to him. "Someone is a very spoiled boy," she said in her classic "Mozart" tone. She kissed his little wet nose, and ran her hand down the center of his head, over his ears, rubbing them gently, drawing a thicker purr from deep within his throat. "Yes, he is… Tracy spoils you rotten."

He disregarded her ridiculous notion, and flipped himself onto his back, begging for a belly rub, and she indulged him, running her fingers through his coat of long, white fur. And when she found just the right spot, his hind legs began to twitch, as she playfully scratched him.

Then, his need for attention sated, Mozart flipped back onto his feet like a practiced gymnast, and sauntered back to his place at the foot of the bed, leaving Jen to her own.

She shook her head at his fickle nature, and picking up the book on her bedside table, she resumed reading where she had left off the night before. Since finishing her Master's degree, she had finally allowed herself time to enjoy reading for pleasure, switching off between classic literature and current best sellers, with the occasional indulgence into Sapphic romance. This week's foray into the world of fiction was a legal thriller, and she couldn't help but smile and think of Jake, and a future lost, then found, as the pages swiftly turned.

Josh knew Olivia well; probably better than anyone, save Natalia, and he read her outburst for exactly what it was: Fear, cloaked in anger. He effortlessly assuaged those fears with one simple, yet profound gesture, the most genuine of smiles literally consuming his face, as the usual clarity of his blue eyes turned into a hazy mist of unshed tears. "No—," he said softly; shaking his head back and forth; those eyes, overflowing with unconditional love and acceptance. "I'm happy for you, Olivia. Truly," he offered, the sincerity in his voice nearly overpowering her, as he clasped her small hand between his own; dwarfing it by comparison.

The floodgates burst open, and the booth couldn't hold her body, any more than eyelids could restrain her tears. She nearly lunged out of her seat, pushing him over, claiming the space beside him in one fluid motion; and flinging her arms around his neck, she clung to him, as she sobbed into his chest. "Thank you," she cried out, both to him and to the God of his and Natalia's faith, as the soothing balm of absolution washed over her. "Thank you—"

He simply held her, gently stroking her hair; allowing her to cry.

She wasn't ready to embrace their faith; but sheltered in the sanctuary of Josh's acceptance of them as a couple, at least she wouldn't bear the burden of guilt for having compromised Natalia's salvation in pursuit of her own selfish desires. She knew deep-down that this had been weighing heavily upon her soul. At least the small portion of her soul that she thought still existed. She had even admitted so to Natalia earlier that evening. It was the one thing, above all others, that had held her back from being honest with Natalia during those endless months when they were dancing around one another; both trying to pretend that their world of strategically placed smoke and mirrors was the truth, for fear that the real truth would be reflected in their lives for all the world to see. This moment signified only a single step, but it was a definite step forward in her journey toward complete and total surrender to her love for Natalia; and she was thankful to Josh for giving her a foothold along the pathway.

When the tears finally subsided, feeling more than a little embarrassed, she tentatively lifted her gaze to meet his; her head still resting against his chest. "I'll bet that bottle of bourbon, this is the last thing you expected when I asked you for drinks tonight," she wagered, smiling sheepishly at him.

He reached up, cupping his chin in his hand; fingers scratching against the coarseness of his beard, as he feigned contemplation of her wager. "Yeah, I'd say that'd be a prudent bet," he announced, his pace measured, as he grinned down at her.

"Which part—the revelation of my lesbian love affair?" she said clandestinely; a roguish grin on her lips. "Or me sobbing in your arms like a baby?" she teased, patting her hand against his tear-soaked shirt.

"Both," he laughed.

She relaxed then, and laughed with him, as he draped an arm around her shoulder; her head dropping back against it. Comfort breeds carelessness, her subconscious gently reminded. She brushed it aside—after all, what did it know?

"So you're really in love with her, huh?" he asked; utterly amazed, and yet, somehow, not really all that surprised.

"Oh, God, Josh, you have no idea." Her voice flowed out in a breathless gush. The freedom of being able to speak so openly about her feelings released a stronghold within her. "I've never loved anyone this much," she confessed; but the joy of that freedom was immediately followed by a pang of guilt for having been so careless with his feelings. "I'm sorry…" she winced; glancing up at him, "I didn't exactly mean that the way it came out."

"No offense taken," he said offhandedly, "You're not the love of my life either," he teased; the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled.

"Thanks," she replied dryly; but his laughter at her response coaxed a smile from her lips.

"Oh, please," he said passively, "Completely my pleasure. Really, it's no problem at all," he mocked; offering her a devilish grin, which promptly earned him a slap in the arm, along with a playfully admonishing command that he "Stop it."

When their laughter subsided, he turned serious. "So how are things going so far?" he asked; sincerely interested in her response.

"We're going… slowly. Taking it one step at a time," she answered cautiously.

He considered her for a moment before speaking. "That's not like you," he candidly observed; but there was no hint of judgment or recrimination in his tone.

Olivia laughed. "Hell, you and I both know my reputation for being… impetuous," she openly acknowledged, "but this, well… this is all really new for both of us, Josh. In more ways than one," she quietly confessed. "I mean, it feels so… right, and it's what we both want, but at the same time it's… confusing, and… scary, and… honestly," she sighed, sounding forlorn, "I don't have a clue how to handle it. I've never felt so completely out of my element."

"So… I take it that means the two of you haven't—"

"Oh, God, no," Olivia nearly choked; sputtering out a response to keep him from finishing the question disguised as a statement. She could talk with Josh about a lot of things, but this was one territory she wasn't comfortable exploring with her favorite ex-husband. No, this was something she would work out on her own.

"Hmm…" he almost grunted, nodding his head up and down at a measured pace, as he waited for the awkwardness to pass. And once it did, he prodded gently, "Okay, so… how did this all happen?"

"I don't even know," she said, sounding almost bewildered. "I just… One day we were at each other's throats, and… the next thing I knew, I couldn't imagine my life without her," she shared, her tone taking on a dreamlike cadence. "We both fought it for a really long time," she admitted.

"How long?" he asked.

"I don't know…" she sighed softly, as if searching for an answer, "maybe since Gus—"

"Wow," he exhaled, "that is a really long time to fight something so strong, and so right," he said, his words giving credence to the depth of emotions he sensed within her.

She felt the prickling of tears again, and she sought to assuage them; but when she closed her eyes resolutely against them, their heat still burned under her eyelids like the lingering embers of a willful fire. "I am so… completely in love with her, Josh," she whispered, "and I'm so afraid I'm gonna fuck it all up." The emotion in that statement was palpable, almost raw.

"Now what makes you think you're gonna do that?" he asked casually; attempting to alleviate some of her tension.

"Have ya met me?" Olivia quipped; drawing a hearty laugh from him.

She laughed with him.

"Why, Yes, Olivia, I have, in fact, met you," he answered good-humoredly, "but… I choose to believe that you've evolved since Natalia came into your life."

Olivia pondered the notion. "You really think so?" Her tone was skeptical.

"I know so," he firmly declared; giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze. "I've seen it with my own eyes."

She pursed her lips and looked up at him, an admiring expression in her eyes. "Thank you," she said simply; but the true depth of her appreciation was evident in her tone.

"You're welcome," he replied; brushing his lips against her temple.

Bumping her shoulder against his chest, she asked lightheartedly, "Ya know you're my favorite ex-husband – don't ya?

"I've waited the better part of a decade to receive that distinction," he answered; drawing a laugh from her. "And just so ya know, you're my favorite ex-wife," he grinned.

Olivia arched an eyebrow at him. "Not Reva?" she said, pleased with the perception of winning something over her arch-nemesis.

"No… definitely not Reva," he replied; shaking his head back and forth. "She's my most frequent ex-wife," he sighed, sounding almost forlorn.

"Well, at least she's consistent," Olivia smirked; drawing a hearty laugh from him.

"Hey, do I get a plaque or somethin', y'know, for being your favorite ex-husband?"

"No—"

"Oh."

"But if we get a puppy, I'll name it after you," Olivia offered.

"Only if it's a boy," Josh bargained.

"Deal."

Their playful bantered continued, until Matt returned, and then the conversation turned toward the business of remodeling the Beacon. They chatted more about cost projections and estimated completion dates for each phase of the project; and then Olivia put a bug in Josh's ear about the renovations she wanted to have completed on a couple of properties she had acquired in Chicago. He expressed his genuine excitement for her in her attempt to expand the Beacon, and assured her that he would assign his most experienced workers to those projects; promising also, that he would be the one on supervisory duty as the renovations were completed.

Jen was thoroughly ensconced in the twisting plotline of the latest John Grisham novel, when half an hour later, Tracy stumbled into their bedroom. The closing of their bedroom door prompted Jen to glance up from her book; her eyes drinking in the essence of the woman she loved. Tracy looked haggard, but still strikingly beautiful, in her well-worn Springfield Seniors '03 t-shirt, and those faded jeans that molded so perfectly to her toned thighs and firm ass; her mop of dark curls tied back in a loose ponytail. But noting Tracy's obvious fatigue, she forced her overactive libido into submission, and offering her an empathic smile, she asked, "Are they down for the count?"

"Finally," Tracy exhaled heavily. Stripping off her jeans, she hopped on one foot, extricating the other from their snare, and tossed them into the chair with Jen's, before crawling into the haven of pillows and cool sheets on their bed.

The sheets rustled, as she slid over, curling up against Jen's side, her legs tucked up underneath her. "They're exhausted, and they're gonna be absolute bears in the morning, but they still insisted that I continue our story," she reported, referring to the ongoing tale of pirates, treasure, murder, and mayhem on the high seas that she had been spinning for them over the last several months.

She was a master at storytelling, and the boys were always enthralled in the intricate plots that she weaved, at their invitation. Unbeknownst to Jen, the hero of her stories, no matter what the context or genre, was always a strong, dashing young man named Jake; because Tracy believed more than anything, that their boys needed their Daddy to remain a hero to them, even if only through their imaginations and in their dreams.

She tucked her right arm beneath Jen's, lazily stretching it across a taut abdomen, as she nuzzled into Jen's neck, kissing her softly, before laying her head on the other woman's shoulder.

Jen turned her head, brushing her lips against Tracy's forehead. "I still think you should write these stories down, Babe. They would make a great children's series," she encouraged, for probably the hundredth time. "I'm tellin' ya, you could be the next J. K. Rowling."

"Eh, maybe someday," Tracy replied, already dismissing the idea as implausible. She had far too many other irons in the fire, and couldn't fathom taking on another project; especially one of such magnitude. "Right now, I'd rather focus on our family, and getting through school."

Nodding her head and smiling, Jen said, "Speaking of school, I know your finance paper is due in a couple of weeks, so thanks for taking time away to help me out at work." Her voice was filled with appreciation. "That error really has me baffled," she sighed.

"It's no problem, Cara. I was glad to help. I'm just sorry we couldn't figure it out," Tracy empathized. "I'm sure you'll find it tomorrow. Fresh eyes, ya know?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jen agreed passively, turning the page in her book. "Are you gonna work on your research tonight?" she asked.

"Nope… I think I've strained my brain enough for one day," Tracy declared with a sigh. "That third and fourth grade homework nearly killed me," she grinned; drawing a soft chuckle from Jen.

"Those vocab words really did a number on ya, did they?" Jen teased.

"You have no idea," Tracy mumbled. Stifling a blush as she recalled her feral reaction to some of those words, she purposely diverted the conversation back to her finance paper. "I'll put in some time on my research tomorrow night, after my game," she said, referring to her weekly basketball game with a group of her college girlfriends.

"Sounds like a plan," Jen declared; brushing her lips against Tracy's brow again.

Marking her page, Jen set her book down in her lap, and released a quiet sigh, as she rested her head against Tracy's. "You were amazing with the boys tonight," she said softly. "Thank you for that."

Tracy reached over with her left hand, intertwining her fingers with Jen's. "You don't ever have to thank me for loving our children," she quietly replied.

"Sometimes it just astounds me, how much you love them," Jen whispered.

Glancing up, Tracy caught Jen's eyes, searching deeply. "It's the easiest love I've ever known," she confessed. "Loving them… loving you…" she whispered, tunneling the fingers of her right hand into the short blonde locks that teased at the back of Jen's neck, pulling her into a slow kiss.

When they were finally able to part, Jen snuggled up against Tracy, enjoying the closeness of her, as she slowly breathed her in. She was a very lucky woman, and she damned well knew it.

Natalia returned to Watershed to find Olivia lounging casually against Josh in the booth, with Matt sitting across the table from the two of them. The familiarity between Olivia and Josh caught her off guard, and her pulse began to race, as her mind sought explanation as to how this configuration had come into being.

Rapidly, her mind thumbed through a thousand scenarios; not one of them did she like, and Olivia's current demeanor was doing nothing to assuage the sense of unease. She was laughing at something Josh had said, as she sipped on another glass of wine. Natalia assumed the bottle to be empty now; but at least Olivia wasn't drinking another glass of bourbon. She was thankful for that small miracle.

Glancing up, jade eyes met mahogany, sparkling, as Olivia welcomed her back. The expression on Natalia's face caught her attention. "Is everything alright, Sweetheart?" she asked, concerned.

The endearment rolled from Olivia's tongue like honey, and Natalia savored the sweetness. Telling herself she was being ridiculous, she drew in a deep breath, steadying herself, as she attempted to shake off the feeling of ill-ease. Then, smiling warmly at them, she slid into the booth next to Matt, as she quickly reassured Olivia that Emma was fine; promising to fill her in later. It wasn't exactly an answer to Olivia's question—she knew the inquiry was about more than Emma. But it also wasn't a lie; and for now, it was the only answer she was prepared to give.

Olivia thanked her, warming her from the inside out with that captivating smile, and Natalia's discomfort eased another notch. It amazed Natalia how this woman could still her with nothing more than the expression in her eyes or the smile on her face.

They continued the discussion in progress, chattering on about construction details in terms that might as well have been uttered in Greek so far as Natalia was concerned, because they made no sense to her. As she listened to them, the desire to understand yet another facet of Olivia's world came over her like a wave, much as it had with the hotel business, wine tasting, and so many other things. She was eager to learn and grow. Olivia had sparked that thirst for knowledge within her, as she challenged her to broaden her horizons; and now there was nothing standing in her way. And with that sense of determination, she vowed to learn all she could about the subject of construction as their project moved forward.

When the construction conversation finally wound down, they split off into other topics; Matt attempting to engage Natalia with his latest ecology yarn, as Olivia launched her bid for the Lewis jet.

Reaching across Josh, she grasped the bottle of bourbon; but he quickly halted her, "Ah, ah, ah," he cautioned, wagging a finger at her, "You promised Natalia only one," he bantered. "And so far, you've been a good girl."

Despite Josh's flirty intonation, Natalia was more than pleased to hear that.

"Ohhh, Mr. Lewis," Olivia sighed; shaking her head in mock exasperation.

"So now I'm just Mister Lewis? What, no more reverence toward my standing as a spiritual leader?" he teased. "How swiftly the mighty have fallen…" he sighed; feigning disillusionment.

Olivia laughed animatedly. "Well, as a Reverend, I don't think you're allowed to partake of this bourbon, and I was planning to pour you another drink," she said innocently, as she reached for his glass. She paused for a moment, ostensibly lost in thought; and then sighed. "Perhaps you should've become a Priest," she suggested, "Then you could partake of all the bourbon you pleased," she smirked; earning her a disapproving scowl from Natalia, which only made her laugh again; this time, even harder. Comfort breeds carelessness, the internal alarm repeated. She smacked the snooze button with deliberate intent.

"Ahh… but if I were a Priest, then flirting with beautiful women would be forbidden," Josh bantered, offering Olivia an engaging smile.

Natalia rolled her eyes and sighed, turning her attention back to Matt, who was prattling on about the benefits of solar energy; as Olivia continued her seemingly innocuous banter with Josh. It wasn't that Natalia didn't believe in solar energy or in conserving vital environmental resources. It was more that she was annoyed by not being able to focus wholly on the goings-on between Olivia and Josh. Their behavior, especially Olivia's, bugged her more than she cared to admit.

Olivia poured more of the intoxicating amber liquid into his glass, and handed it to him, "Here's to you forgetting all about the Priesthood," she said, arching a deliberate eyebrow.

Taking the glass from her hand, Josh gave her a roguish grin. "I'll drink to that," he said smoothly, lifting the glass to his lips.

Flirting was an art form for Olivia Spencer; one in which she often didn't even realize she was engaging. Much like tonight. Her flirtatious banter with him had not been deliberate. It was merely what came naturally to her. It was nothing like it had been in the past, when it had been deliberate, because she was no longer looking for a pleasurable hook up. And it was certainly nothing like it had been in recent times, because she was no longer seeking to affirm her sexuality through the capturing of his attention; making him want her. Now it was simply a means to an end—a fun way to dally with him, and walk away with the prized Lewis jet. And with that goal in mind, Olivia set her course, doing what came naturally to her—she turned on that Spencer charm.

"Sooo… as long as we're both here, I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you…" Olivia said casually; offering him a wily grin, as her fingers toyed with the half-empty bottle of bourbon.

His eyebrows shifted upward, as he turned his head to look at her. "Ahh…" he exhaled, the light bulb coming on, "so there's a reason you've been trying to get me all liquored up, eh?" he teased; humor dancing in his eyes.

"Now… would I do a thing like that to you?" Olivia countered. Her feigned innocence was a complete incongruence to the low, sultry tone of her voice. Comfort breeds carelessness, her subconscious reminded more insistently. She mentally cast it aside, and continued her banter with Josh.

He laughed; wondering why the batting eyelashes hadn't made their appearance. But he knew she was far too smooth for that. "I wouldn't put anything past you, Olivia Spencer," he said forthrightly.

Olivia shook her head back and forth; a piteous expression on her face. "Mmm… now that's a real shame, Mr. Lewis. Just think of all the fun we could have it you tried," she bantered. Comfort breeds carelessness, her subconscious harangued with greater intensity. She told her subconscious to shut the fuck up. She didn't know why the hell it was carrying on in such a way.

"You… are so… Bad!" Josh declared; amusement dancing in his eyes.

Olivia smirked. "Ohhh, but I'm so damned good at it!" she volleyed, without missing a single beat.

Though trapped in some prosaic conversation with Matt about global warming, and how he was single-handedly saving Springfield from impending doom by riding his bicycle across God's great creation—even in the dead of winter, with a foot of snow on the ground—the flirtatious current that passed between Olivia and Josh had not been lost on Natalia. In fact, it rather screamed at her. As she watched Olivia bantering with him, she felt the familiar pangs of jealousy and insecurity rise within her like venomous bile; reminding her of the way she felt watching Olivia work her wiles on Gus so long ago. The emotions made her feel uneasy, and she attempted to tamp them down with reason. You're being ridiculous, Natalia. She loves you; wants you, like she's never wanted anyone before—not even Josh, she reminded herself. She said so, and she would never lie to you…

But no matter how hard she tried to assuage those nagging feelings, they just kept nipping at her; eating away at her sense of security like a slow-moving virus, as she sat there watching them. Simmering…

Josh tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting, as he shrugged his shoulders. "You do have a point," he readily conceded. He leaned toward her, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, as his eyes perused her face. "So what can I do for you… Olivia?" he asked. His voice was low, his cadence measured, as he painted on a thick layer of his good 'ole boy charm.

Leaning toward him, Olivia mirrored his pose; matching his timbre and cadence, in an almost seductive manner. "Well, Mr. Lewis… Emma and I wanna take Natalia to Martha's Vineyard for spring break," she announced, "and we were hoping to score the Lewis jet…"

"Hmm…" he exhaled, slowly bobbing his head up and down. "Two gorgeous, hopefully bikini-clad women on the beach?" he said, dragging the moment out by feigning serious contemplation of her request.

"Four gorgeous women, actually," Olivia corrected, arching a deliberate eyebrow. She left out the fact that they would more likely be wearing sweat suits than bikinis, given the time of year. After all, that would only serve to dampen his male sensibilities.

Josh's eyebrow mirrored hers, "Oh, really?" he responded, his curiosity piqued. "Anyone I know?"

"We're meeting my friend Lena and her wife Bianca at their cottage," she said, by way of explanation.

He nodded his head, as he processed the information. "Sounds… delightful," he declared; grinning mischievously. "Mind if I join?"

"You can ride shotgun," she promptly decreed.

"Well, then the jet is yours…" he quickly granted, "as long as Natalia spends the entire flight in your lap…" he bartered; a roguish grin on his face.

The comment caught Natalia completely off guard, and she shot Olivia an inquisitive look.

Olivia threw a victorious hand into the air. "Done," she resolutely declared; winking at Natalia, sealing the deal with the pounding of her fist on the table, as a self-satisfied smirk splayed across her lips.

Josh laughed heartily, clearly amused with her, as he jostled her with his arm. "Seriously, you know the jet is yours whenever you need it," he said sincerely. "Shoot me an e-mail with your travel dates, and I'll have my pilot on standby."

Natalia breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that their banter seemed to be coming to an end. She shook her head disbelievingly, and turned her attention back to Matt's insipid droning.

"Thanks," Olivia said casually, nudging him with her shoulder. "I take it you won't actually be joining us?" she asked; pouting.

"As enticing as the idea may be, Reva would kick my ass if I even considered taking a trip with you," he grinned.

"Surely, she doesn't still find me a threat," Olivia contended, with a playful roll of her eyes.

Leaning on his elbow, he cupped his chin in his hand, as he met her eyes. "You, my Darlin'," he said, his measured cadence making his voice drip like honey, "will be a threat to Reva until the end of eternity…"

"Wow—," Olivia exhaled slowly, "that's a really long time," she observed; matching the low, leisurely cadence of his voice by drawing out the utterances. "What do you suppose her problem is?" she asked facetiously; a knowing grin splaying across those seductive lips. Comfort breeds careles—Fuck! The expression on Natalia's face was unmistakable.

After Olivia's brazen flirtation with him in the conference room that morning, followed by a solid evening of listening to the two of them carrying on, Natalia reached her breaking point, and finally lost her temper. "Seriously, Olivia," she snapped; slamming her fist against the table, as she glared angrily at the hotelier, "hasn't this little game of yours gone on long enough?"

Startled by the outburst, Josh and Matt jumped back, both of them falling silent, as Olivia's head snapped up, her eyes meeting the steely black coal of Natalia's. Those coals ignited into a firestorm of flashing anger; and every inch of Olivia's skin immediately prickled with gooseflesh, as her heart pounded anxiously in her chest.

Natalia's respirations were short and rapid, as beads of sweat congregated on her forehead. Her entire body engulfed in tremors, she pressed her hands firmly against the table, steadying herself against them. Again, she attempted to reassure herself, repeating her recent inner monologue: You're being ridiculous, Natalia. She Loves YOU; Wants YOU, like she's never wanted Anyone before—not even Josh… NOT EVEN JOSH, she repeated over and over in her head, almost like a mantra, as the moments ticked by. She said so, and she would never lie to you…

But this time, it just wasn't working; her thoughts raced, and sweat oozed from her pores, as the tremors intensified.

In all the time she had known her… with everything she had done to her… Olivia had never seen Natalia's eyes flash with such unbridled fury. And the worst part of it was that it wasn't so much what she had said, but rather, the icy expression slicing through the firestorm that raged within those characteristically warm eyes, that stopped Olivia dead in her tracks.

Fire and Ice—the ultimate paradox. It was powerful enough to rock Olivia Spencer to the very core of her being.

Words are only painted fire; a look is fire itself, her mind rambled, channeling the words of Mark Twain. Shit. She fucked up. And she damned well knew it. The problem was, she wasn't quite certain exactly how. But what she was certain of was that her acute lack of awareness would be a major sticking point with Natalia. Suddenly, she felt like that clueless husband in Steel Magnolias, who didn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt. Were she not so completely terrified in this very moment, she might have actually found the analogy amusing; but that was clearly not the case, and she prepared herself for the impending fallout.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Natalia abruptly cut her off. "Don't," she commanded, an icy warning in her tone, as she stood up from the table; leaning against it for support.

Bewildered, Olivia just stared at her.

Then, embarrassed by her public outburst, Natalia drew in a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. And exhaling slowly, she turned, and walked away; leaving Olivia to stare blindly after her.

Several seconds ticked by, and finally, Josh nudged her. "Olivia—," he said, attempting to prod her from the anesthetized state she was in.

Snapping back to reality, she turned toward him. "Told you I'd fuck it up," she said despondently, as she swiftly rose from the table. And calling out to Natalia with a mixture of fear and apology in her tone, she chased after her.

Matt glanced at Josh, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Well, that was weird," he declared; completely oblivious to the reality of what had just happened.

Josh rolled his eyes; unable to believe the level of obliviousness Matt could achieve. "It was curious, anyway," he sighed; choosing not to burden himself with having to explain the situation.

You certainly have your hands full, Olivia, he thought; shaking his head, as he wondered how the hotelier was faring in her quest to calm her fiery assistant-turned-would-be-lover.

And as Olivia pursued an infuriated, quick-paced Natalia from Watershed, through the Beacon lobby, out the revolving front door, and onto the covered drive, she realized that she had jumped out of the frying pan by confessing her relationship with Natalia to Josh, and right into the fire, a blazing inferno, more to the point, fucking that relationship up before it even began.

And in her mind all she could hear was the resounding warning: Comfort breeds carelessness…

Why the fuck hadn't she listened.

TBC…