A/n: I'm working on a genealogy project for my dad for Christmas and it's pretty time consuming; I've been averaging one update a week, so that might be hard to stick with until the holidays are over. I've been feeling that we're nearing the end of Lester and Giana's story, anyway, so this will give me plenty of time to give it my best efforts and make it great (...well, as great as I can, anyway). Thanks again, Elaine!
Lester came awake by degrees; first, he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was cramped and his right arm asleep. Then it was awareness that the sun must be up already (a rarity in his world) because he could see the light glowing through his closed lids. It was when a warm body shifted against him, however, that the night before came rushing back.
Giana. Their talk. The hours of cuddling and whispered pledges and oaths of love came rushing back, warming him from the inside, out. Around 3am, they'd fallen into the twin bed in Bobby's spare room. There wasn't an inch of mattress to spare, a fact that they were both glad for – it allowed no space between them and that suited them both just fine.
Les opened his eyes, careful to keep perfectly still so as not to wake the sleeping woman in his arms and gazed at her. She looks like an angel, he thought, taking in her pretty pink mouth and the way her eyelashes grazed her cheekbones in her sleep. Her hair, always disorderly, was fanned out beneath her head and oh, she stole his breath away. He drank her in and marveled at the fact that she was his again; Despair's most sublime target is a broken heart, and he offered up a prayer of thanks that he was spared by her.
Upon closer inspection, he found himself less content. There were circles beneath her eyes, and her hair was lank and duller than he remembered. That familiar ache in his chest flared bright, reminding him that he was the reason Giana was a washed-out version of herself.
Never again, he promised himself while his teeth clenched together and bit back his disgust. Never, ever again. And while Gia slept peacefully in his arms, Lester planned – he outlined a dozen ploys to make her smile and a dozen more to keep her happy. As dedicated to her as he'd been before, he planned to commit himself totally to making sure she always felt secure and cherished in the life he had planned for them.
She woke, slowly like he'd done. Her eyelashes fluttered, delicately kissing her cheekbones in a way that was so innocent it made Lester want to weep at the beauty of it. She stretched slowly, yawned, then flipped over and buried her face in Lester's chest with a shy smile.
"'Morning," she mumbled against his shirt, squeezing him around his waist. He answered her with a kiss placed atop her head and returned her squeeze gratefully.
"Coffee? I was hoping maybe we could talk a little." He really, really didn't want to push his luck with her, but he knew the fragile accord they'd reached last night wasn't enough to build a life together on…and a lifetime of Giana was all he would settle for.
She nodded against his chest, still pressed tightly to him and made no move to untangle herself. Lester chuckled, smoothing her hair back from her face with his left hand as his right lovingly stroked her back. After a few beats, Giana broke the silence.
"I missed this," she said on a sigh, increasing the pressure of her hold on his waist.
Lester fought to tamp down the barely concealed guilt that rushed to the surface, reminding him that she missed a man that was absent because of how badly he'd hurt her. He struggled for a moment, doing his utmost to get his voice under control before he spoke; it wouldn't do at all for Gia to hear it crack.
Somehow, though, she knew. She always knew. She raised her head and lifted her eyes to his, studying them for only a moment before her gaze softened in understanding.
"Coffee." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for debate. She sat upright and swung her legs around and onto the floor, rising gracefully before turning and offering Lester her hand. She helped pull him from his cramped position on the tiny twin bed until he was upright as well before releasing his hand and making her way into the kitchen.
After hitting the bathroom, Les joined her in Bobby's small kitchen and retrieved two mugs, setting them in front of the coffee maker as it spat and hissed to life. While Gia took her turn in the bathroom, Les doctored her coffee up the way she liked it and carried them out of the kitchen, hesitating briefly when he reached the doorway – kitchen table or couch? The couch was maybe too intimate, but the table seemed clinical, like they'd be discussing a business transaction.
Couch it is, he thought while sternly reminding himself that the conversation, while uncomfortable, was necessary.
Gia entered just then, smiling in gratitude when he handed her her mug and made the decision for him when she started toward the couch. She settled against one arm, tucking a leg beneath her as she turned her body to face the opposite end. Lester could take a hint, and so he folded his tall frame down onto the cushion and turned to face her. He wrapped his hands around his mug and cleared his throat, interrupting whatever she'd been about to say.
"Can I start?" he asked, his voice quiet with shame. When she nodded without speaking, Lester took a breath and began.
"I'm sorry. It's so inadequate, and I could sit here and throw a bunch of adjectives at you to tell you just how sorry I am but it would be a waste of your time. I fucked up, badly, and I hurt you; I never, ever wanted to make you anything but happy, Gia. I'll spend the whole rest of my life regretting what I did and trying to make it up to you, if you'll let me. I will do anything, whatever you say, to try and make this right again. I love you and I want you to love me like you used to, and then I want to marry you and never let a single day go by again where I don't make you as happy as you make me." Finished, he waited with shoulders tensed for her verdict. She said last night that she wanted them to move forward together, but that could entail a lot of different variables. His life's happiness was, quite literally, in her hands.
She was moved by his speech, that much was obvious. Tears sat unshed in her eyes, and one shaky hand was pressed against her chest in an effort to stem the emotion welling there. It would be easy – so easy – to crawl onto his lap and kiss him and grant him the peace she wanted for him. It was tempting, too; they'd always connected so deeply when they were intimate, and the fact that her resolve was all that kept her from making that connection with him nearly dissolved her willpower.
In the end, she closed her eyes and took a moment to breath through her confliction. She opened them, determined to begin as she'd intended when she was struck by the look on Lester's face. He looked like he was waiting on her to hand a verdict down to him, all pensive and fearful, and that blew her determination to dust.
Hastily and barely mindful of the hot mug in her hands, she slid across the couch and into his waiting arms. He enveloped her smoothly, seamlessly, and she was again reminded of how perfect she'd always thought they were together.
She stroked his hair and clucked sweetly about him, patting his shoulders and kissing the back of his head as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder and quivered, ever so slightly.
It slayed her. He slayed her; this man she loved was laying himself bare at her feet and was so sure and so afraid she would reject him. It all but destroyed any chance at the factual, clinical conversation she'd intended to have with him. She thought (wrongly, she could see that now) that keeping emotions out of their discussion would make things easier on the both of them. Looking at Lester practically begging for her love…it was impossible not to be moved by him.
"Shhh, shhh," she whispered, kissing and petting him with loving hands. When he didn't voluntarily raise his head, Giana felt a great surge of love crest over every defense she had; it reminded her that as much as she hurt, he hurt, too. And it spurred her to cup his face between her palms and raise his face to hers.
Slowly, with painstaking care, Giana lowered her face toward Lester's. His lips pouted adorably between her hands and his breathing became rapid and shallow as she closed the distance between them. She brushed her lips against his once, twice, and on her third pass she pressed her mouth against his, closed her eyes, and lost herself in him.
Too long. It had been too long since they'd shared this. Lester fought, with every ounce of restraint he possessed, to go slow and not devour her like he longed to. The last time he'd kissed Giana was the night before he left for that fucking mission, the one that precipitated all of this. More than one hundred days had gone without having tasted her, without having swallowed the soft sighs Giana always gave him, and that was just unacceptable. He could not, for the life of him, fathom living another day where he wasn't granted this beautiful, wonderful distraction.
All too soon Gia broke the seal their lips made, pulling back and moving to smooth her shirt down. Lester was very pleased to see her struggling to take even breaths, and equally displeased that he was being denied the opportunity to kiss her. Never, ever, ever again, he vowed grimly.
"We really do need to talk," she reminded him gently as she slid off his lap and onto the couch. He wanted to protest the loss, but admitted a grudging victory when she at least sat close enough that their knees touched. It was better than being at opposite ends of the couch, and he'd take his victories where he could get them.
When he nodded and squeezed her knee, she began.
"I would like for you to consider seeing a counselor," she began. Gia watched his face, carefully gauging his reaction to her words. Lester's blank face, the one Stephanie had described in vivid detail, slammed down and he took a long, careful sip of his coffee. His stony features gave nothing away as he bought himself a bit of time, quickly considering rebuttals. In the end, he sighed to himself – she held all the cards in this conversation and he knew any refusals might well cost him Giana.
"Whatever it takes to make you happy, I will do," he finally said, forcing a smile at her. He meant it, most ardently – anything her mind could dream up, he would agree with if it meant he got her in the end.
With a huff and a roll of her eyes, Gia flipped her hair over her shoulder. "That's it? That's all I get?" she asked, taking Lester by surprise. Her voice lacked any real anger or indignation, so Les took a moment to examine the 'why' behind her reaction. When that didn't work, he decided to go for frankness.
"I don't like counselors. I don't enjoy dissecting my feelings on every topic that pops into their minds. I've done it before to decompress after a mission and it's never something I've welcomed. That being said, I will do anything, whatever it takes, to make this work, Gia. I will go to however many sessions for however long you think I need to if it means you'll be waiting for me when I leave that office."
Her posture deflated a bit and she smirked. "Geez, when you put it like that, I can't really berate you properly, Santos." She rubbed the back of her neck and closed her eyes, both indications that she was about to unleash something…and while Lester didn't relish the thought of a lecture, he did really love that he could still read her so well.
"So here's the thing, Les – all that stuff you want? I want it, too. I want us to love each other the way we did before all this shit got heaped on top of us." He winced, again reminded of his starring role in their predicament, and Giana didn't miss it. She patted his leg, soothing him before continuing. "I want to build a life together, and I don't want to ever have to worry about doing or saying something that's going to trigger some kind of reaction in you that makes you think I'm anything less than one hundred and ten percent committed to you, because I'll be honest…I don't think I've got it in me to go through this a second time."
When Les opened his mouth, either to protest or reassure her, she cut him off. "I know that you have no intention of this happening again, but you didn't intend for it to happen the first time, either. I want to move past this, I want to love you and trust you explicitly, but I'm going to need some help getting there. We have a goal, we have the want and the will, but I really think we need some help with the execution. And that is why," she straightened her posture, "I would like to offer to see a counselor, too."
She took in his shocked look with a smile. "This is going to be our new normal, pal. We are going to learn to rely on each other and to believe in each other. We are going to tackle this problem head on, together, because it affects Us. The Royal We. If one of 'We' have a problem, both of 'We' have to find the solution." Les smiled timidly, her attempt at humor an obvious ploy to draw him back into the conversation and out of the shame he was tempted to wallow in.
Satisfied, she continued, albeit delicately. "I think if we'd been stronger, if we had addressed the issues you had that stem from your mom and from Michelle, we might have avoided this. I thought that if I loved you enough, and if I showed you that a relationship without lies was a real option for you, that it would be enough. I was wrong, and I take responsibility for that." Again, she waved him off when he started to protest. "It was your bad judgment that got us here, yes, but I made it far too easy for you to revert back to being self-destructive and using casual sex as a band-aid." Here, Gia had to pause and swallow, hard, before she could finish.
"I want us to be strong, Lester. I need for this to work. I don't know how to accomplish building you up so that you believe me when I tell you that I love you, because I'm not sure you do."
Here, finally, he gave voice to his protest. "You're crazy if you think I don't believe that, Giana," he growled, his own self-loathing evidenced by his fists clenching at his thighs. "I ruined us – by rights, you should never talk to me again – and you're willing to try and fix us. That is the epitome of love. I know you love me."
Slowly, carefully, she nodded after a long moment's silence. "Maybe you have an inkling, now," she conceded before continuing. "But look what it's taken to get us here, Les. There is a better way to make us stronger, I'm sure of it, but neither of us can figure it out. Please, please, go into this with me, alongside me, and not just because I'm telling you to do it."
He looked into her beautiful violet eyes, silently pleading with him. She needed this as much as he needed her, so really, what could he do but agree.
"All right. I'll go, and I'll go because I want us strong enough to last forever, because forever is what I want with you."
That very same week, Lester found himself in a waiting room, nervously jiggling his foot while he waited to get in and see the counselor Bobby recommended. Giana sat to his right, serene and breathtakingly beautiful as she stroked the back of the hand that rested on her knee.
Bobby had been absolutely floored when Les had gone to him the same day he'd talked with Gia and asked for a referral. Bobby had himself suggested that Les see someone on more than one occasion and Lester had always blown the suggestion off. After he recovered from the initial shock, Bobby pulled out a card for Tara Weeks, certified counselor.
"Wouldn't, I dunno, a psychiatrist be better?" Les had mumbled, completely out of his element and clearly uncomfortable. Bobby was shaking his head in the negative before Lester even finished, and answered, "Nah, trust me on this. Tara's cool, you'll like her. Doesn't take herself too seriously, she's easy to talk to and she cuts through the bullshit. She's a straight shooter, I think she'll work well with you."
When Lester went to Giana that evening and told her he'd made an initial appointment already, her eyes had sparkled and the gratitude in her smile was enough to make him concede that, if nothing else, the fact alone that his appointment made her happy was worth it.
Gia'd stayed at RangeMan for two additional nights following the break in at her place and spent both in Bobby's spare room with Lester curled around her. They both slept better than they had in months, despite their cramped quarters, and they were quickly regaining the comfortable, easy way they'd always interacted together. Les was due some time off, anyway, and they spent their days alternating between gym time and cuddling on Bobby's couch watching reruns on Netflix.
The only thing missing was any sign of the physical chemistry they'd always shared, but Les had to remind himself that he'd done a helluva lot to put her off him in any sexual capacity, and so he didn't push and didn't initiate anything more than a hug or holding her hand. He was hoping, secretly, that this counseling session might give him some insight into how to eventually remedy that…how could he possibly try and initiate sex when it would surely remind Giana that the last person he'd slept with wasn't her?
As the minutes ticked by and his appointment drew closer, he found himself raising his hand to his mouth to chew his fingernails, something he hadn't done since childhood. Just as quickly, Gia took his hand in hers and placed it back on his lap, pressing a kiss to his knuckles that made his heart ache. "It'll be fine," she whispered just as the receptionist called his name.
Lester stood and was only mildly surprised to see her stand as well. "You're going in with me?" he asked, placing a hand on her lower back and guiding her across the office.
"I am. Just for a few minutes, I'd like to say hello and make sure she knows the goal we're working toward. I love you, Santos, but loquacious you are not."
They stepped through the door and surveyed the office, both sets of eyes stopping on the woman leaning against her desk, smiling in welcome. Tara Weeks was surprisingly short, barely hitting 5'2" in height with a shiny, sleek silver bob framing a pleasant-looking face. The quick background check Les had pulled on her put her age at 54, and the ten or so extra pounds she carried around her waist and hips gave her a plump, pleasing figure.
After introductions were made, Tara (as she asked to be called) invited the couple to have a seat on the sofa so they could 'chat'.
"Now, I have only your name, Lester, in my appointment book. Would you care to tell me why Giana is joining us today?" Her voice, while pleasant, was direct and strong, and her sharp eyes darted back and forth between the pair. She won't miss a beat, that one, thought Les wryly as he struggled to find an easy way to explain their situation.
It was Gia who came to his rescue. "I invited myself along; I hope that's okay?" When Tara smiled and made an encouraging gesture, Giana continued. "Les and I both want the same things, but he's…less forthcoming, I guess, and I wanted to be sure we were all on the same page in terms of what our goal is. I've made an appointment for next week to speak with you, but I wanted to get off on the right foot from the start, so to speak."
"That's good," Tara commented, shifting her weight and her gaze toward a silent Lester. "A lot of couples don't realize how important supporting one another's goals is. The fact that you're making a united front from the beginning is a great way to kick this off. Can you tell me a little about your relationship?"
With that, Gia was off. She talked about their initial meeting, Lester's interest in her and the reasons behind his hesitation in acting on it, ending with the dynamic of their relationship up until Lester's mission.
"And then?" Tara prompted.
Lester recognized what Giana had been doing; she was, in essence, trying to take the burden off of him by telling their story to the doctor…counselor…whatever. The entire time she spoke, the affection and love she had for him was blindingly obvious. It gutted him to think that he'd ever, even for a second, lost sight of that. Even now, she was doing her utmost to drag them back from the abyss and save them; it was almost too beautiful to bear. Clearing his throat, Les leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. He picked a spot on the carpet and readied himself to speak; Gia shouldn't have to retell this part. It was the least he could do.
Haltingly, his voice thick with contrition, Lester relayed the rest of their story. He spoke in the vaguest terms when describing what had happened with the women, hoping to spare Gia's feelings, before moving on to their separation and her eventual forgiveness.
Tara smiled and thanked him, then kindly asked Giana if she wouldn't mind stepping outside for the final ten minutes of Lester's session. Gia thanked her for her time and, after giving Les a reassuring squeeze, walked out to the waiting room and shut the door behind her.
Tara's smile remained intact, and if Les wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of apology in it. Shit, that can't be good, he thought just before she spoke.
"You talked so freely about the events leading up to your affair," she began, steepling her fingers against her breast, "and when it came time to speak of the actual affair, you clammed up. You also became noticeably tense when Giana brought up your mother and your ex-girlfriend. You're a soldier, I know you've had mandatory sessions with a shrink before so you've got some experience with the field; I'm sure someone, at some point, has thrown out the term 'abandonment issue'." She said it so casually, like they were discussing who Rothschild called to pitch at the last Yankees game. Lester nodded, a bit dazed by her forward manner; he had, in fact, heard that term from the last two doctors who'd made an attempt to shrink him. He hadn't argued with them; in fact, it seemed entirely plausible to him that he would have issues with abandonment. He'd assumed that was his lot in life and never made a follow-up appointment with them.
"Well, here's the thing about unresolved issues like yours – they're like herpes. They're painful, they crop up at the most inopportune times, and they never really go away." Les laughed, as much at her brash manner of speaking as the comparison itself.
"Never?" he asked, shooting for casual and failing miserably.
"Never." Tara didn't try and paint a pretty picture, nor did she try and talk circles around him with complicated diagnostician jargon. She did, however, smile kindly at him as she continued speaking. "Being abandoned by a parent is one of the hardest things to try and overcome; the fact that the second significant woman in your life did the same really compounds this deep-rooted issue you have: you were abandoned by two people who were supposed to love you, ergo, you must have a deficiency. I'm assuming you had a casual sexual lifestyle before Giana?"
Numbed by the influx of information she was spouting, he nodded.
Tara returned his nod, a knowing frown on her face. "It's common for adults with these fears, Lester. It doesn't make you a bad person, it just makes you a person who adopted the wrong coping methods to deal with an early trauma. You'll likely have these fears in some capacity the rest of your life. What you and I will do is learn to recognize them when they pop up and manage them more effectively." She paused, rightly sensing his disappointment at being told he would likely always feel insecure, and stood to change her seat.
She settled on the sofa next to Lester and smiled, the compassion on her face evident. "It sounds like bullshit, I know – 'it'll never end? You mean you can't fix me?'" Tara's voice dropped an octave in a poor attempt to imitate Lester's, bringing a faint smile to his face. She shrugged and said, "Those are the breaks, kid. You play the hand you're dealt; that's life. But I can teach you how to manage it. I can show you a way to live with it and handle it so that it won't rule you and it won't force you to make poor decisions."
She changed tact, dropping her pleasant expression and adopting a more serious look. "That woman loves you, you know."
Les dropped his eyes to his lap and nodded, wordlessly. God only knew why, but she did.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Lester. You fucked up and you two are working it out; that's something to be commended. A lot of men would throw pretty words, maybe a few sparkly baubles at the problem and call it a day; what they don't realize is that if they don't root out the poison, it'll come back and suffocate what they hold most dear. That girl walked in here and took over your appointment, told your story, just to spare you the discomfort. She spun a tale about making sure we were all of an accord before we started, but she could've done that next week at her own appointment. She loves you enough that she can't bear for you to suffer through this alone, and you love her enough to come to counseling even though it's clear you'd gladly dry-hump a cactus to get out of it." They shared a brief smile before Lester did something he'd never done in a counseling session before – he willingly offered his counselor a nugget of truth.
"I want to marry her. I want to be the best man I can, because that's what Giana deserves. So whatever you've got to teach me, I'm ready to learn it." The longer he spoke, the more convicted he felt – he could do this. He would do this, for Gia. He owed her his very best and by damn, that's what she'd get.
Tara clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! Schedule an appointment for next week with my secretary. If you don't, or if you miss a session, I'm calling that little redhead and tattling on you. I have no loyalties and I'll rat you out in a second if you're slacking."
With a nod, he thanked her and shook her hand before exiting her office.
The drive home was quiet, though not uncomfortable. Lester drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on Giana's lap, both of her hands curled around his. His thoughts lingered on his session and on Tara's promise to help him learn to deal with his abandonment issues.
Abandonment issues. I was abandoned. He tested out the phrase in his head, tasting the bitter resentment creep into his conscious the same way it did any time he thought of Juana and her absence in his childhood. The fact was, he hated her for leaving him and he hated equally the small but insistent part of him that wished she would try and make it right.
Sighing, he did what he always did when thoughts of his mother threatened to overtake him – he turned his attention to something else. They were pulling up outside Gia's house now, and he shifted focus to clearing her home before allowing her inside it. They'd found Reuben, and the partner, but the fact was that he could've talked to any number of wannabe criminals who might try and target her house. Unlikely, since Ranger had spent the better part of the past two days spreading the word that he would personally be dealing with anyone who tried, but still…didn't hurt to be extra cautious where Giana was concerned.
After Lester cleared her house, Gia asked if he wanted to stick around and have dinner with her. That perked him back up – Giana requesting that he stay and spend time with her was all he needed to banish his dark thoughts.
After dinner, she pulled out an old board game and shook it at him, teasing a smile from him. "'Boggle'? What the hell is that?" he asked.
Gia's mouth gaped open in mock disgust. "You've never played 'Boggle'!? Oh ho, prepare to have your ass handed to you, my friend! Sit!" After she quickly ran through the rules, she rattled the lettered dice around in the little box and flipped the timer around.
They played for an hour, and Lester reflected, between games, that wholesome fun had never really been an interest to him…until Gia. The hour spent with her, playing a subpar board game was precious, and treasured because he was in her house again, in her presence again, watching her smile at him. It was something he would never take for granted.
As the evening wound down, he reluctantly started making the appropriate noises about leaving and heading back to RangeMan. It wasn't his first choice (or even his second or third), but he wasn't ready to push for an invitation to stay. If he put her in that position and she turned him away…it was a thought he pushed out of his mind, not liking the sense of foreboding that came with it.
Just as Les wrapped her in a hug with a whispered, "Sleep sweet," Gia pulled back and said, simply, "Stay." Lester nodded, not bothering to hide his wide, pleased smile from her as he walked around her living room, switching off the lights and double checking her locks and alarm. They made their way down the hallway toward the bedrooms, and Les pulled up short next to her guest room.
"It's probably best I stay here," he murmured, trying to tamp down the hope that she would insist he share her bed again. She paused, considered what he said, then nodded reluctantly.
"Probably," she agreed before pecking his cheek and wishing him a good night and making her way to her own bedroom.
Lester put himself to bed, disappointed but not surprised that Giana hadn't invited him to her room. They'd come a long way in the past few days, but they still weren't anywhere within shouting distance of what they'd been before he left for the mission.
He tossed and turned for hours, trying to will his body to sleep. He tried lying on the floor and running through some calming stretches and meditation but he couldn't stay focused on the task at hand. His mind kept drifting, to his mother, to Michelle, but mostly to the woman asleep just down the hall from him. That she was so close to him, but so far out of his reach felt wrong. It was wrong, but what could he do about it?
Resigned, he stood and made his way to the kitchen. Maybe some milk would help settle him.
He rounded the corner from the hallway and paused, stock-still while he stared. Gia, in a tank top and tiny boy shorts, her hair long and hanging down her back, stood in front of the sink staring out the window. It was the most undressed Les had seen her since the night he deployed, and his heart raced at the sight of her. She was stunning.
He must've made a noise because she turned her head and cast a glance over her shoulder, catching his eye and holding his gaze, sharing a smile with him.
"Can't sleep?" she asked. "Me neither. It's…it feels weird, sleeping here with you but being in separate rooms, right?" He nodded mutely, afraid that anything he said would deter her from talking.
"Would it, I mean, do you think it'd be uncomfortable if you just, um, slept in my bed with me? Just slept," she added quickly, a blush rising up her chest and fading into her neck. "I don't want to give you the wrong idea, that's why I left you in the guest room." She was blathering. She's nervous, Les realized. Understanding flooded through him, warming him to the tips of his toes.
"I'm nervous, too," he whispered, gratified when her body relaxed. "I sleep better next to you, Gia, and you sleep better next to me. Let's go to bed."
She floated over to him, never taking her eyes off of his before she took his hand and led him to her bedroom. There was an intimacy, a loving tenderness in the gesture that made Lester's eyes sting and his throat burn as he did his best to affect the same casual approach Gia did.
She slid under the covers first, then peered over her shoulder at him expectantly. Slowly, so slowly, Lester crawled in behind her, savoring every second and relishing the way she pressed her back eagerly to his front. With twin sighs, they relaxed into each other and fell asleep.