Where the Heart Lies

Chapter Eight Anniversaries and Questions

Abbie was exhausted by the time she finished work, and as she rode the bus home her only thought was how badly she wanted to stagger into her apartment and sleep for a month. She got home, fell onto her couch with a cry of relief, and then pulled out her phone, dialing Willard's number.

Willard was lounging in the living room watching Socrates run around when his phone rang. He sighed, and answered it.

"Willard Stiles speaking."

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey baby. You sound exhausted."

Abbie nodded, knowing he couldn't see her. "I am. I had to type up a thirty page brief today."

Willard whistled in sympathy. "Ouch. Are you trying to tell me you don't want me to come over?"

"No, you can still come over; just don't expect me to be very energetic."

Willard laughed. "That's alright. You go home and get some sleep; I'll come over tomorrow night. I prefer you awake and alert. See you later, love."

"Yeah, see you. I love you."

"I love you too."

Willard ended the call, leaning back with a sigh, and Socrates ran up his arm to perch on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "You concerned about me, Socrates?" The rat stared at him, and Willard chuckled, scratching him between the ears. "Or are you just disappointed that you won't get to see Abbie tonight?" Socrates chittered, and Willard sighed. "Yeah, I'm disappointed too, but she sounded done in on the phone. We'll see her tomorrow, I'm sure." Socrates chittered again, and Willard grinned. "That's a good idea."

He grinned and headed for the kitchen, ready to put his plan into action. 'I hope she appreciates this.'

Abbie was stretched out on her couch asleep when three firm knocks sounded at her front door, startling her into wakefulness. She rolled off the couch, landing on the carpet with a grunt of surprise, and stomped towards the door, muttering angrily under her breath. "Wake me up from a lovely nap, this had better be good." She yanked the door open, staring in shock at Willard. He was grinning sheepishly at her, and Abbie noticed he had a large bag balanced in his arms.

"Hey babe. Did I wake you up?" Abbie just glared at him, and he gulped. "I guess that's a yes. Can I at least explain myself before you throw me down the stairs?" Abbie nodded, still glaring, and Willard took a breath. "I got to thinking, you sounded so done in on the phone, and you're probably too tired to make yourself a decent meal, and I had a bunch of food in my house, so I umm…I brought you something to eat." He shoved the bag into her hands and waited nervously, his hands in his pockets.

Abbie blinked at him, and then peered into the bag. Inside was a delicious looking roast, a salad, two large baked potatoes, and-best of all- chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. "Willard, did you…make all this?"

He nodded. "All except the cake. I got that at the bakery near here. The roast needs warming up. I made it this morning." He laughed at her gobsmacked expression. "What? You surprised I can cook?" Abbie blushed, and he smiled. Abbie smiled back, and then stepped aside.

"Willard, you had better come in. I don't know if I could eat this all by myself."

Willard grinned at her and stepped into the apartment, and Abbie set the bag on the counter, pulling out the food. She popped the roast and potatoes in the oven and was about to place the cake on the counter when Willard's arms wrapped around her waist. He placed his cheek against hers and swayed briefly, humming. Abbie giggled. "What's got you so happy?"

He chuckled, kissing her jaw. "Mmmm…you taste like peaches. But to answer your question, you do. You've got me happy. I know what a lucky man I am to have found you. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Abbie turned in his arms, gazing into his eyes, which were soft with love. "Willard, I…" she blinked when Willard placed his fingers on her lips, giving her a mock scolding look.

"I'm not done, Abbie. You are the most amazing, beautiful, crazy, intelligent, and caring person I have ever met, and you have the most adorably crooked grin." Abbie blushed, and Willard smiled, and then softly kissed her. "I love you, Annabelle Carsons."

Abbie kissed him back. "I love you too, Willard Stiles."

The kiss soon deepened, and Abbie felt herself responding to Willard's touch. He slid his hand up her leg, gently squeezing, and she groaned into his mouth, pressing firmly against him with a low moan of eager surrender. "Willard…"

He pulled out of the kiss, face slightly flushed. "The kitchen isn't really the best place to be doing this. Couch?" Abbie nodded, and Willard led her over to the couch, pulling her down and on top of him. "Better?"

"Much. Now, do shut up and kiss me senseless."

Willard obeyed happily, clutching Abbie to him and kissing her as fiercely and passionately as he could, running his hands up and down her back-and gradually he noticed something quite unusual. "Abbie….umm…are you wearing anything under your shirt?"

She grinned wickedly at him and he growled, kissing her deeply and clutching the bottom of her shirt in his hands, ready to pull it off. Abbie slid her hands down his arms and held his hands still. "We still haven't eaten, Willard. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. You'll just have to control yourself until after dinner."

Willard pouted. "Spoilsport. But I guess I see it your way. It would be a damn shame to burn the roast."

Abbie giggled and kissed him. "That it would be."

Willard sighed, running his hand up and down her arm. "You don't make it easy, you know. Your nearness is quite intoxicating to me." He kissed her throat, moaning softly. "You taste so good…" Abbie groaned, tilting her head to give him better access.

Willard kissed her, his tongue flicking across her neck as his hands slid up her shirt to cup her firm breasts. He gently flicked her nipples with his thumbs, moaning quietly as he felt them harden beneath his touch. "Abbie…god baby you feel so damned good…"

Abbie whimpered in pleasure as Willard's hands roved over her breasts, gently and firmly squeezing and stroking. "Willard…" She shifted herself so her breasts were pressed more fully into his hands, and shut her eyes, sighing happily. "Mmmm…."

There was a loud buzz that seemed to pierce the very air of the apartment. Willard gave a yelp of shock at the noise, his eyes wide. "What the hell?"

Abbie began laughing. "It's….it's the kitchen timer. The roast is done."

Willard pouted at her and sighed. "I suppose this means we're going to have to get up?" Abbie nodded, still chuckling, and Willard smirked at her. "Well, then you're going to have to find a way to cool me down." He took her hand, placing it gently on the crotch of his trousers, and she gasped at how hard he was. Willard gazed at her. "Unless you want me to take you on the table, you'd better defuse the situation quick."

Abbie grinned wickedly. "Imagine Mrs. Leach in a bikini."

Willard blinked at her in shock and disgust, his mouth working silently. "Imagine…OH GOD that's disgusting! I think you might have turned me off to sex permanently!"

Abbie scoffed at him. "Bullshit."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but still-that's a pretty cringe worthy image. Now, let's go eat, shall we?" He nudged Abbie, and she rolled off him, heading towards the kitchen to retrieve the roast and potatoes from the oven. The delicious smell filled the apartment, and Willard inhaled deeply, mouth watering. Socrates, who was perched on the top of the couch, looked towards the kitchen, an eager expression on his face, and chittered happily. "Smells good, hey Socrates?"

"Willard, come carve this hunk of meat, please! "Abbie called from the kitchen. Willard walked into the kitchen, giving her a salute.

"Aye- Aye Ma'am. Just show me where you keep your carving knife, and I'll get right on it."

Abbie pointed to a nearby drawer. "It's in there. It should be sharp, I hardly ever use it."

Willard found the knife and began to carve the roast. The knife was a good one-nice and sharp, and the roast was tender and full of juices. He speared a piece of it on the tip of his knife and popped it into his mouth, eyes narrowing in pleasure. "Damn, that's good."

Abbie got down two plates, placed them on the counter, then walked over to him and peeked over his shoulder, mouth watering. "Are you done yet? I'm starving!"

He chuckled, pointing towards the table. "Almost. Go on and sit and I'll bring you a plate." She pouted, and he gave her a mock glare. "Go on."

Abbie sat, stomach growling in anticipation and hunger. Willard prepped both their plates, placing hers in front of her with a flourish and a grin. "Your dinner, my dear. I hope you enjoy it."

Abbie took a bite, and her eyes widened happily. "Wow. You're a damn good cook, babe. But you honestly didn't have to go to all this trouble. I would have been happy with just a sandwich from the Deli downtown."

Willard grinned. "Actually, I did have to go to all this trouble. Do you know what today is?"

Abbie thought for a moment. "Tuesday, why?"

Willard smiled wider. "We met three weeks ago today. I figured that deserved a bit of celebration."

Abbie laughed. "That's right, we did. If you go all out for our three week anniversary, I'd love to see what you do for the other ones."

Willard smiled in happy shock at her. "The other ones? How many are we going to have?"

Abbie looked thoughtful, and then smiled at him. "As many as we can, for as long as we can. How does that sound?"

Willard grasped her hand, kissing the knuckles. "Perfect." He turned her hand, kissing the palm, and she shut her eyes, sighing softly.

"Willard…"

"I need you, Abbie." He gazed at her, his eyes blazing, and she shuddered in eager anticipation. Willard kissed the inside of her wrist, and then slowly moved up her arm, nipping gently. "I need you so damn badly, baby." Abbie moaned in surrender, and Willard groaned happily.

He stood, pulling her to her feet and into a deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing eagerly against his firm body, wriggling in pleasure as she felt his erection digging into her thigh. Willard growled and steered her towards the bedroom, his hands roving over every inch of her.

They reached her bedroom, and Willard kicked the door shut, then spun around and pinned her against the wall, kissing and biting her throat. Abbie growled his name, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Willard…."

"I love you so damn much, Abbie. You are so intoxicating…so beautiful…I love you…"

Abbie moaned, her hands dexterously unbuttoning his shirt. He helped her remove it, tossing it in a corner and molding his body against hers.

He carried her over to the bed, laying her gently on it, and then moved so he was lying on top of her. "Can I take your shirt off now?"

Abbie chuckled at his eager smile and raised her hands over her head. Willard grinned like a schoolboy and pulled off her shirt, gulping quietly. "God, you get more gorgeous every time I see you."

"Are you talking to me or my breasts?" Abbie asked drily.

Willard burst out laughing. "I think maybe both in this case. You are gorgeous, and you also have quite lovely breasts." Abbie chuckled.

"I thought you were a leg man." She gasped as Willard began stroking her leg through her slacks.

"Oh, those are quite lovely as well; believe me-especially when they're bare." He gave her a mock glare. "You are wearing far too many clothes."

"Slacks and underwear is too many?"

He nodded. "Much too many." She smirked at him.

"Well, we'd better do something about that, hadn't we?"

Willard chuckled, kissing her. "Yes, we had."

They undressed each other, kissing and caressing every bit of bare skin they could reach. Even though it was only their second night together as lovers, they were both already attuned to each other, knowing just where to kiss and touch in order to send their partner to the heights of pleasure.

Their lovemaking was slow, intense, and passionate, and by the time it was over Abbie had lost count of how many times she climaxed, and she was covered in sweat and panting. "God Willard…that was amazing."

He sighed against her throat, breathless. "Yeah. Abbie?"

"Hmmm?"

"Marry me."

Abbie gawped at him, and then spoke in a low whisper. "What did you say?"

He gazed seriously at her. "Annabelle Carsons, will you marry me?" She opened her mouth, and he gently placed his fingers on her lips. "I love you. I can't guarantee we'd have a perfect marriage or hell, even a perfect engagement. I can't promise you the moon, the stars, or that we'll live in the lap of luxury all our days. What I can promise is that I will always be yours, no matter what."

"Yes."

Willard blinked at her. "Yes what?"

She lightly smacked his shoulder. "What do you think, silly? Yes, I'll marry you."

Willard beamed wider than he ever had before, and then pulled her into a passionate kiss. "I was hoping that would be the answer." He sighed. "I…I don't have a ring to give you right now, but I promise-you'll get one, and it will be a beauty." Abbie smiled softly at him, stroking his cheek.

"It doesn't have to be, love. I'll be happy with anything you pick out for me."

Willard kissed her gently. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled up against him, sighing. He stroked her back, sending her to sleep, a small smile on her beautiful features.

'I have a fiancé.' He smiled softly at the thought.

His life was going wonderfully.

Author's Note-Yay, I'm finally finished with this chapter! My muse kept falling asleep on me. I think it was trying to make me stall so I wouldn't have to write Chapter Nine-which will have a very sad moment in it.