Disclaimers: I wish! No seriously I don't own 'The Rookies.' However, the story and my universe are mine.
Summary: Mike and Jill invite the guys and Lt. Ryker over for a barbecue as they finally reconnect. This chapter is rated a hard M for a very good reason.
Chapter 14: Storms and the Time Finally Becomes Right
Lt. Ryker was in the Watch Commander's office late the next afternoon when he heard a light knock on his door. "Come!" He shouted as the door opened and Mike walked in. "What do you need, Danko? I have a lot of work to do."
"We're barbecuing tomorrow out at the cottage. Jill wanted to know if you'd care to join us," he was nervous as he looked at the floor.
"How's she coming along?"
"She's doing great. She has a doctor's appointment this afternoon, as a matter of fact. Paul thinks that Dr. Conti might decrease her therapy sessions."
"That's great. So she hasn't had any problems making her way around the property or anything like that?"
"No sir. She has an area that she particularly likes and she tends to spend a lot of time out there. Just her and Trap's dog."
"Mary Kate's tree," the older man guessed as he looked at Mike.
"Sir, Jill didn't know—" Mike stopped as Ryker waved him silent.
"Don't worry about it. What time should I be there tomorrow?"
"Two o'clock?" Mike suggested as the lieutenant nodded. "Great! I'll tell Jill that we'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, Danko."
***MJMJMJ***
In Dr. Conti's office, Jill was demonstrating her walking prowess. "Do you depend on the crutches or can you go from place to place without them?"
"I use the . . . wall sometimes."
"Good. I'm glad to hear that. We're going to take your crutches away from you and give you this," he held a metal cane out toward her. "Your next step is to graduate from this to your own legs. I want you to continue practicing your balance as much as possible. I have to tell you that I'm very pleased with your progress."
"It seems like . . . it's taking forever," she complained as she hefted the weight of the cane in her hand.
"How's your memory coming along?"
"A little better. I kind of . . . remember losing our . . . baby. I kind of . . . remember doing things . . . with Mike. The rest is . . . patchy."
"Have you talked to your friends?"
"Not in a few . . . days. They're coming over . . . tomorrow."
"I want you to ask them for stories. Stories are a good way to jog your memory."
"Okay, thank you."
"You're welcome, Jill. I'll see you next week."
After Paul brought Jill home, she set out to practice with her new cane. It took her a little while to get used to less support, but she quickly got the hang of it. After greeting the horses and feeding them carrots, she looked around. In one corner of the stable, she spotted some fishing rods. Trap walked into the stable as she was looking at the rods. "Hi," she said as he walked over to start cleaning the stable. "Are there fish . . . in the lake?"
"Yeah, there's catfish in it. Do you even remember how to fish? You have to remember that you're married to a city boy now," he teased her.
"What do you . . . use for bait?" She ignored his jab at Mike.
"Crickets and grasshoppers, just like when we were kids. Do you want me to try and get you some?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes alight at the prospect of doing the one thing that she'd loved most as a little girl. Back before the world went crazy on her.
"Do I also have to bait your hook or can you handle that?"
"You never had . . . to bait my . . . hooks. I'm going for . . . a walk now. When you see . . . Mike . . . tell him."
"I'll tell him where to find you," he finished her sentence for her as she walked out. He smiled at seeing how happy a simple fishing rod had made her.
"Come on, Domino," she called to the dog who was lying outside the stable door. He gave a happy bark and took off after her.
She made her way out to her tree and sat down under the leafy shade of it and thought about what the doctor had said. She wondered if there were any happy stories or if everything was pathos and tragedy like a Greek play. The night before she'd been almost asleep when Mike had returned from his shower. She felt guilty about stopping things before they'd gotten too heated. One part of her brain and her body that desperately wanted Mike to make love to her. Then, there was the other part, the resistant part, that was still too scared. That was the part that still held too many memories of too many nights in a locked room with Cleve. Of that feeling that she was being split in two by his too hard thrusts into her body.
She thought of the dream that she'd had the night before. The dream that had led her to seek out the warmth and security of Mike. There'd been a small girl and something had kept her away from Jill, even though the child kept calling for her. Jill felt as if she'd had the dream before, too many times to count. There'd been other dreams the last several nights, but none of them had been as frightening as the one from the night before.
She was still deep in thought when Domino got up and ran off, barking happily as he went. She looked over to see who he was barking at, and smiled when she saw Mike walking toward her. "Don't get up," he called out as she started to rise. He sat down beside her on the grass and kissed her. "How was your doctor's appointment?"
"I got a . . . new toy," she smiled as she showed him the cane.
"Paul was telling me," he smiled back as Domino came back over and flopped down between them on the ground.
"Dr. Conti was . . . telling me that . . . he wants us . . . to share stories . . . tomorrow when . . . Willie and Terry . . . come over."
"We can do that. Lt. Ryker accepted your invitation and will be here tomorrow at two. Is that okay?"
"That's wonderful," she smiled as she pulled Mike's head closer and kissed him, laughing as the dog began growling low in his throat. "I think . . . Domino's jealous of you."
"Well, he should be," he grinned as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth as she followed suit.
"Are you going . . . to need another . . . cold shower?" She teased as she pulled back from him, feeling flushed and slightly breathless.
"Probably," he admitted as he rested his forehead against hers.
"Did you take a . . . lot of them . . . when we were . . . first together?"
"Sometimes too many," he sheepishly admitted.
"I'm flattered," she teased as he grinned. "I have to . . . tell you . . . something."
"What do you have to tell me?"
"Terry was asking . . . me this the . . . other day. He asked me . . . if I love you. It made me . . . start thinking."
"That can sometimes be a bad thing," he teased her.
"I'm serious."
"I'm sorry. What were you thinking about?"
"I do. Love you . . . I mean. Let me try . . . this again," she sighed deeply as she reached for his hand. "I love you, Mike."
His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. She'd told him that she loved him several nights before after her awful dream about her wrists, but she hadn't repeated it since. He figured with her still spotty memory, she might've forgotten that she'd said it. He remembered the first time she'd ever said those words to him. They had been terrifying for her to say. He knew that they were words that she never expected to say to another person in her life. "I love you too, baby," he whispered huskily as he kissed her once again as he lay down and pulled her down into the soft grass.
She clutched at the front of his shirt with her hands, still unsure of how far she wanted to take things, but at the same time, unsure of what to do with her hands. She sucked in her breath as he gently kissed and nipped at the side of her neck, just below her ear. Her memory took her back to a summer night at the drive-in when he'd first found that particular spot. She'd never known sensations like that existed. That spot had quickly become a favorite spot of his. He'd quickly learned that if he kissed that spot exactly right, she was putty in his hands.
She sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he continued kissing her neck and throat. But soon the grass started making her back itch uncomfortably. "Mike," she whispered, trying to ignore the grass.
"Shh, you're interrupting my snack," he teased as he unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.
"The grass is . . . making my back . . . itch," she complained. "I'm probably getting . . . attacked by ants."
"You do realize that you're ruining the mood," he sighed, feeling far more irritated than he'd intended. Not to mention he was so hard that he ached.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as she fought not to cry.
"Me, too," he whispered back as he rested his forehead against hers. "Give me a few minutes and we'll walk back to the house." When they got back to the house, he stopped in the doorway and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to take a walk. I'll be back in a little while."
"Do you want . . . me to come . . . with you?"
"No, you stay here and rest. I won't be long," he said as he stalked off.
He walked back to their tree and sat down under it. He felt guilty for feeling as frustrated as he'd been feeling the last several days. It was just hard to equate their how physical their relationship had always been to what was currently going on. 'Give her time, Mike,' he scolded himself. After all, they had nothing but time. She'd been doing so well with everything else that he knew that it was only a matter of time before things returned to normal in that area, as well. He'd been willing to give her space once upon a time. He could give her space again now. But he also made the conscious decision that it was no longer a good idea to let her sleep with him. He was getting to the point where he wasn't sure he could trust himself any longer. After all, there were only so many cold showers a man could take.
***MJMJM***
Trap was watching TV in his tiny house when he heard a light tapping on his door. He opened the door, surprised to find Jill standing there. "Jill, is there something wrong?" He stepped aside to let her inside.
"This looks like . . . a doll's house," she smiled as she looked around the tiny living room, instantly enchanted.
"Thanks, I think," he was unsure if she'd just complimented the house or made fun of it.
"I meant in . . . a good way," she turned to face him. "Can I . . . talk to you?"
"You can always talk to me. Do you want something to drink? I have cokes or lemonade."
"Lemonade's fine," she walked over to his sofa and sat down. "It's kind of . . . embarrassing."
"What's embarrassing? What you want to talk to me about?" He asked as she nodded. "I won't tell Mike if that's what you're worried about."
"It's kind of . . . about Mike."
"Like I said, I won't tell him," he handed her a glass of lemonade.
"But you told . . . him about my . . . dreams," she reminded him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd tell you that we talked."
"He didn't," she admitted. "I kind of . . . guessed. Trap . . . do you remember . . . the other house? Cleve used to . . . hurt me so . . . badly."
"I know that. Mike's not Cleve, Jill."
"I don't know . . . what you're talking . . . about."
"Yes you do. That's why you're here. You should be talking to Mike, not to me. Jill, I don't know everything that Cleve did to you behind that door, and I really don't want to know. Hearing it was awful enough. I'd hear you and I'd sometimes hear the headboard hitting the wall."
"That wasn't the . . . headboard. That was me," she said as Trap cringed. "One night I . . . bit him. When he . . . forced me . . . anyway, I bit him. He picked me up . . . and threw me at . . . the wall. I don't remember . . . much else . . . that night. Only that it . . . hurt a lot."
"Jill, please believe me when I tell you that if I could've gotten into that room, I would have."
"Then he would've . . . killed you and I . . . would've had nobody. Does Mike know . . . all of that?"
"I don't know what he knows and what he doesn't. You'd have to ask him."
"Trap he wants . . . to have sex . . . and I'm so scared!"
"Has he said anything? Has he made any threats?" Trap felt his blood starting to boil.
"No, nothing . . . like that. Part of me . . . wants it, too," she admitted as she felt herself blush. "But then I . . . remember those . . . nights and I . . . freeze."
"I think you're trying to rush things," he smiled at her. "But I've got an excellent idea. Why don't you go and talk to Mike and explain to him how you're feeling?"
"You really think . . . that I should?"
"Yes I do," he walked her to the door and ushered her out before closing it behind him. "Damn in, Mike! You have cold showers, not to mention two hands," he said under his breath after he'd closed the door.
Mike was sitting by the pool when Jill came back from Trap's. After asking Paul his whereabouts, she made her way out to the pool. "Can we . . . talk?"
"What's on your mind?" He pulled a patio chair out for her as she sat down.
"I'm a little . . . embarrassed," she stared at her hands as he smiled at her. "I wish that . . . I could remember . . . if it was . . . good between us. But all I . . . remember about sex . . . is pain. When you were . . . kissing me last . . . night I felt . . . you against me. But my mind . . . wasn't with you. It was with . . . him and I . . . couldn't get past . . . the pain."
She wiped at her face, unaware that she'd been crying. Her emotions felt as if they were all over the place.
"Jill, when it's time, we'll both knew it. I hope that you don't think that you have to give it because of me. Do you feel as if I've been pushing you to make things to back to the way they were before you got hurt?" She appeared confused as he continued. "Maybe I have been, I don't know. I was thinking while I was on my walk, and I think it'd really be best if we stayed in our own beds."
"Mike—"
"I'll come to you if you have bad dreams, and I'll even sit by you until you go to sleep, but I can't sleep with you. I'd never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you the way that he did."
"Mike I need . . . to be with you."
"I know that, and I need to be with you. But right now, I can't. Come on, let's get changed and get into the pool."
The next morning, Mike looked in on Jill before he went out to get things ready for the barbecue. He was cleaning the grill when she walked out onto the patio. "Good morning," he greeted her as she walked over to the patio table. "There's orange juice and bagels, if you're hungry."
"Why didn't you . . . wake me up?" She accused as she poured herself a glass of juice and sat down to watch her husband.
"Because you looked like you needed to sleep. Trap came by and left you some bugs," he made a face as he pointed to a covered container.
"Crickets!" She exclaimed happily as she peeked into the container. "Do you want . . . to go . . . fishing with me?"
"No thanks. I'm a city boy," he grinned as he continued cleaning the grill.
"You don't want . . . to go?" She asked, feeling somewhat disappointed. She felt as if he was trying to distance himself from her and it made her sad.
"Baby, I have a lot of work to do before Lt. Ryker and the guys get here. You go and I'll check on your progress in a little while," he promised as he walked over and kissed her chastely on the cheek before going back to his cleaning.
She frowned as she picked up the container and hobbled toward the stable, where she grabbed a fishing pole and headed for the dock. Mike had been acting strangely ever since their conversation of the day before. Except for kissing her goodnight the night before, he hadn't touched her in any way, shape, or form.
She sat down on the edge of the dock and baited her hook before casting her line into the water. She didn't know how she could make him understand how fearful she still was. She wondered if she'd been that afraid before. She knew the mechanics of sex. It was just the concept of actually enjoying it that seemed so foreign to her. She was beginning to wonder if they should just 'do it' and get it over with. That way, she could get over this fear of the unknown, and Mike could stop taking cold showers. Maybe then they'd both be happy. Or at least Mike would.
"Catching anything?" She turned to find Lt. Ryker standing there.
"Hi," she smiled up at him. "Not yet. Sit down. Please?"
"So, do you bait your own hook or do you take them over to Mike?" He teased as he eased himself down beside her.
"My grandfather . . . taught me how . . . to fish when . . . I was small. He'd never bait . . . my hooks for . . . me. Or take the . . . fish off. I don't think . . . Mike know how . . . to fish."
"I used to have to bait Mary Kate's hooks for her," Eddie fondly remembered. "She hated handling worms. What're you using for bait?"
"Crickets. Trap caught . . . them for me. Mary Kate . . . was your wife?"
"Yes. I told you about her a long time ago. Do you remember?"
"Not really but . . . I don't remember . . . a lot of things. I think that . . . it's causing problems . . . between me and Mike."
"What kind of problems? Would you like me to talk to Mike and talk some sense into him?"
"No please don't. It's all my . . . fault."
"Honey, none of what's going on right now is your fault. Mike's stubborn. I know this. Now, I can talk to him and knock some sense into him. All you have to do is say the word."
"No," she shook her head as she brought her line up. "Did you watch . . . the weather . . . this morning?"
"The weather? Why?"
"Is it going to . . . rain later?"
"There's a storm out at sea. But it might never make it this far. You don't like storms?"
"No."
"It'll be fine. I'll tell Danko where he can find the flashlights and the candles in case the power goes out. Would you like to go for a walk?"
"Yes," she decided. "We'll tell Mike."
He didn't understand Jill's mood, but he thought that maybe a walk would help her think and sort things out. This was the first time he'd seen her since right after the accident. It was hard for him to see her the way that she was now compared to the Jill that he normally knew. That Jill wasn't afraid of anything. This version of Jill was unsure of herself and her emotions. The last time he'd been out at the house with her, he'd almost gotten her killed. It had been hard for him to forgive himself for that. Anybody with half a brain could see how much he adored her, but he'd be hard-pressed to explain just why it was that he felt the way that he did about her.
They walked out to the tree and sat down under it. "Mike was telling me how much you love this tree. I haven't been out here to this tree in a very long time."
"Because of . . . Mary Kate?"
"She loved this tree. I proposed to her under this tree. And she died under this tree," he said in a low voice.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I'm glad that you love this tree as much as she did. So you're talking much better. And you're getting around much better. But the memory is still giving you problems?" He guessed as Jill nodded.
"Do you know . . . the stories? About me . . . and Mike?"
"No, but Mike doesn't share that part of his life with me. We're not that kind of friends. Have you talked to Gillis and Webster?"
"You knew about . . . Cleve?" She asked instead.
"Well, I know what I read from his rap sheet."
"Rap sheet? He'd been arrested?"
"Yes, but he'd also been committed. He'd been in a hospital for the criminally insane for three years," he told her as her eyes widened. "Are you okay hearing this? I thought that Mike had already told you."
"He may have . . . but I don't . . . remember. He's not . . . comfortable . . . talking about . . . him. So I guess . . . I have to be . . . okay hearing it."
"Jill, I won't tell you anything that you're not ready to hear. I don't know what you remember and I don't know what Mike's already told you."
"Mike told me . . . that you shot . . . Cleve," she took a deep breath so that she wouldn't stutter as badly as Lydia had taught her. "I remember a little . . . about that night. I'm not surprised . . . about the mental hospital. When I was with . . . him he did some . . . awful things to me. I won't go . . . into the details."
***MJMJMJ***
Back at the house, Mike had just fired up the grill when Terry and Willie showed up, both bearing paper bags full of goodies. "We brought buns, pickles, chips, and beer," Terry announced as they walked onto the patio. "Where's Jill?"
"She took a walk with the lieutenant," he answered in a short voice as his two friends looked at each other.
"That doesn't sound good," Willie put his bag on the table.
"Well it gets her out of my hair for a little while," he mumbled under his breath as the guys gave each other another look.
"Trouble in paradise?" Terry joked as he put the beer in the ice chest and poured bags of ice over it.
"I don't want to talk about it. Especially not with you two."
"Sex," Willie commented as Mike glared at him. "It always come down to sex."
"Believe me, William, it can't come down to something that isn't even happening," he said as he lowered the cover on the grill.
"Mike, you knew that you were going to have to give her time," Terry reminded his friend.
"I know. I get so angry and frustrated at her, and then I get even angrier at myself for acting this way! And today, I guess she senses the tension that's emanating from me, so she's pulling away. It'll work out. Hell, it has to," he stopped talking as he noticed Jill and Eddie walking toward the patio.
Jill smiled as Terry and Willie got up to greet her. She then walked over and sat down in her chair beside Mike. "What's wrong?" She noticed how all three men had gotten very quiet when she sat down.
"Nothing. How was your walk?" Mike smiled at her.
"Interesting," she answered cryptically.
The guys, Jill and Ryker sat about the table telling stories all afternoon and into the evening. Some of the stories did jar distant memories in Jill's brain, but most of them didn't. They were still fun to listen to most of them. As the evening wore on, she actually felt herself relaxing around Mike once again as she listened to him and his friends talk. "Mike never did . . . tell me how he . . . got hurt by . . . a stock car," she pointed out as Mike, Willie, and Terry collectively groaned. "What? What's wrong?"
"I was trying to rescue you," Mike explained. "Some guy who had a grudge against me took it out on you. He lured you to a race track and he had you in the car with you. For some stupid reason, I got out of my patrol car and was about to fire a shot at him when he hit me with the fender of his car."
"He told me . . . he was a cop," she remembered as Mike sat up in his chair. "You got so mad . . . at me . . . and so did he," she pointed at Eddie. "He was almost . . . scarier than Cleve. Almost, but not . . . quite," she shuddered at the two disparate situations.
"Jill, why didn't he want to meet me and Terry?" Willie asked as her heart jumped into her throat.
"He didn't like . . . cops. If you met him . . . he knew you'd . . . figure out that . . . he was no good."
"Mike being out of town must've been a dream come true for that scumbag," Terry said in a tight voice as he finished his beer.
"I don't want to . . . talk about him . . . anymore," she declared as the four men looked at her. "I want to . . . talk about Mike," she grinned as she looked around the table.
"Of course, her favorite subject," Terry teased as the other three men laughed.
"Wait, I thought that Jill was Mike's favorite subject!" Willie argued.
"I do have a question for Mike," Ryker said as everybody looked at him expectantly. "This has been on my time for some time, Danko. Why'd you leave the military? It's true that you were making much more money there than you were ever going to make as a rookie cop."
"I left the army for a lot of reasons, sir. But the main one was to save my marriage," he smiled at Jill as he reached for her hand and squeezed it.
"Oh, before I forget, don't drink too much tonight, gentlemen. Firearms qualifications are tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.," Ryker pointed out as all three men groaned. "I knew that would make everyone happy."
Jill had no idea what the lieutenant was talking about, but it didn't make Mike or the guys very happy. Everybody continued talking until long after the burgers had all been eaten. The lightning started flashing in the sky just after the sun had gone down. "Jill, it seems that you were right. It is going to storm," Eddie said as he stood up. "Danko, come with me and I'll show you where the flashlights and stuff are."
Jill looked across the table at Willie and Terry after Mike had followed the lieutenant into the house. "Was Mike mad . . . earlier?"
"He's mad at himself, Jill," Terry told her in a gentle voice. "It doesn't have anything to do with you. Well it does, but not in the way that you think."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive. So, when do you think you'll be coming home to the apartment? I've been watering your plants, by the way," Willie informed her.
"I have plants?" She'd never had plants before.
"Yeah, a huge Boston Fern."
"I'll be home . . . soon. When's the trial . . . going to be over?"
"Early next week. I don't know how many witnesses the defense is going to call. Please tell me that you don't want to go back," Terry said.
"No, I was . . . just wondering."
"Okay, babe," Mike walked back to the patio. "We're all set in case the power goes out. I have flashlights and about a dozen candles."
"That's good," she yawned as Mike sat beside her.
"Are you getting tired?"
"A little," she admitted.
"Okay, we get the hint," Terry looked at Willie as they stood up.
"No, I didn't . . . mean anything. You don't have . . . to leave," she protested as Terry walked over to her chair.
"It's okay," he said as he knelt down in front of her chair. "We'll have a lot more get-togethers like this when you come back home."
Mike helped Jill to her feet as the three men walked to the carport to leave. "We'll talk to you in a few days," Terry kissed her on the cheek before him and Willie got into the car.
"We'll see you in the morning, Mike!" Willie called out as he shut the passenger door.
"Eight o'clock, Danko," Ryker reminded him. "Get some sleep, young lady."
"I will," she promised as she yawned, more loudly this time.
The rain started falling as Mike and Jill walked through the back door. He walked her into the living room and settled her into a chair. "Stay here. I'm going to clean up outside. I'll be back in a few minutes."
She curled up in the chair as she listened to the rain hitting the windows. She rested her head against the back of the chair and was soon asleep. When Mike walked back a few minutes later, he smiled as he stood in the doorway watching her. He listened as the storm lashed at the house. He knew from experience that she wouldn't sleep long. He walked over and lifted her into his arms as she sleepily opened her eyes. "You smell like smoke," she complained as she rested her head against his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. I'll take a shower in a few minutes," he walked down the hall to her room and laid her on the squeaky bed before going over and removing her nightgown from her dresser drawer and bringing it over to her. "Do you want to take a shower when I'm done?" He asked as she nodded, still half-asleep. "Okay, I'll make sure to save you some hot water."
After he left the room, she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. She wondered why he'd never told her about Cleve being committed. The news of the commitment didn't really surprise her. After all, she'd lived with him for five years. She'd always thought that he was certifiable. Her mind was flashing back to a foggy night in the woods and being held securely by Mike. But again the flashes didn't make any sense. Maybe Mike could help her put the pieces together when he came back.
She smiled when he re-entered the room a few minutes later. "Come on, I'll help you take a shower before the storm really hits," he walked over and helped her to her feet.
"I can do it," she insisted stubbornly as she pulled free from his grasp.
"Okay, he relented, beginning to wonder if he'd once again said or done something wrong. After all, he seemed to be doing that a lot the past several days. "You'll holler if you need me?"
She nodded before grabbing her cane and making her way to the bathroom. After closing the bathroom door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. "You can't back out . . . this time, Jill," she mentally told herself as she slowly removed her clothes, struggling with the buttons, as usual.
She didn't know why she knew that tonight was going to be the night. She thought it had something to do with the storm, but she wasn't sure. All she knew was she couldn't say no this time. She knew from her experiences from Cleve that if she got Mike worked up one more time, he was just going to take what he wanted and that would be that.
She stayed in the shower as long as she could in order to waste time. It was only when the water turned ice cold that she finally got out of the tub. She tried to will herself to relax as she struggled with her gown. After all, it couldn't possibly hurt any worse with Mike than it had with Cleve, right? And Mike wasn't drunk. Maybe it wouldn't even take very long.
In Jill's room, Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed wondering what was taking her so long. He'd been listening for any sounds from the bathroom indicating that she'd fallen, or needed help, but there was only silence. Finally, after more than half an hour, she appeared in the doorway, her face ghostly white and her dark eyes huge and scared. He sighed as he realized that her past was once again trying to reclaim her. He'd seen that look too many times early in their relationship. He forced a smile as he held his hand out toward her. "Babe, relax. You look like you're about to be executed."
She let out the breath she hadn't realized that she was holding as she slowly hobbled over to the bed and shyly took his hand. "Can I ask . . . you a question?"
"Of course."
"Why didn't you . . . tell me about . . . Cleve? About the hospital? Eddie told me."
"I don't know," he answered her honestly, although he had told her some of it, just not all of the details. "I think it was because you were having so much trouble believing that he was dead. I guess I figured that telling you that he'd been committed would've been that much more confusing to you. Forgive me?"
She nodded as she played with his fingers, something that she'd always done. "I wasn't surprised. Did he escape?"
"No, he played the system and they released him. After all, he was manipulative," he reminded her as she nodded. "Now, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes."
"Are you afraid of me? You can tell me the truth. I'm not going to get angry."
"I can't tell you . . . no again," she whispered as he strained to hear her.
"What're you talking about? Jill, listen to me. If you're not ready, all you have to do is say the word. That's the way that it's always been with us. I'm not Cleve. I'm not going to force you. I'm not going to threaten you with a loaded gun beside the bed," he told her as her face went even more deathly white. "I know the stories, baby. You told me."
"All of them?"
"I don't know. Let's just take things one step at a time, okay?"
"I'm remembering . . . so many things. Why can't I remember . . . us?" She asked as her eyes filled with tears. "I'd rather remember you . . . than remember him!" The word 'him' came out as a strangled scream.
"It's okay. Do you remember the night when you first asked me to stay with you?" She slowly nodded. "You let me hold you all night long. That rarely ever happens. It was nice," he smiled as she tentatively smiled back.
"I don't like . . . to sleep close."
"I know, that's why holding you that night was so nice. We can just do that tonight, if that's what you want. If things go further, that's terrific. If not, there are other nights. You know what? I'll be right back."
He came back moments later with several of the candles that Eddie had shown him. He placed them in different places around the room and lit them as he turned to smile at her. "Ambiance," he blew the match out.
Though she thought the candles were a romantic touch, she was still unsure as he walked over and pulled the blankets back on the bed, getting under and beckoning for her to join him. She got under as he pulled the blankets over the both of them before slipping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. "Your heart is . . . beating so fast," she pointed out as she put her head on his chest. "It sounds like a . . . drum." He didn't answer her, he just laid there drawing lazy circles on her back, something that he knew would eventually drive her crazy. "My hands," she said suddenly as Mike stopped moving his fingers.
"What about your hands?" He asked innocently as he glanced down at her. She'd asked the same thing the first time they made love.
"What do I . . . what am I supposed . . . to do with them?" Her look of confusion deepened when Mike burst out laughing. "Don't laugh!"
"I'm sorry, baby." He apologized as he kissed her forehead. "You can put your hands wherever you want them to be, okay?"
She once again settled into his arms as feelings of confusion continued to overwhelm her. She finally put her hand over his chest so that she could feel the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart. Neither of them said anything for several minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. She felt herself beginning to relax under his gentle fingers, as they traced larger and larger circles on her back. She began to squirm as they gradually moved lower. "Don't," she protested as he moved to a particular spot on her lower back. She didn't know why she didn't want his fingers there, but he immediately stopped.
"I'm sorry. Would you like for me to kiss you?"
"That would be nice," she breathed as he tilted her chin upward and gently put his lips over hers. She liked kissing him. Kissing him was familiar and something that she was used to. Kissing him made her stomach feel all fluttery and strange, like riding a roller coaster.
She sighed into his mouth as the kiss deepened and his arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer to him. After a few minutes of slow, deep kisses, he moved to that one spot on her neck, the one that always made her feel as if she was on an elevator where the floor had dropped from under her. He began kissing and gently nipping at the tender skin between her neck and her collarbone, causing her to squirm and wiggle in delicious torment. She could never remember feeling like this before.
After feasting on her neck for several tortuous minutes, he pulled away, causing her to stare at him in confusion. She was wondering why he'd stopped when she was starting to feel so . . . strange. "Now I'm not sure what to do with my hands," he confessed, laughing as she blushed a deep shade of red. "You're so cute when you blush like that."
"Do I always . . . get so embarrassed?" She asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable by her discomfiture.
"Not as much as you used to, but it's okay," he assured her as he forced her to look at him. "Your shyness is one of the things that I love about you."
"I still can't believe . . . that things are . . . really good," she confessed as she bit her lower lip. "You're sure that . . . I don't do that?" She asked, referring to oral sex.
"No, and I don't expect you to. But, it's okay."
"But, I let you do that to me."
"It took a long time, but yeah, I go down on you," he bit back a smile as her blush got even darker.
"I told you . . . why I don't do that," she whispered as she averted her eyes from him.
"Yes, you told me and again, that's okay. We touch and we kiss," he said as he kissed her to emphasize his point. "And everything has been absolutely wonderful for the past five years."
"Are you sure?" She asked, doubting that things could be that good.
"I'm positive," he assured her once again as he smiled down at her before once again claiming her lips with his own.
When he pulled away, she lightly traced his lips with her fingertips before reaching her hand up and drawing him back down to her. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure that Mike could hear it, too. Those strange feelings soon returned, leaving her feeling confused and bewildered. She finally pulled back from him, feeling as if she couldn't breathe. "I can't breathe," she whispered as she pressed her hands tightly to his chest.
Staring into her eyes, he could see the different emotions that were swirling there. He wanted to take things just a little further, but he wanted to make sure that she was ready for him to go further. "Baby, can I touch you?" He asked on a ragged breath as he trailed kisses along her cheek down to her neck and shoulder.
Touch her? The question caused her to stiffen up momentarily in his arms. It took her a minute to relax and let out the breath she'd been holding. After all, this was Mike. He'd been nothing but slow and gentle since that day she'd awakened in the hospital, not knowing who he was. To demonstrate his intent, he took his palm and placed it over her still clothed breast, instantly feeling her nipple harden under his hand. She was finding it harder and harder to breathe as she stared into his blue-green eyes. She lightly moaned as he kissed her once more, as he slowly moved his fingers over her breast through the gown.
Feeling suddenly too warm, she reached up to run her fingers through his hair, holding him closer to her as he continued devouring her mouth with his own, their tongues mingling and battling with each other. After several minutes of passionate kissing and caressing, he reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her gown, reaching inside to touch her warm, bare skin, as he smiled at her quick intake of breath. He was aching with his own arousal, but he didn't dare move too fast. He was almost afraid of what would happen if she changed her mind again. When he got no objection after one button, he became bolder and unbuttoned the rest, opening her gown to his hungry mouth and hands. Pushing her gown off of her shoulders, he kissed his way down her newly-bared skin.
"Oh God, Mike," she sighed loudly as she felt his mouth close over her nipple, teasing it to an even stiffer peak with his tongue, before moving to her other breast and repeating the torment, smiling wickedly as he heard the delicious sounds coming from his wife's mouth. Her fervent cries were going straight to his groin, causing him to mentally slow things down. She stiffened up once again as he traced his fingers slowly down her belly to the top of her panties.
Sensing her reticence, he moved back up and kissed her once again, slow, lingering kisses that were making her dizzy with . . . what she didn't know. He moved his hand down once more to her breast, before slowly moving his way further down. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt his fingers on the outside of her panties. The strange feelings intensified when she felt him lightly stroke her. She didn't understand what was going on in her body. Her body didn't even feel as if it belonged to her anymore.
She couldn't stop the moans coming from her throat as she felt Mike once more close over her achingly erect nipple with his lips as he continued lightly touching her through her panties. She instinctively reached her hand down to press his fingers more firmly to her. She closed her eyes as he pressed against her harder, rubbing her in light circles as she wriggled under him.
He could feel how wet she was as he kept up his firm touch on her. Keeping up the same touch, he slowly began kissing his way down her body, expecting her to resist him at any time. When he didn't get any, he continued his journey, all while still touching her. Her cries were starting to become frantic, so he knew that she was getting close. He decided that he wanted more skin to skin contact, so stilling his questing fingers, he lifted the hem of her gown and lifted it up and off of her body as she assisted him along the way. He then reached down and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs as she hesitantly raised her hips to help him along.
She'd never felt more naked in her life as he moved back up, and kissed her once more. As they shared another long kiss, he gently opened her legs and began touching her once again, as her breath hitched at the sensation of his fingers on the most intimate part of her body. "You are so damn wet," he breathed in her ear as he rubbed the most sensitive part of her with his thumb, causing her to give out a sharp cry. "You feel so good."
Had it felt this wonderful in her former life with him? She didn't know what he was doing to her, but she wanted to feel more of whatever it was that he was doing. He very obviously knew what he was doing with his hands and his mouth. Maybe that was why she'd finally let him do that. All she knew was that she could no longer think coherent thoughts as he once again began moving down her body.
She felt his hands on her knees as he opened her legs. He kissed and nibbled on the inside of her thighs before moving in between her legs.
This must be what sky diving felt like, she thought. That feeling that your stomach was dropping out from under you. Her hands threaded into his hair as she seemed to feel his tongue everywhere. She remembered something about roamin' hands and rushin' fingers. Mike had told her that. There was a storm outside just like tonight. She felt as if there were springs deep in her belly, coiled so tightly that she felt as if she'd burst if the tension didn't dissipate. The tension became tighter . . . tighter . . . "Come on, baby. Let go," she heard Mike urge her as he entered her with two fingers.
She screamed loudly as the tension exploded into something so wonderful that words couldn't even describe it. Her whole body felt watery and boneless as she still felt Mike gently flicking at that sensitive part of her as her breathing gradually returned to normal, although she was still letting out the occasional moan.
She slowly opened her eyes as she felt Mike move back up to gather her in his arms. She could feel his arousal pressing against her hip as he kissed her. "That was . . . wow," she couldn't find words as he pulled back to smile into her eyes.
"Is it all right if I get out of my clothes?" He asked, noticing the slight look of terror that crossed her face. "Things are getting a little tight."
"I'll do it," she bit her lip shyly as she carefully took the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it over his head. She noticed the medallion that he wore around his neck. She'd noticed it before, but never in such an intimate setting. "Your mother . . . gave you this?" She looked at him as he smiled.
"Yeah, when I went into the army. St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers. Jill, if you'd rather that I take my pants off . . . "
"No, I'll do it," she took a deep breath as she reached down to the button at the top of his pajamas. Biting her lip in concentration, and something else that she couldn't identify, she managed to unfasten his pants as his erection immediately sprang through the fly. "You need to . . . stand up."
He got up from the bed as his pants dropped to his ankles and he stepped out of them before kicking them to one side. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he took one of her hands in his own and guided it to him. "You don't go down on me, but you love to touch me. And, I love to watch you touching me."
He guided her hand as she wrapped it around him. After moving her hand with his for a few strokes, he finally removed his hand and allowed her to continue on her own. He groaned loudly as she moved her hand up and down his hard shaft, at first her touch was slow and tentative, but she got gradually faster as her confidence grew.
Judging by the sounds that he was making, she guessed that he liked what she was doing. She rubbed her thumb around the velvety tip as a shudder ran through his body. "I guess it's kind of like riding a bike, huh?" He gasped as he tried to think of state capitals, or movies starring Clark Gable, anything to slow things down a little.
She couldn't get over how he felt in her hand. He was so hard, and yet his skin was so soft, all at the same time. For the first time, she found herself wondering if he could make her feel as good as he had with his mouth a little while ago. This was the first time she could remember actually wanting to have sex. "Mike, I want you," she found herself moving up to whisper in his ear.
His eyes flew open at her request. "Are you sure?" He asked her.
"Yeah, I want you," she repeated, as she placed her hand behind his neck and pulled him down so that he was covering her body with his own.
She whimpered as he teased her several times with his hardness before slowly entering her, groaning as he felt the wet warmth of her engulfing him. "Are you okay?" He asked as his blue-green eyes met her dark brown ones.
"I'm wonderful," she pulled his head down to kiss him as he began to move, slowly at first to give her time to get used to him, and then gradually faster at her urging. She wrapped her legs around his calves as her cries became more urgent as she moved her hips up to meet his thrusts. She dug her nails into his back and her face into his shoulder as that wonderful feeling of tension coming unleashed roared through her once again.
Mike felt the delicious feeling of her clamping down around him as she cried out into his shoulder. He cried out her name as he thrust deeply into her one more time before spilling himself inside of her.
She could barely move as she felt Mike raise himself off of her. He got out of bed, blowing out the candles before rejoining her in bed. She felt slightly sore, but in a nice way as he pulled her into the hollow of his shoulder as she listened to the still rapid pounding of his heart as he lightly stroked her back. Something told her this was their usual routine after making love. "Are we always . . . that loud?"
"Most of the time," he answered drowsily as he continued stroking her back, knowing that she needed to be held and caressed after making love.
"What do we . . . do for . . . birth control?"
He pulled back to look at her. Birth control had never seriously been an issue during their marriage, although Jill had been on the pill while they were dating. They'd often joked about a book that she owned about caution and precaution. "Are you worried about getting pregnant?"
"No, not worried. I just don't . . . want you to get . . . angry if I did," she said in a subdued voice as she glanced up at him.
A huge smile broke over his face as he hugged her even closer to him, so close it was as if their two heartbeats were one. "I wouldn't be angry. I'd love nothing more in this world than to have a baby with you."
"Really?"
"Really," he repeated as he once again let his fingers do a leisurely exploration of her body.
She whimpered as his fingers touched her intimately once more. "Do you always . . . torture me like this?" She gasped loudly as she reached down to still his fingers. "You're making me . . . crazy."
"But, crazy in a good way, right?"
She didn't answer as she just cuddled closer to him. She didn't realize that she'd fallen asleep until the thunder woke her up. She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover up her nakedness. The lightning lit up the room in brilliant flashes of light. She glanced over at Mike, who was laying face down, his face scrunched up into his pillow. She jumped as a loud crash of thunder rattled the windows as the rain began to beat against the panes.
He stirred at the sound of the thunder and sleepily rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, surprised to find Jill sitting up wide awake. "What's wrong?" He asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he reached for her.
"I didn't mean . . . to wake you up," she apologized as she struggled to keep the sheet pulled up modestly to cover her bare breasts. "I know that you . . . have to get up . . . in a few hours."
"Baby, I'm not going to be able to sleep knowing that something's upsetting you," he propped himself up on his elbow.
"I'm not upset. I guess the . . . storm woke me up. You must think . . . my fear of . . . storms is . . . silly."
"No. The very first time that we were together there was a storm. It was romantic."
"Can I ask a . . . question?" She asked, saying the words slowly so that she wouldn't stammer so badly. He nodded as she continued. "You said last night . . . you wouldn't be upset if . . . we had a baby. Terry told me that there . . . was an accident. He or Willie wouldn't tell . . . me anymore. They said that I . . . needed to ask you. Does it have anything . . . to do with why I . . . don't want you touching . . . my back?" Seeing the sadness that crossed over his face, she was afraid that she'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry. You don't have to say . . . anything. It can wait."
"It's okay. We'd gone out to dinner and a man came in with a gun. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I found out early the next morning that you'd been pregnant."
"You didn't know?"
"You never got the chance to tell me. The guilt still tears me up. But that was then and this is now," He pulled her into his arms as he hands began to roam over her body as she sighed blissfully.
She woke up the next morning and reached out for Mike, only to find an empty bed. "Mike!" She sat up and called out for him.
"I have to go or I'm going to be late," he walked into the room carrying a cup of coffee in his hand. "I'd take you with me, but you'd be too much of a distraction," he sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her. "Do you think that you'll be okay for a couple of hours by yourself?"
"I'll be fine," she smiled as she kissed him back. "Do good on your . . . test."
She managed to get dressed with a minimum of trouble. After getting dressed, she unlocked the front door and made her way to the stable where she found Trap already hard at work. "Morning," he muttered as she walked over and sat on a bale of hay. "I'm surprised that Mike left you alone."
"I'm not alone. I'm with you," she pointed out as she watched him. "Can I ask you . . . something?"
"That depends."
"Did you know that . . . Cleve had been committed?"
"Not until after he was dead. Mike told me. Please don't tell me that you're surprised that he was in the nut house. Your friends sure weren't happy when they learned about him."
"What're you talking about?"
"Well, there was fact number one, which is the fact that Mike went out of town and left you alone knowing full well that Cleve was in town. Fact number two is the fact that he didn't bother to inform your friends what he was capable of. How could Mike have left you alone with him in town, Jill? I don't understand you at all. The guy claims to care about you, yet he leaves you alone with someone that he knew you were afraid of."
"Mike told me that . . . you're the one who took . . . me back to Alabama," she quickly changed the subject. Obviously, there was some kind of bad blood between her friend and Mike.
"I don't want to talk about that."
"Did you know that Mike . . . and I almost had a baby? I have trouble seeing . . . myself with a baby."
"The lieutenant told me about the shooting. I didn't know about the baby. I'm sorry," Trap said in a short voice, indicating that he didn't want to talk about that either.
"Is my being here . . . bothering you?"
"Right now you're keeping me from my work," he commented through gritted teeth as she got up and began hobbling out of the stable. "Jill, stop! I'm sorry."
"I can help you with . . . some of your work," she offered with a smile.
"No, go sit back on your hay bale. Keep me company," he looked at her and grinned as she couldn't help but grin back. It almost felt like being seven again and skipping out on chores.
When Mike arrived home shortly after noon, he was worried at first when he didn't find Jill in the house. He walked out of the house and walked toward the stable where he found Jill and Trap outside in the yard. "There you are!" He smiled as he walked over and kissed her on top of her head.
"How was your test?"
"Piece of cake," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. "It's a nice day for a ride. Would you care to join me?"
"That sounds nice," she smiled back as she pulled his head down and kissed him.
He saddled up two of the horses and helped her onto her mount before getting on his own horse and taking the reins of her horse in his hand. Neither of them said a word as they made their way to the tree. He dismounted from his horse first before walking up to help her down, holding her close to him before walking over and sitting down under the shade of the tree. "So, what were you and Trap discussing?" He wrapped his arms around her.
"He wanted to know why . . . you left me alone with Cleve."
"Babe, I know that he's upset, but he doesn't know the whole story. I didn't want to go. You were the one who insisted that you'd be okay. I told you that. I messed up by leaving or at least not warning the guys what Cleve could do. No matter what Trap has led you to believe, if I'd known that you were going to be in danger, I would've never left you alone. You believe that, don't you?" He tightened his grip around her.
"You really didn't want . . . to go?"
"I really didn't want to go. You'd just lost the baby. I was worried sick about you the entire time that I was gone. I tried calling you that last day and I immediately knew that something was wrong. I still have nightmares about getting there five minutes too late."
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"I want to go back to . . . our apartment," she craned her head around to look at him.
"Babe, Paul and the doctors are worried that you won't be able to handle stairs."
"I'll manage," she declared stubbornly. "I mean, this is . . . nice, but it isn't home."
"I'll tell you what. The trial is due to wrap up early next week. As soon as that's all squared away, I'll take you home. Okay?"
She turned herself completely around until she was facing him. She felt herself blush at the look in his eyes. "I missed you today," she smiled as she leaned forward.
"I missed you, too," he murmured as he kissed her. "Believe me, babe, I would've much rather have spent the morning with you in bed than at the firing range with Willie, Terry, and the lieutenant."
He wrapped his arms around her before lowering her down to the soft, warm grass. "Have we ever made . . . love outside before?"
"Let me think," he teased as he lightly brushed her hair from her eyes. "I believe that we've utilized every room in our apartment, but no, I don't believe that we've ever made love outside before."
"What if someone . . . comes out here?"
"Who? Domino? I don't think Trap ever comes out here. And I really don't think the horses are going to say anything," he grinned as Jill put her hands over her eyes and groaned. "But if you're really that uncomfortable, we can go back to the house."
"Let's go back to the . . . house," she decided as he slowly stood up and helped her to her feet.
A/N: Sorry that this chapter ran on for so long. Another chapter or two and this will be all wrapped up. Thanks for coming along for the ride.