thanks for reading! wanted to get this one to you quickly as it follows right from the last chapter.
it's a long one because I couldn't help but add something dirty, hope you don't mind (Rated M scene ahead)
enjoy xoxo
disclaimer: I own nothing
As the morning goes on, frustration builds in Jess's body with every light remark Christopher makes. It's like being around Liz; he will not acknowledge or address the heaviness that Rory bears as she is forced to witness the different childhood she could have had. Jess is sure her father feels it too but doesn't want the responsibility of dealing with it. And he knows in reality it isn't the time or place, but it is hard to witness the love of his life feel alienated from a family that she deserves to be a part of. With every comment that Christopher makes about details of Gigi's life, he notices a flash of a grimace on Rory's face. Underneath his concern for Rory, is simmering anxiety about his own father that's surely making everything feel worse.
Hours and three dress stores later, Jess is on edge. He's had to watch Christopher shower Gigi with praise while his kindhearted Rory just nods along with everything to keep the peace. He knows that she's not jealous of her sister, she's not that kind of person. There is just such an obvious difference in the way Chris is present in his younger daughter's life, it grates on both her and Jess.
"Rory, try a dress on with me. You would look gorgeous in this color!" Gigi enthuses as she pulls a dress out of her dressing room for her. It's a blush colored full length silky gown, with spaghetti straps and a slit up one leg. Rory, Jess and Christopher sit in the lounge area just outside the changing space. Rory smiles but shakes her head.
"No, this is your day to find a perfect dress. I'm just here to tell you how beautiful you look in everything! And you really have, in every single dress you've tried on today. Absolutely gorgeous."
Jess barely manages to bite down the laugh bubbling from his chest. There was no annoyance in Rory's voice at all, but Gigi has tried on at least twenty dresses already and it's getting old for all of them. Her sister walks closer to her and runs a hand down the dress to show her how nice it is. She looks at the tag and gasps with a smile.
"The color is aurora pink! That's basically your name! You have to try it on. Please! I won't try on another dress unless you try this on."
"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Jess mumbles so only Rory can hear. She rolls her lips to stop from chuckling.
"It's a really beautiful dress, you should try it on Gigi."
"This isn't really my color. Pink kinda washes me out, ya know? I like something bold and classic - like red or black. But this, would look so great on you!"
Gigi puts the dress in Rory's hands and impatiently waits for her to cave in. Jess nudges her leg and says softly, "try it on. She's right, it will look beautiful on you."
The look on his face easily convinces her. She nods and shoots him a sweet smile as she stands up to join her sister in the fitting rooms. Jess sits on one couch, Christopher on the opposite. It's one of only a handful of times in his life that he wishes he had brought his cell phone with him, just to have something to fiddle with and avoid any possibility of conversation with this man. Instead he stares at the ostentatious looking silk curtains that frame the entrance to where Rory and Gigi just went. His arms and legs are crossed, trying to use body language to guard him from Chris thinking they're friends.
"You and Gigi are right. Rory will look great in that dress. I always loved Lorelai in pink, and they're practically twins so…"
Jess barely holds back his eye roll at his ignorant rambling.
"I wouldn't say twins," he grumbles in response, not turning his attention away from where Rory will be coming out of.
"You know what I mean. Similar features. If I didn't know that I'm her father, I would think she was made in a lab with only Lorelai's genetics somehow. No sign of me on her."
This time Jess can't control the deadly look that he throws at Chris.
"When's the last time you even saw either of them? Lorelai could have all white hair by now for all you know."
Chris's face only shows his surprise for a moment before his normal, frustrating smile is back on his face.
"I do know that she would dye it if she had all white hair. So the point still stands."
"Uh huh. And when's the last time you saw Rory?"
For the first time that day, Chris's face drops completely.
"What's your problem? What did I do?"
Jess uncrosses his arms, bracing his hands on the couch as he turns towards him.
"Nothing. You did and you do nothing for Rory. And you don't seem to care or notice. That's the problem."
"Nothing? You think I've done nothing for her? I paid for Yale! That's not nothing."
Jess scoffs, "Don't act like money means anything to her. You just said she's like Lorelai, who happens to not give a fuck about it either. Paying for things doesn't make up for your absence."
Chris's face screws up for a moment, but then he's almost smiling.
"You're right. Lorelai doesn't care about money. That's why she's with that diner guy. You're related to him, aren't you? I knew your name sounded familiar. You got Rory in that car accident."
Jess takes a deep breath, wanting to handle this in a way that won't upset Rory; he has to be the bigger person, but that doesn't mean he has to be fake.
"You're right. I did get her in that car accident, and I still feel plenty of guilt about it. But, it was just that - an accident. Was your absence from her life an accident? You just accidentally forgot you had a daughter you were supposed to care about and help raise?"
His voice is steady, but his hands are shaking in frustration. He knows that his words hold double meaning, that his own issues with Jimmy are surfacing too. Because it's not fair that both men want to waltz back into their lives and pretend like there's an empty space that's been waiting for them, that now that they're ready to fill it they can just step right in.
Before Chris can get anything out in response, Rory steps out from the curtains shyly. Jess's eyes immediately go to her. She smiles bashfully in response as he takes her in, eyes roaming all over her.
"Too pretty for words," he finally says, smiling up at her, somehow pushing down the tense feelings from moments ago.
"You look beautiful, Ror."
Jess grimaces as he hears Christopher use a nickname for her, and one that Jess uses at that. Rory gives him a quick smile.
"Thanks dad."
Gigi comes out behind her in a long black dress.
"Doesn't she look great? I'm glad she found something she looks amazing in because I haven't!"
"Stop it honey, you look gorgeous. You can wear any dress at all, and you would look gorgeous."
Jess catches Rory's frown before she covers it with a smile.
"He's right. You should still pick the one you want most, but you do look beautiful in everything."
"You think so?" Gigi smiles, twirling around in her dress. Rory smiles for real this time and nods.
"Absolutely! You'll be the belle of the ball no matter what you wear."
Gigi grins wider and surprises Rory with a hug.
"It's so nice having a sister around," she then pulls away and frowns, "oh no! I just realized Caleb is going to be wearing a black tux. I can't wear black! We'll blend together in pictures. Ugh, okay back to red!" she turns around and stomps back to the changing rooms.
"Caleb?" Rory looks to her dad with an amused smile and an eyebrow raised. He rolls his eyes.
"Don't get me started. Totally not worth her time."
"I'm sure you think no boy is."
"Yeah, well. No boys are good enough for my girls," he teases. Jess scowls but only Rory notices. "That is a great color on you, by the way. I don't remember what color dress you wore to your prom. Your mom made it though, right?"
Jess's scowl is now mixed with a look of guilt as he looks up at Rory at the mention of prom. He then looks at Christopher.
"You don't remember, or you weren't around? Because she didn't go to prom."
"Jess…" Rory's voice is soft but pleading. Not wanting to get into this conversation, whatever it's about to be.
"Yes she did. Of course she did. Right?" he looks to his daughter for confirmation, but Jess speaks up again. Because he doesn't want Rory to deal with this alone, because he knows what this day is doing to her.
"She didn't go to prom because she was supposed to go with me, and I fucked up and couldn't get us tickets. For whose benefit are you trying to pretend like you've been in her life? Can't you see that those reminders are painful for her? Trying to act like you've been playing the dad role for the last thirty four years only feels good for you. You are so lucky that Rory is as kind and forgiving as she is. She owes you nothing, yet she's here, watching you be the parent she always wanted to someone else and listening to your false claims to her life. You're so fucking lucky."
Chris scoffs, "I'm so lucky? You're lucky that me and Lorelai didn't ostracize you from our daughter's life after you got her in that car accident! She was always careful and safe, until you stormed in and put her in danger."
"As if you had that kind of power! Lorelai, yes. Absolutely. I respect the hell out of her - lucky for me I guess, she happens to like me now. But you, no fucking way. You have no right to say that I'm bad for Rory when you only saw the tiniest sliver of our history, because, again, you haven't been around."
Rory watches the two, conflicted because it feels really good to have someone stand up for her. Especially someone that loves her like Jess. But, at the same time, it's not worth it to her to get into these conversations with her dad. He's taken his stance on things, that everything happened the way it should. And she's accepted that her life is okay without him, as she told Jess before. She doesn't know if she should stop them or not. Her eyes flit back and forth between both men as she considers what to do, then her sight settles solely on Jess. His face is set in anger and frustration, and while she would never want to be on the receiving end of that look, in this situation she finds it alluring. His beautiful crooked mouth is set in a deep scowl, his dark glare unforgiving as he stares down her father - it comes from a level of passion and care that she's never felt with anyone else before. Despite the tension in the room, it causes a fluttering in her stomach. She's pulled from her trance as Christopher decides to speak again.
"I may not have been around the whole time, but I've been around enough, and I know enough. I know who she could have been with, I watched an incredible man propose to her, someone that could have provided her with everything. Tell me Jess, could you have afforded an engagement ring at twenty-one years old? Any ring at all? Obviously you wouldn't have been able to get her a diamond the size that Logan did. Can you even afford one now? Or are you going to wait to marry her until you're fifty, like your idiot uncle?"
Rory sees Jess's face morph into something more furious, and she feels the same way inside.
Finally, she shouts at her father, "that's enough! Jess is right, you're acting like we have a great relationship and that you've been there for me. But you were only there for the times you wanted to be, which wasn't much. And now you have damaged our relationship more, possibly beyond repair. Because you know nothing about Logan or what he's put me through. And you know nothing about how Jess has been there for me and taken care of me and helped me live a life that I love. You're acting so childish and ignorant, when you should really be trying harder to make things better with me. If you even care to do that. I'm not going to stand here and listen to you disrespect Jess or me, or Luke. He's been more of a father to me than you have," she seethes those words, making sure they burn as much as she intended. She gets her answer as her father visibly flinches. More calmly, she continues, "I gave Gigi my number, and she can contact me whenever she wants and if I have to, I will put up with you too in order to spend time with her. But other than that, do not expect me to go out of my way to see you. Bye."
Rory spins around and grabs her clothes from the dressing room. Jess watches her form with a small but proud smile. She comes back out, still in the dress, and she realizes her mistake as she curses and goes to turn around again.
"Rory, it's okay," Jess calls after her, and she turns back, "I'll buy you the dress. I would have paid for it if we went to prom, so let me do it now. You should have it."
Her grin forms slowly, but appreciatively, and she walks over to him. He takes her hand in his and they head towards the front of the store without looking back at Christopher, who has called her name a couple of times. Jess walks her to an employee.
"We need to pay for this beautiful woman's dress," he states, squeezing Rory's hand. She blushes and the cashier smiles.
"Okay, that's two thousand euros."
Rory's jaw drops as Jess takes out a credit card. She grabs his hand.
"You know what, can you please add it to my dad's tab? He should have a couple of things up here for his other daughter already, her name is Gigi."
"Ah yes! Mr. Hayden. He will be paying?"
"Yes, he will. And," she turns and surveys a shelf of bejeweled, sparkly purses. She grabs a pink one that matches her dress, "put this on there too. Oh, and those sparkly earrings you have back there! Those are beautiful. You know what, two pairs of those. My mom would love them. Thank you, can you put those in a bag for me please?"
The cashier nods and packs everything up for her. Jess looks over at her with a big smirk, she smiles back.
"You want anything?"
He chuckles, "thanks for the offer, Miss Hilton. But I'm good. Nothing here is really my style."
She giggles and takes the bag from the cashier, and then they step out onto the busy streets of Paris. Rory shivers as a chilly breeze dances over her skin. Jess wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"I want to give you my jacket but first let me take pictures of you. It's not every day we're in Paris, or that you swindle your dad for an almost two thousand dollar dress. Come on."
Rory laughs as he leads her back to the monument where their morning went sideways.
"This okay? I thought we could rewrite the memories here. So when we look back at pictures one day, we can think about you and me and not whatever just happened," Jess proposes thoughtfully, hands rubbing her arms to keep her warm as they stand together on the outskirts of a crowd. She smiles warmly and nods.
"I love that idea. But you have to take some pictures with me too, we'll ask a nice looking stranger," she insists, remembering her grandmother's words from her thirty third birthday. He shakes his head but smiles and says, "okay. We'll take pictures."
Finally, hours later, after the morning with her dad and taking fun pictures, they get back to the hotel. Immediately the spark that lit a fire that morning at the coffee shop is back, as they hold on to each other tightly and kiss each other deeply in the elevator going up to their floor. Jess's hand has just found the top of the slit in her dress as the elevator opens. They break apart and Rory giggles in relief as she sees it's their floor; no one is getting on. She takes his hand and pulls him from the elevator to their room. He kisses the back of her neck while she fumbles for the room key. His hand goes over her shoulder and dips into the cowl neckline of her dress. She moans quietly and stills for a moment, enjoying the heat of his mouth on her skin and his fingers tracing her nipple.
"Open the door baby or this whole floor is about to get a show," he mumbles against her neck. Heat blooms all over her body and she quickly sticks the key card in. They slip into the room and without their bodies parting, Jess leads them to the desk near the window. Rory leans forward slightly to place her hands, and he matches the curving of her body to continue his hot kisses against her neck, shoulder and jaw. He grumbles pleasantly on the nape of her neck as she grinds against his body. She does it a few more times before standing up and turning around to face him. She grins coyly as she pushes him back until he's sitting on the bed.
"What do you have planned for me, sex kitten? I had an idea of my own that involved that desk."
He smirks, tilting his head towards it. She tugs at the belt loops on his jeans as she gets down on her knees in front of him. She wants to show him her appreciation for him standing up for her, because she grew tired a long time ago of doing that for herself when it comes to Christopher. She realizes maybe she shouldn't have accepted the way things are with him, maybe she should have pushed him to try harder in her life or at least make him more aware of what he was missing out on. She can't go back and change it, and doesn't think it should be her responsibility anyway, but she's grateful for the way Jess handled everything on her behalf. She knows he can read any expression or body language she conveys, even when it's just for a moment before she pretends to be happy for the sake of everyone else. There's so much to unpack when it comes to the relationship with her father and what he has and hasn't done. It's been easier for her to close the lid to that box and just pretend everything is fine when they're together. But just like that, Jess removed the lid and shoved the box into Christopher's hands, where it rightly belongs, for him to figure out. Every tough experience she has with this man by her side, it becomes clearer and clearer that he will always fight to protect her heart. It causes a deep stirring of affection throughout her, from her chest to in between her legs, and she wants to make him feel at least a small amount of how good that feels to her.
"We can do both. But I've been wanting to do this all day," she confesses, looking up at him through her lashes, bottom lip in between her teeth. He quickly pulls his pants down and she helps him get them all the way off. He strokes himself slowly as she kisses up his muscular thigh, humming in anticipation. She gently removes his hand from his erection, and he immediately places it in her hair, holding her gently at the top of her head. He closes his eyes for a moment, and it takes him by huge surprise when he feels her plush lips press against his sensitive sack. His leg twitches at the feeling and his eyes open as she kisses her way up to taking him in her mouth.
"Fuck baby, you learned a new trick?" he groans, and he can see her lips turn up around him, "you're amazing."
She hums as she moves her head up and down continuously. Jess's grip in her hair increases along with his groans. It's when she goes as deep as she can and sticks her tongue out to lick him at the same time, that he decides they need to change positions.
"Jesus, Rory. That's way too good, I don't want to finish yet," he pulls her head off him and she sits back with a satisfied grin. The hand in her hair moves down to her chin and he leans forward to kiss her.
"Where did you learn these new tricks, baby? You're making me crazy," he mumbles before standing up and guiding her to do the same.
"Just did a little research," she responds with a shrug, but the blush on her face deepens.
He walks her again to the desk, she puts her hands behind her to lean on it.
He smirks down at her, "Research? You did research on…oral sex?"
The blush migrates to her chest, and she answers with a breathy, "Maybe."
He kisses her again.
"I love you so much."
She grins, pleased by his appreciation.
"Just want you make you feel as good as you make me feel."
"There's no chance that you don't already do that," he mutters, then grips her hips and kisses her hard, "turn around so I can show you what I had in mind."
With excitement, she stands up and starts to take her dress off, but he stops her with a hand on the shoulder.
"Leave that on. Just in case. I don't want people seeing anything," he instructs, causing Rory to give him a bewildered look. He takes her by the hips again and spins her around, bending her over the desk. He moves her hair out of the way and places sweet kisses on her bare upper back, then he leans over her and opens the curtains that cover the hotel room window. They're on a high floor, and as Rory looks out she can see the streets of people and parts of famous historical monuments. Jess rests himself gently on her back, his hands work to bunch up her dress as he teasingly nibbles on her ear before whispering, "Now we both get to have beautiful views."
She gasps as he suddenly kneels behind her and starts licking between her legs. His hands grip the back of her thighs hard as he holds them apart so he can get more of his face on her. She moans and mutters curse words as he hungrily licks and kisses her. The fingers on her legs are so tight she knows there will be bruises. It feels so good mixed together with the hot, softness of his mouth on her; she can feel the love he wants to show her, the strength and the lust of it. Combined with looking out at a beautiful city and the small possibility someone might see them (and not know what's happening between her legs), she's wildly turned on. She takes short, quick breaths as he brings her closer to the edge, the throbbing of her clit becomes a needful ache and her moans sound like a high-pitched song. She squeaks in surprise when suddenly his mouth is gone, and he enters her swiftly. The power of his thrusts pushes her against the desk more, to the point that he can't quite reach where he wants to touch her.
"Up, up, up baby. Don't worry I'll keep you covered," he grunts out as he helps lift her legs so she's on all fours on top of the desk. He pulls her hips back until her entrance is at the perfect level for him to sink inside. He holds onto her dress at her waist with one hand and with the other he finds her swollen bundle of nerves. He rubs it in jagged circles as he grinds into her; she writhes beneath him, body shaking from the feel of his rough skin repeatedly on such a sensitive place.
He moves the hand at her waist up and wraps it around her chest, pulling her back into an almost seated position so he can press his body close to hers. Her hands come up and grab onto his arm across her chest, he kisses her ear and breaths her name in incoherent moans against it.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs against her, hitting a deep place inside her that momentarily takes her breath away. She clings tighter to his arm, digging her nails into him.
"So are you, I wanna see you. Not the city," she groans, and turns her head back towards him. He locks his lips on hers and increases the speed of his fingers until she's trembling in his arms and moaning out her orgasm into his mouth. He releases her face and puts his head next to hers until she's looking out the window again.
"I want you to look at the city, Rory," he mumbles, driving steadily into her as he gets closer to his own end, "I want you to look because I want you to know that I would give you every single thing out there if I could. The whole fucking city of Paris. The Eiffel tower, the Louvre, Notre-dame. Your favorite bakery. That hotel across the street. And this one too. All of it. Fuck, I'd give you France if I could. You deserve everything."
"I only want you," she replies, breathless as he repeatedly hits deep inside of her. Finally, he finishes with a shaking groan, holding her so tight to him that he's almost choking her. He softens his grip as his body steadies and kisses her on the head.
"I know,," he mutters in response to her words, "but I want you to know, that I would give you the world if I could."
"I know, Jess. I would do the same for you," she bows her head slightly to kiss his arm, then carefully asks, "this doesn't have anything to do with what my dad said, does it?"
Jess grimaces at the mention of him, "I'm glad we finished because that was definitely a mood killer."
She laughs, "I'm sorry. Just worried."
He kisses her head again and removes himself from her. He leans over the desk and grabs a couple of tissues to clean her up before spinning her around to face him.
"Nothing to worry about."
She looks up at him, skeptic look on her face, "are you sure? My dad was a jerk, and now that he has money, he seems to think it's the most important thing. Not that it's helped him in his love life at all…anyway, money doesn't matter to me."
"I know that, Rory," he squeezes her arms, "I know he was just trying to attack me because he had no defenses left for his bullshit. I'm sorry, by the way. For the way that all happened. I really tried to keep my mouth shut."
She smiles at his timid look, afraid that he screwed something up.
"Don't be sorry. Those are all things I would have loved to say to him, but it just seems pointless sometimes."
He nods, "Sometimes you need other people to fight for you. Like Luke has dealt with Liz on my behalf, like you have defended me to…everyone that used to hate me back in the day."
"No one ever hated you. Just misunderstood you."
"Not you."
"Nope. Not me," she grins and leans forward to kiss him, "thank you for fighting for me and my heart. You do a really good job of making me feel safe and loved."
The look he gives her in return for those words is indescribable. Full of pride, relief, love - a full spectrum of euphoric emotion. He takes a breath to calm his wild heart.
"You don't know what that means to me."
"Actually, I do. And that's part of why I learned those little tricks," she smirks, "I needed more ways to make you feel as amazing as you are."
He matches her smirk and raises his eyebrow.
"I'm dying to know how you did your research. Please tell me it involved watching dirty videos, because that is an image of you that will feed my imagination for a very long time."
She laughs and shakes her head, "No, sorry to disappoint."
"Darn," he clicks his tongue in faux disappointment, "how then? A naughty book?"
"I'll tell you, but don't make it weirder than it already is for me, okay?"
Both eyebrows raise at that.
"Don't tell me you hired a gigolo?"
"Only if it was Richard Gere," she giggles and shakes her head, "no. Actually I…asked Paris. Because she's a doctor so I assumed she would know the most sensitive spots and whatnot…"
Jess bites his bottom lip hard to keep his amused grin at bay.
"Wow," he mumbles through his teeth.
"I know, it's weird. I'm sorry, does it bother you that I talked to her about that stuff? Since obviously she knows it pertains to you."
He rolls his lips to stop laughing and shakes his head. He then clears his throat and calms his features.
"Not at all. I'm just surprised it doesn't bother you. I know how nosy she is."
She shrugs, "It was a little uncomfortable. But it was for you, and you loved it, so it was worth it."
"You didn't have to do that," he gives her a serious look now.
"I wanted to. Besides, I'm turning thirty five this year. I should really know how to give good…well, you know…by now."
He can't hold his amused chuckle now, "You were already amazing at it. But, thank you. It felt very good. In the future, you can just ask me what feels good, if you're comfortable with that. You don't have to go to Paris. Especially since you know she's going to ask you about how it went."
She sighs and rolls her eyes, "yeah, she's going to be relentless. Okay. I'll ask next time."
He nods and kisses her forehead.
"Do you want to change and go to that bookstore now?"
She nods, "Yes! Great idea. And I'm going to need another coffee, so I might as well get another croissant while we're there too."
"Might as well," Jess teases with a smirk. She kisses him once more before moving around the room to pick a new outfit. Jess puts his own underwear and pants back on. He leans against the desk and watches her get ready with a thoughtful look. She runs into the bathroom to freshen up quickly then comes back out and grabs her crossbody purse. She stands in front of Jess with an excited smile.
"Ready! You're going to love this bookstore. It gives me Truncheon vibes, except it's owned by women. So that sort of makes it cooler, sorry."
"Can't wait to see it," he replies with a chuckle and a small smile. He stands up straight but doesn't move right away. He opens his mouth, and nothing comes out at first. Rory looks at him curiously. He exhales and places his hands on her shoulders lovingly.
"I do have money for an engagement ring, Rory. If you want one."
Her face morphs into some unexpected mix of surprise and nervousness, and she hurriedly replies, "I don't need one, Jess. I told you not to listen to my dad. We haven't even celebrated our two year anniversary yet, and won't for another six months or so. No pressure."
The slight pang of hurt he feels surprises him, but he masks it with a soft smile and nod.
"I know. But if you want one, I'm just letting you know that I can afford it. And even if I couldn't, I'd find a way to get it for you."
Her face finally softens, and she smiles before kissing him gently.
"Thanks. That's sweet. We can revisit that one day," she grabs his hand and pulls him towards the door, "but for now, we need CCB."
"CCB?"
"Coffee, croissants and books!"
"Ah, yes. The French holy trinity."
"Exactly, I'm pretty sure it's inscribed on the Eiffel Tower."
"Sounds like a stretch, but I guess we'll find out when we go to see it tomorrow."
"Yep. I'm so happy you came to Paris!"
He takes in her excited energy as she presses the button for the elevator and bounces in place. He places a hand at the small of her back and kisses the side of her face.
"Me too. My mind really needed it. Needed you."
"I needed you too. It has felt extra difficult lately being apart," she admits with a sympathetic smile, "I wish you could travel everywhere with me."
He takes her hand as they get on the elevator.
"Maybe one day if Truncheon is doing really well I can. I can write and edit from anywhere," he suggests, looking down at her as he speaks. She grins.
"That's a nice thought. But that's your baby. You won't want to be away from it that much."
"You never know," he pulls her closer to him, "after all, you're my baby too."
She rolls her eyes playfully and laughs.
"That was so cheesy."
"So? You love cheese."
"I do. Just as much as I love chocolate croissants," she exclaims as they step out of the elevator and walk out of the hotel, "also your face and your mouth and your voice and your body would distract me way too much from my work."
That makes Jess smirk, wide and proud.
"Oh yeah?"
"Don't get a bigger head."
"You like my big head."
"Ugh the innuendos! I did not miss those."
"Yes you did. Don't lie."
She huffs out a sigh, "fine, I did. I miss everything about you when we're apart."
His smirk softens to a smile. He takes her hand and kisses it.
"We wouldn't be walking together on the streets of Paris to get coffee, croissants and books if it weren't for your job."
She takes a breath and looks around at their surroundings, the beautiful old buildings and the delicious smells of fresh pastries on every block.
"Yes. I know. It's worth it."
"And if it ever feels like it's not, we'll figure it out."
"Yes," she nods confidently, "we will."
It's the day before he is set to leave France that he finally decides to turn on his phone. He had stuck to nearby areas while exploring so he wouldn't need maps and found that in most shops and cafes he could get by without google translate. Rory has been out covering the protests all day, and Jess spent most of his day browsing a historical library.
She returns to the hotel early evening, and Jess sits lounging on the bed after a shower waiting for her. His phone is face down on the mattress next to him, vibrating with alerts from voicemails and text messages from the past week.
"Hey you," she walks up to the bed and gives him a kiss before setting her things down on the desk, "what did you do today?"
"Checked out a library. How were the protests today? You okay?"
She nods, "yeah, I'm okay. There were some injuries and arrests, but I was safe."
Jess exhales concern he didn't know he was holding in, "happy to hear that. You hungry?"
"Starving! But I need to write and shower before I can do anything else. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm intruding on your work. I'll get out of your way for a little bit. Meet me in the bar downstairs when you're done?"
He grabs his phone and gets up from the bed.
"You don't have to leave, it's okay. As long as you're quiet, and you tone down your handsomeness, I'll be fine and focused. Like maybe instead of wearing that perfectly fitted t-shirt that shows me every damn line on your stomach and practically strangles your biceps, you can throw on a big, baggy sweatshirt," she suggests, eyes shooting from place to place on his body, then she looks down, "those pants are hugging quite nicely too. But if you put sweatpants on that would also be a problem…maybe you should just get under the blankets on the bed. But then I'll be thinking about being in bed with you…"
Jess laughs at her musings before leaning forward to kiss her sweetly on the lips.
"Me and my distracting body are going to get out of your way. Meet us at the bar when you're done, or text me and I'll come up."
"Text you? Your phone has been off for days."
His eyebrows raise at that, unaware that she was aware, "I just turned it on. I'm reachable. Promise."
"Okay, and maybe later you can tell me what you've been hiding from on that phone too?"
He opens his mouth to argue, and then stops.
"Well, the list is endless. But…yes. We can talk later, Madame Marie."
She grins, "Great! That is plenty of motivation for me to get my work done and dust off my crystal ball. Go on, get out of here Hemingway. Drink your heart out."
He chuckles before kissing her once more and heading down to the hotel bar.
His phone sits burning a hole in his back packet. He doesn't want to face it, he wants to pretend his issues are far away in New York and unable to touch him here in this serene place with the love of his life. But at the same time, there's an incessant niggling that wants to know if his failure of a father actually kept a promise. What he will do with that information, he's not sure. The little boy inside him wants to be open to it, to having some semblance of a relationship with the man he wondered about for years. His more logical and less sentimental adult voice says there's no point now.
He takes a seat at the empty bar, in the corner so he only runs the risk of having to sit next to one person. He orders a bourbon, tapping out his nervous energy on the bar top as he waits. He nods to the bartender and gives him cash before he takes a gulp of his liquid courage. Then, he pulls the phone out of his back pocket and sets it in front of him. He scoffs and unlocks it when he sees one - just one voicemail from Jimmy. But then he berates himself because what was he expecting? The man with a pathological inability to be present to chase after him like he desperately cares? He feels foolish upon discovering this unconscious expectation of phone calls and messages, this dream of Jimmy trying hard and being willing to put himself out there.
"What a fucking joke," Jess mutters to himself before ordering another drink, uncertain if he means himself or his father. He glazes mindlessly over voicemails from Luke calling to ask about the trip, texts from Chris who is covering the shop and staying at the apartment, tons of messages from his sister who just got her first phone this past Christmas and has been bombarding him almost daily ever since. He manages to grin slightly when he sees a text from Lorelai with a picture of Rory as a baby and a message that says it's my motherly duty to embarrass my daughter in front of her boyfriend. I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to find the droopy drawers picture! He clicks on the photo to make it larger, and smiles at her cherubic little face. He finds himself wondering if that paradoxical dominant blue eyed gene would be present in their kids, or if his darker features will screw that up. Already he's tainting their children in his imagination, but he knows in reality it doesn't matter at all what they look like. How they act, if he feels ready to be a father or not once their born. None of that matters because the minute Rory is pregnant, he will be a father and he will do it proudly and try as hard as possible to do it well.
And he once again cannot fathom the way that both his father and Rory's completely abandoned that task. Even as a teenager, if he had somehow got her pregnant, he wouldn't have disappeared without at least trying. And he loved her, he loved her so much even then - he wants to believe that he would have stuck around based on that alone. But under the righteous thoughts in his head is a voice telling him that actually, he would have ran too. Because he would have felt terrible about ruining her life, and he can see how his young, immature mind would have convinced him that she and their child would be better off without him. This makes him feel distressed, and an unnecessary guttural guilt grows at this made up scenario because he does not want to be able to see Jimmy or Christopher's side of things in any sense, even in his twisted imagination.
In a somewhat desperate attempt to shift these bad feelings, he makes a fast decision and clicks on Jimmy's name to call him.
"Jess?"
He doesn't respond, as he doesn't even know what he wants to say. He just takes a loud breath.
"Weird time to call. I'm actually a few blocks from your store…er, business. I was going to just walk by and look inside. Didn't want to freak you out."
He swallows before he states in a harsh whisper, "I'm not there."
"Oh."
"I'm in Paris."
"Texas?"
"No."
"Huh."
"Yep."
He takes a long sip of bourbon as he waits for his father to say something.
"I'm assuming you didn't have this trip planned when I called you to tell you I'm coming to New York?"
"Nope. But the opportunity came up and I couldn't turn it down."
"Right. Just so happened to come up the same week I'm in your town."
"Wouldn't call New York 'my town'. It's a big place."
Jimmy grunts.
"I don't know why I'm surprised you're acting like this. It makes sense for you to take after me in one way or another."
That puts him just over the edge, and he roughly puts his now empty bourbon glass back on the bar.
"I'm not you! I'm fucking nothing like you!"
"That's easy to say when you don't know me, and don't want to."
"It's fucking audacious of you to say when you don't know me. And haven't wanted to for thirty five fucking years."
"That's not fair, don't forget that I tried to get to know you and even took you in for a few months when you were a teenager!"
"I was hardly a teenager, I was a fucking adult at that point, because I had to be. And you didn't want to take me in! Stop acting like you've done more than you have," he bellows out. As he waits for his father to say something in response, Jess notices the bartender staring at him, looking annoyed and slightly nervous. He gives an apologetic nod and quickly orders and downs another drink, before ducking outside of the hotel to finish the tumultuous call.
Finally, Jimmy deduces in a rough voice, "Guess you're not ready to forgive me yet."
Jess scoffs and unleashes his frustration completely on him.
"There's nothing to forgive and there's nothing to forget because there's nothing to fucking remember! You were absent. You weren't there. You're just another person in the world. I don't need to forgive strangers. We have no relationship because of you, and it's not fucking fair that you think you're entitled to one now!"
"Jess-"
"No. Don't. You know, if things had gone differently, I would be parenting a child that's not mine right now. And I would be doing it happily. I never had a thought of not sticking around. I was fully ready to take care of a kid that no one expected me to take care of. Because it would have been a part of the woman I love, and any piece of the woman that I love is a part of me. I am nothing like you."
His heart is racing as finishes his tirade, he's attracted attention from a few people passing by, but he couldn't care less. The three bourbons he drank far too quickly burn like fire in his stomach, and his vision is starting to blur on the edges. He backs up against the wall of the hotel and slides down into a sitting position on the sidewalk. Phone still attached to his ear as he waits for a response, he holds his spinning head in his free hand. He curses the annoying fact that his mind isn't even drunk or fuzzy, his thoughts are sharp and bright. It's just his body that's feeling the effects.
Moments later Jimmy sighs on the line.
"I don't know what to tell you, Jess. I didn't have that with your mom. I'm sorry. We were young, barely, if at all, in love. The pregnancy was a total shock and scared the shit out of me. There wasn't enough between us for me to make the decision to do the right thing. It just wasn't like that for me. But…with Sasha it is. Which is how I ended up with a step kid. Because she came with the woman that I love. So, I do get that."
The fight in him has diffused into silent anguish. Because, somehow, he does understand what he's saying. It's why he never had unprotected sex until Rory. He wouldn't have been able to handle that with someone he didn't love either.
"I'm sorry that it wasn't with Liz. I really am. But, I hope you understand, it wasn't just out of fright and selfishness. I didn't think I would be any good as a father, or as a partner to your mother. I just didn't see how your life would be better with me in it. Even knowing what I do now Jess, I don't think my presence would have made a difference. I was a mess too. For a long time. Did the drinking thing, even got into drugs. It…would have been worse for you, I think. I would have been absent in a different way."
"I wouldn't have had to deal with the abusive boyfriends," he mumbles in response.
Jimmy sighs regretfully, "I know this is dark and horrible, but that's probably not true either. There's no way Liz and I would have stayed together even if I stuck around. Like I said, it just wasn't like that between us. It wasn't this big, unconditional love. It was just two lonely teenagers with too much freedom and time on their hands. It wasn't like we talked about getting married one day or anything like that."
Getting tired of the conversation, and tired of feeling pangs of understanding for his father, he replies, "I'm surprised you got married at all."
It makes Jimmy chuckle, and instead of irritating Jess, it relaxes him.
"Me too. But, when you know you know. It just…hit me one day. I'm a very nontraditional person, as you probably can tell. Marriage sounded like a load of crap pushed on us by society to spend a bunch of money and combine our lives and force a woman to take my name. My name, as if that's worth anything. But, after years of you know, hanging out with a lot of hippies and having all this love for Sasha that I wanted to do something more permanent with, it came to me. No need for a huge wedding, no need for her to take my name. It was just for us. For our love."
"God, I think I might puke from all that sweetness."
"I know. It's weird for me too."
Jess silently thinks over Jimmy's words, about his different view than Rory's father's. It's not that he hasn't thought of marriage with Rory before, he's thought of many different versions of life with her. But it's not something she's plainly expressed interest in, and the look on her face when he brought up buying a ring would have him believe she really isn't interested. And he'll always follow her lead on things like that, but the bite of rejection slowly gnaws at him.
He decides to ask, "Was Sasha receptive to it right away?"
"Not exactly. She was suspicious. thought I did something really wrong and was trying to make up for it. And she was never eager about marriage either. But eventually I came home with a ring to show her how serious I was, and she finally believed me. Then she was very receptive."
Jess takes a breath, and decides he's done having serious conversations with his wannabe father for today.
"And now she gets half the hot dog stands when you get divorced."
"I'm sure that was a major selling point."
He starts to feel more of the effects of the rations of bourbon sitting in his stomach. Nausea swirls and he just wants to lay down suddenly.
"I gotta go."
He hangs up before Jimmy can respond. He slowly stands up and carefully walks back into the hotel and gets on the elevator. He drags himself to their room, and curses when he remembers that he's not supposed to be bothering Rory. So, he crouches down and sits against the wall outside the door. He puts his head in his hands and closes his eyes for what feels like a moment before he hears a sweet voice saying his name. Then he feels a familiar and welcome touch on his shoulder. He hums, comforted by the feeling and slowly opens his eyes.
"Are you okay? How long have you been sitting out here?" Rory is kneeling down at his level, looking inquisitively all over his face. His mouth feels dry, and he has to cough before he speaks.
"Don't know. Drank some bourbon too fast and needed to rest."
He can hear himself mumbling, sounding slightly out of it. Her eyebrows raise in concern.
"What happened?"
He just shakes his head in response.
"Jess…" she looks him over and can tell he's not in the mindset to talk about it. She stands up and holds a hand out to him. He takes it and pushes himself up and off the wall. Wordlessly she opens the hotel room door and walks him inside and over to the bed.
"Why don't you lay down? I'll go out and grab us dinner."
He shakes his head and goes to argue, not wanting to ruin their night, but the persistent throbbing in his head changes his mind. He flops flat against the bed and covers his face with his arm.
"Sorry," he rumbles out, "know I'm ruining the trip."
"You're not," her voice is soft but insistent. She places her hand on his arm, gently pulling it off his face to look him in the eyes and say, "you're not ruining anything. Just rest and I'll be back."
He swallows before mumbling, "I get why you don't want to marry me. I get it. It's okay."
She gasps, "I didn't say that!"
"Didn't have to. I can tell. It's okay."
"Jess," she admonishes him, gripping onto his hand, "of course I want to marry you one day. But the way you brought it up…it wasn't right. That's not how we have a conversation about marriage. Not because my idiotic father tried to use it against you. And especially not in the city that he somehow talked my mother into marrying him…you probably didn't know that part. I should have mentioned it," she swallows, loosening her grip on his hand, "Any romantic ideas I had about Paris are overshadowed by that fact. It's just not the time or place to discuss it, Jess."
The weight in his chest doesn't lessen, but the reason for its existence changes. He looks up at her with a pained frown as she continues.
"And the way you said it didn't make me feel like you want it either. It sounded like…you wanted to make sure you were fulfilling some sort of expectation. I want you to ask me when you feel passionate about it. You understand what I'm saying? I don't want it to feel like a whimsical decision. And I don't want it to feel like it's an obligation. Because it's not."
Even in his hazy state, memories of her past become clear. He thinks of Logan, and the way his proposal made her feel. The first time Luke and Lorelai were supposed to get married, and it got majorly screwed up. And he thinks of how weird it must have been for her when her parents finally did decide to get married, so much later in life and after Lorelai had given up on the actual love of her life. And he remembers in her book, that she had other confusing experiences with marriage, like her mother running away from marrying her teacher, even though she claimed they were in love. It's no wonder the subject isn't an easy one for her, and he hears her words loud and clear - the way he brought it up wasn't right. He feels exasperated with himself suddenly, and equally exhausted.
He covers his face with his hands and huffs out an, "I'm so sorry."
It's quiet around him, but then he feels her lips on the back of his hand, placing a forgiving kiss there.
"I'm starving so I'm going to grab us dinner," she stands up, "get some rest. Sleep a little if you can, I think it will help. I'll close the blinds and put some music on for you."
The pressure in his head rushes to his eyes, and he thinks he might cry. Her endless kindness to him unravels his soul in these moments. The moments where he knows he can do better and be better, but she doesn't put that pressure on him because she can tell he's struggling. She just knows when he needs gentle love and care. The sounds of The Velvet Underground's "Pale Blue Eyes" fill the room, and he hears the door close. He closes his eyes and tries to do as Rory suggested and rest.
...
He wakes up with his stomach grumbling, the smell of fresh food in the air. He opens his eyes to see Rory eating a burger in the chair next to the bed. She smiles softly around her bite of food.
"Were you watching me sleep?" he mumbles, rubbing his hand over his face. She chuckles.
"Maybe. I got you a burger and fries too. And a salad, in case you wanted some more nutrients."
His lips perk up, "I love that even in France you eat burgers for dinner."
"I stay true to myself. Being adventurous doesn't always pay off, and then I'm hungry still and need to find new food."
"Well, you're the traveling superstar so you would know."
"Right," her smile is tight, "this is from Les Deux Magots, by the way. Guess who ate there?"
"Hmm," he ponders as he sits up in bed and takes the bag of food from her, "Pepe Le Pew?"
An unexpected giggle escapes her, and she has to cover her mouth to stop her food from coming out.
"Maybe, but I was going to say Hemingway."
Jess's eyebrows raise, "Really? Cool. I'm surprised you would support such an establishment."
"Well, Simone de Beauvoir canceled him out."
"Oh, I see," he nods as he takes a bite of his food, and makes a face, "and I can see how this place could have inspired existential thought. Why is this burger so dry?"
She laughs and shrugs, "Probably because it's an American food in Paris. I got extra cheese on mine, so I think that covered up any faults. The fries are excellent though."
He puts down the burger to eat fries instead and nods.
"Yes, they are. Did you get dessert?"
She shakes her head.
"Good, I would love to take you out somewhere when we're done. Sorry we didn't make it out for dinner."
"You don't need to apologize for that."
He turns his hand up and shrugs, "I've got plenty of other things to apologize for, take your pick."
"Jess…we need to talk," Rory says, expression soft but serious. His face drops at those words, and he has to push his food away from him because he's lost his appetite completely.
She moves her food to a side table and gets up to sit next to him on the bed. She looks him in the eyes and takes his hand. He holds on to her delicately, willing her to go easy on him with whatever she's about to say. His chest heaves with a heavy breath.
"I'm going to fly back home with you tomorrow."
He blinks, not expecting those to be her words.
"You're done with work here?"
She shakes her head.
"No, but I'm coming home with you. And when I get back, I'm going to talk to my work about taking shorter assignments, or at least less frequent."
"Why would you do that?" he asks, looking over her, "are you okay?"
She sighs and smiles sympathetically at him, "I'm okay. You're not."
His whole body deflates, his face a mix of confusion and discomfort, "I'm fine, Rory. You don't need to do that. I'm okay."
"Jess, you're not okay. You've been struggling, and I understand why you didn't tell me how hard things have been but I'm aware of it now. I'm not going to let you deal with it all alone."
The discomfort grows and he says adamantly, "Rory, do not give anything up for me. This is your life, you love your job and you love traveling. Nothing needs to change! Especially not for me."
She exhales a frustrated sigh, "Can you step out of your perfect, supportive boyfriend role for this conversation please? I know how amazing you are, and I know you want me to do what's best for me, but right now we are talking about you. Whether you like it or not, and I can tell that you don't, this conversation is about you. And I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable but you can't keep pretending everything is okay when I can so clearly see it's not. Please, Jess. Think about yourself and be honest. Things would feel easier if we were together more, right? Or at least if we know my work trips will always be a month or less, with time in between at home. If we had a more…reliable schedule. Right?"
He takes a breath as he thinks over her words. He places his head in his hands.
"Of course it would be easier. But -"
"No, don't negate your words. You're allowed to admit that. And to be honest, I feel the same way. I love my job, but I wish I had more time with you too. It seems to be getting harder as time goes on rather than easier," she confesses quietly.
He removes his head from his hands and turns towards her again. He regards her, though her facial expression reveals nothing beyond the meaning of her words. He clears his throat.
"Jimmy is in New York this week. When he called me about the book, and asked me to try and forgive him, he told me he would be around, and he would call me. I knew I couldn't face him without you, and when you called and said you wouldn't be back and invited me here…I couldn't resist."
She nods as she takes a deep breath.
"That's why your phone has been off all week."
He nods.
"I didn't want to face him and didn't want to admit that I had done what he's so good at and ran away."
"It's not the same thing, Jess. At all. First of all, he didn't even come out only to see you. You were like a…side quest. So, he wants you to try and be the bigger person and forgive him and see him, but meanwhile he has a security blanket. It doesn't sound like seeing you would have made or broken his trip. You deserve better than that."
Gradually, a comforting tingle fills his chest as she speaks. She's putting words to his private feelings, his warring thoughts.
"Second, you're not running away. You're spending time with me instead of waiting around anxiously for him to prove himself in some way. You're doing what feels right for you, and that is okay."
Jess looks at her with tired eyes, but the tiniest smile of gratitude graces his lips.
"You know, you told my dad the other day that I owe him nothing. You don't owe yours anything either. Don't feel guilty that you're not ready to deal with him. He sprung this on you, and while you were already dealing with crap from other people."
He takes in her words, and after a moment, reaches out to pull her into his arms. He kisses her head.
"I have missed you. A lot."
She moves her head to look at him, "I've missed you too."
"I'm not sure what I want to do about Jimmy," he admits after a few minutes of silence.
"That's okay. You don't have to figure it all out right now, or by yourself," she takes his hand and holds it. His face changes to a look of regret.
"I'm still not comfortable with you doing this for me."
"Stop," she insists fiercely, then kisses him softly, "let me take care of you, like you always take care of me. I know you've had to deal with tough things alone for most of your life, but you don't have to now. You have me."
He is overcome with warmth, her words wrapping protectively around his heart. He moves his hands to hold her face and pull her close for a deep kiss of gratitude. His hands stay there, tenderly rubbing circles on her skin as they pull apart.
"I want to marry you, Rory. I really do. But I heard you. I will…bring it up properly, at another time, in a better location."
Her pink lips perk up into a delighted smile.
"Thank you. And please know that I want that too. We're just not there yet," she half shrugs, "I hope you understand."
He nods, and kisses her cheek, "I do."
"Of course you do. That's part of why I love you."
He takes her hand and places it on his chest over his heart, "every piece of you that you've given me lives in here. I hope it helps me understand you always."
As he releases her hand, he flips it over to place a loving kiss on the inside of her wrist. Her heart flutters, her pulse picks up.
"I love you. I promise this stuff you're going through will feel better. I'll make sure of it."
"It already does," he smiles and kisses her wrist once more, "what kind of dessert do you want? Or should I says desserts?"
She grins wide, "I'm so glad you asked. Since this is my last night here too, we are going to have to do it all. Crème brulee, chocolate soufflé, eclairs, macarons, profiteroles, and of course, more croissants."
He sighs, but he can't quell his wide amused grin.
"Your wish is my command. Even if you get sick."
Somehow her grin grows wider, "you'll be there to take care of me if I do."
He kisses her head and promises, "Always."
