36:Surprises

Jon slipped out of the bathroom so the counselor could have a minute to straighten her panties and catch her breath before making an appearance.  As his damn luck would have it, he almost ran into Luke, who was standing on the wall across from the bathroom.  With his arms crossed and a smug smile in place, he made a show of looking at the bulge behind Jon’s zipper.

“Not a motherfucking word Del Vecchio.”

He had no interest in hearing about the future or a woman’s potential place in it – any woman.  The ink was barely dry on his divorce decree.  He sure as hell wasn’t taking applications for Dorothea’s replacement, and if he was, the counselor’s would be in the wastebasket with lighter fluid and a match.  It didn’t matter that they liked the same pizza or favored the same freaking charities or that fireworks exploded when they touched.

It was a vacation fling, dammit.  That’s all!

“I wouldn’t dream of it.  You’re saying more to yourself than I ever would.”

His chin tipped defiantly up at the taller man who spoke so condescendingly.  “I like you, man.  Don’t make me tell you again to mind your own fucking business.”

Midway through that threat, the bathroom door opened behind him.

“What’s going on?” the counselor demanded as she stepped around Jon to look back and forth between the two men.  Neither of them spared her a glance, though.  They were fixed on each other and making their sets of silent threats. 

Jon was the one who ultimately answered her with a flat, “Nothing.”

Luke affirmed that with his own quiet, “Nothing.”

Her intelligence was something Jon had never questioned.  Her ethics and bitch factor, yes, but not her intelligence.  There was good reason for that as she quickly summed up the scenario before her and came to some very astute conclusions.

“Him?” she asked the single-word question to Jon, who pushed his hands into his pockets without a word.  “Is he what had you backpedaling?”

“Backpedaling?”  Now Luke was the one posing one-word questions and darting his eyes.

Sibling arguments could escalate into World War III with very little effort, and Jon had no interest in making his house the battleground for these two.  It would be in everyone’s best interest if he tried to smooth things over with the hot-headed woman who was about to go at it with her brother – “try” being the operative word. 

“Let it go, Counselor.  You won.”

“That’s irrelevant if this dumbass has been sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

She wasn’t a diminutive woman, but she was still a good head shorter than the lanky man whose face she glowered up into.  This fearless female would fight a buzz saw without a second thought and, in Jon's personal experience, odds were decent that she wouldn’t lose.   

“Chiara.  I said to let it go.”  The dictatorial decree lured angry eyes from Luke to him, and he lifted a meaningful brow.  “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Talking to her that way was risky and Jon knew it as well as he knew the number of platinum records hanging in his office.  She was always ripe for an argument and that level of high-handedness could set her off like a powder keg, even though it wasn’t his intent.  He was only trying to jar things into perspective. 

What remained to be seen was which she would deem more important. Finding the source of the undercurrents between him and Luke?  Or that sunset ride she took so much effort to manipulate him into?

Taking half a step back, she pitched a lesser scowl in his direction before resolutely informing Luke, “I don’t know what the deal is here, but you just extended your stay on my shit list, big brother.”

I’ll be damned.  Is she actually going to listen to me?

By all appearances, Luke was just as flabbergasted by her compliance.  Shaggy dark locks shook with a bewildered nod when he pointed finger at Jon.  “Not like you.  You.”

J J J J J

Jon’s house was beautiful. 

It wasn’t beautiful in a way that spoke of wealthy elegance and interior designers.  Wood floors were simply yet fully restored, as were stairs, bannisters and crown molding.  Furnishings that also leaned heavily toward wood and the surrounding classic décor were modern yet perfectly suited to the era of the house. 

From the half bath on the ground floor to the third floor attic that had been converted into a long, open dormitory-style loft for the kids, it was the classic Hamptons home.  Top to bottom, bottom to top, it was steeped with the feel of history and family. 

Charlie loved it. 

She dreamed this for her brownstone.  If it ended up with half the character of Jon’s house, it would be worth every penny and hour invested.

“Whoever you had did good work,” her asshole brother remarked as they circled back to the kitchen.  “All new, but with the original flavor that preserves the integrity of the place.  Nice, man.”

“Thanks.  I like it – enough to pay for it a second time.”  Bitter blue eyes cut in her direction.

They weren’t as icy as they had once been, but he clearly harbored ill feelings about this house’s place in his divorce settlement.  Now that she’d seen it, so did Charlie.  This house was a place where memories were made and lived on for generations to come.  It needed a family like his, no matter how infrequently they all gathered here. 

Yet she had callously pushed and prodded in an effort to strip that from him.

“I’m sorry.” 

The impulsive apology slipped out before she could stop it, and Charlie thought that she should perhaps be concerned by all the surprising things he was provoking from her tonight.  First there had been the acquiescence to a non-sexual demand that went hand in hand with a willingness to temporarily overlook something she was curious as hell about and now… regret.  Regret that she was openly giving voice to.

From his position leaned against the kitchen island, Jon fixed distrustful eyes upon her.  Her brother’s questioning gaze she completely ignored.  Based on Jon’s behavior, there was an excellent reason to be pissed at him, even if she didn’t know what it was yet.

“I’m glad you’re keeping it,” Charlie forged ahead with her head held high.  “But I’m sorry it isn’t under the circumstances you would’ve liked.”

Obscuring shadows fell over blue irises, darkening them by at least two shades and effectively veiling his thoughts.  She couldn’t read anything of them when he offered a nod that was as tight as his jaw.  “Thank you.”

She was done for tonight.  Awkwardness had abounded during the last hour and Charlie had stomached her fill of it.  It was time to leave the house that belonged to a man she was starting to see as something other than an insanely good roll in the sheets.

Returning the nod with a clipped one of her own, she said, "Thanks for the tour, but I should probably take my gang and go now.  We’re leaving tomorrow and have packing to do.”

“Uh, hang on a second, Counselor.”  Glancing to his right, he took a deep breath and requested, “Luke, could you excuse us for a sec?”

The smirk on her brother’s face made her want to kick him, but he kept a wide berth while bypassing her to get to the kitchen door.   When reaching his destination, he pivoted on his heel and pointed to Jon.  “You, man.  Seriously.”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

Hearing him growl at someone else with such animosity had Charlie biting back a smile.  Maybe she should feel guilty about that, but the way she figured it, amusement was better than the awkwardness that was multiplying like Gremlins in an unexpected summer shower.

She shifted from one sandaled foot to the other beside the wooden kitchen table, and Jon switched from leaning on the island to the stainless steel refrigerator.  While waiting for the door to close securely, he folded his arms and crooked one leg so that the tips of his toes were resting atop the opposite foot.

“Ten-thirty work for you?”

Oh, that was all.  He wanted to discuss details of their hook-up later tonight.  The knowledge dissipated the awkwardness quickly enough, and Charlie relaxed as she nodded. 

“Fine.  Where?”

“Trailer by the pool.”

Oh, joy.  The same locale where she had been summarily dismissed in favor of a hot shower.  That sounded like loads of fun.

It will have privacy and a naked Jon.  Does anything else really matter?

Not really, no.  The way things were going tonight, the more tawdry the better.  Screwing in an oversized closet would have her focused on body parts instead of the man behind the body parts, and that’s exactly what she needed in order to enjoy her vacation sunset.  Anything else was unnecessary and potentially bothersome.

“Okay.”

At her agreement, Charlie expected him to unfolded his arms and head for the door.  His stillness in watching her was unexpected and, if pressed, she would say that he was weighing something in his mind. 

Cue the awkwardness encore. 

“Was there something else?” she asked reluctantly, not really wanting to know.

He lifted his chin with a sigh.  “I was trying to decide whether I wanted to say it or not.  It’ll piss you off, but I’m not the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut because I’m afraid of an argument.”

“I never dreamed you were,” Charlie snorted.  Of all the things in the world he might be, that one never crossed her mind. 

“Good.”  Lifting one hand, he curved the fingers over his Adam’s apple as he spoke and the motion drew her attention.  His hands were square and broad, with blunt fingertips, but there was something a little bit erotic about the way he stroked his neck.  “That apology thing was nice, but I don’t want you to think it changes anything.  Nor does the fact that we’ve been fucking.  The way you do your job is still shitty and borderline unethical, and I just wanted to make my stance on that clear.”

Wait.  What?

As her thoughts were rudely snatched away from erotic movements, she immediately acknowledged that he was right.  What he had to say pissed her off – big time.  The kicker of it was that she was less angry about what he said than the grain of truth behind it.

You apologized, Charlie.  Sure, you could explain the reasons behind what you’ve done, but why bother?  This ends tonight and he won’t care, anyway. 

Damn if that didn’t hurt just the teeny tiniest bit, although she would never let him know it. 

Straightening her shoulders, she plastered on a tight smile and was as cordial as she knew how to be.  “Thanks for the clarification.  Does that leave fucking still on the docket for tonight, or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.”  Charlie gathered up her awkward Gremlins, tucked away any vulnerability that might be oozing out, picked up her big bag of brass balls and prepared to get the hell out of Dodge.  “Guess I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he replied evenly.  “Oh, and park down the block.  Your car is pretty damn noticeable.”

35:Normal

The girls were a delight to play with and Charlie envied the simplicity of what made them happy.  A couple of dolls, a fairy voice and their imaginations brought them more fulfillment than she’d experienced in decades.  Humans were far too interested in becoming adults, in her opinion, and didn’t realize the problem with that until it was too late.  They shortchanged themselves of the magical childhood years and spent the rest of their lives wishing to go back.

That’s awfully deep for playtime, Charlie.

“Okay you beautiful Bongiovi dolls,” Desiree announced her arrival.  “It’s time to get ready for bed.  Thank Miss Charlie for keeping you company and pick up your things.  Your bubble bath awaits.”

“Oh my goodness, I had fun with you girls.” She hugged both of them with genuine warmth.  “Thank you sooo much for letting me play!”

“Can you again tomorrow?” Micah Jane was just as much of a go-getter as her Uncle Jon, even though the impact of it was softened by childish sweetness and the Tinkerbell doll hanging in the crook of her arm. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to go home.  My vacation is over,” she apologized with a frown.

The little girl’s face puckered into a pout and the baby scowl was so reminiscent of Tony that Charlie couldn’t help but laugh to herself.  This child was going to be a volatile Italian and not a genteel Southerner like her mama.

“Micah Jane, you go on with Aunt Des,” that genteel woman coaxed.  “We’ll see Miss Charlie again soon.  Maybe she can come to our house for Daddy’s birthday party.”

Smoothing down her skirt and rising to her feet, Charlie was hesitant to acknowledge the suggestion.  Now knowing for certain that Lilah’s family didn’t appreciate the invitations she issued and realizing how awkward it could be running into Jon at a family event after their fling was done, Charlie thought it best to let it pass.

Unaware of the potential for awkwardness, Lilah reiterated the proposal once the girls had trudged away with Desiree and left the two of them to gather doll clothes and shoes.  “I was serious ‘bout that.  I’d like to consider us friends now, no matter what goes on with that butthead brother-in-law of mine.”

“That’s very sweet, and we are friends, but I just can’t commit to that right now.  I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” the German Shepherd acquiesced with a sweet smile as she accepted Charlie’s bundle of doll accessories to tuck into the case she held.  “It’s not until October, so you have some time to think about it and… see what happens between now and then.” 

Nothing was going to happen between now and then other than her firm separation from the Bongiovis, Charlie was sure.  In the interest of her newly forged friendship however, she agreeably inquired, “Tony’s birthday is in October?  So is mine.”

“Oh?”  This news seemed to please Lilah.  “His is the eleventh.  What day is yours?”

Laughing at the irony of it, she confessed, “The eleventh.”

“Well, that settles it!  You’re comin’ and we’re celebratin’ you, too.  Micah Jane is gonna be so tickled.”

“No promises.”  Charlie delivered the warning firmly, following it up with, “And that was a low blow bringing M.J. into it.”

“What?”  Eyes sparkling with mischief as she zipped up the doll case, Lilah tried her best to convey a look of innocence.  “Just because my baby girl will probably spend a week makin’ you a present shouldn’t make you feel obligated.  Not at alllll.”

Feeling those tenacious teeth sink into her figurative leg, Charlie decided that she’d been right.  Cute and fuzzy but fiercely isnistent, Lilah Bongiovi was definitely a full-blooded German Shepherd.

J J J J J

Jon was sitting amongst a group of college-age kids that had no idea why he wanted to hang out with them.  Hanging out wasn’t exactly what had driven him to poolside where they all sprawled over the lounge chairs.  He had been more in search of an escape from the three matchmaking stooges that were trying to pit him with a woman he despised outside of bed.

That’s why he was perched on a corner of one of those loungers, currently offering to run with Caleb the next morning. 

“I know you mentioned running when you first got here.  Why don’t you meet me in the morning and we’ll kick each other’s butts down the beach?”

Eyes that were the same cocoa shade as the counselor’s darted questioningly to Jesse and then Noah, perhaps to gauge their opinion on the matter.  Either he didn’t see anything to warn him off or he decided to go with the flow because he gave Jon a negligent shrug and agreed.   “Sure.  What time?”

“Eight.  By the main beach entrance.”  Jon swept an open hand across the group that included his two eldest, Noah and Sydney.  “And anybody else that wants to come is welcome, of course.  Matt runs, so he might tag along.”

No one eagerly jumped at the opportunity, but he hadn’t expected them to.  Jon was only trying to be polite and perhaps distract himself from the reality that he was actively choosing to bond with one of the counselor’s kids.

I liked the kid before I knew who he was.  It has nothing to do with his mother or any motherfucking future.

“Jon?  I’m ready for that tour of the house whenever you are.”

Based on the content of what was said, Jon knew who it was, but hearing his name falling from her lips in that tone of voice set him on edge.  Before that moment, he was pretty sure the only time the counselor had even spoken his name was during sex and, by comparison, the quiet normalcy of it now was disconcerting.

They didn’t do normal.  They did angry sex.  It was their families that were trying to instigate normal, and the reminder, along with his brain’s taunt about bonding with Caleb, sent his temper flaring anew.  In his current state of agitation, he was going to start an argument with her so that things were back to their normal. 

Getting away from other people was an excellent idea. 

“Now’s fine.”  Neutrality was the name of the game in the presence of their kids, whom he smiled at when standing.  “You have all been reprieved from the old guy.  Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, he staged his exit through the waist-high gate to where the counselor waited on the other side and swept an open hand toward the house.  She understood that he was encouraging her to lead the way, and when she did, he fell in step beside her. 

“Hi,” she greeted quietly after they’d covered a few feet of lawn. 

It was almost as off-putting as the way she’d said his name.  Normal.

“We’re not doing this tonight.” 

Yes, he was being cantankerous and a general all-purpose asshole, but he could no longer separate this woman – whom he had extensive carnal knowledge of – from the one everybody was pushing at him as a… girlfriend.  It was royally pissing him off that his continuing carnal education had been spoiled by those jackasses sitting at the table with the little Kentucky kook.

“Not doing what?  Looking at the house?”  For once, she didn’t seem inclined to jump down his throat.  Her question was merely a question, and that made him mad, too.

“Each other,” he ground out while keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

They were quickly approaching the jackasses and the kook, and his plan was to bypass them as much as possible by going in through the kitchen.  Once he and the counselor were inside, away from prying eyes and nosy ears, he would clarify tonight’s plans – or new lack thereof – in private.

“Where ya goin’?”  Lilah, with whom he was more irritated than anyone, called when she caught sight of them trying to sneak in the back door. 

Maybe it was only his irritation that filled her question with mocking and innuendo, but he heard it as plainly as the cricket chorus that was tuning up for the night.  If he spoke to her, it wasn’t going to be nicely, so he kept his mouth shut and left the counselor to explain the house tour.

“Oh, hey.  You might if I tag along?  I’d love to see what the inside looks like, from a professional standpoint.” Automatically assuming that he would be welcome, Luke didn’t wait for an answer but moved to join them.  

Once again, damage control became the counselor’s responsibility, because Jon’s hand was already on the kitchen door.  “Not yet,” she curtly told her brother, still noticeably put out with him.  “He’s going to get me something for a headache first.  Give us five minutes.”

Jon appreciated that none of them were in his line of vision as he passed into the modernly traditional kitchen.  If their expressions held half the mocking and innuendo as he’d heard in Lilah’s question, he would advise them all to go directly to hell.

The soft clop of sandals on hardwood told him that she was following as he resolutely made for the downstairs guest bath.  It was the most feasible location to find medicine for her manufactured headache and would offer the desired privacy.   He waited for her to precede him into the compact half-bath and stepped in to close the door behind them.

“What the hell is your problem?” she demanded without hesitation, rotating as he stepped around her to lean against the sink.  “I have been on my best behavior tonight.  There’s a damn padlock on my muzzle, so it can’t be something I’ve done.”

Her heated demand and confrontational posture had Jon’s anger adrenaline straining to convert into another kind of adrenaline.  He was sorely tempted to shut her mouth by covering it with his, but that wasn’t going to cancel tonight’s rendezvous.  It would just bring it to the here and now, with only four minutes until her brother came barging in.

Not enough time, and you sure as hell don’t need to add fuel to his “my sister needs a guy like you” fire.

“I’m not interested in screwing around tonight.”  The declaration was as flat and cold as the marble countertop on which he leaned.  “Vacation fling is over.”

Silky mahogany waves swayed with the instantaneous shake of her head.  “The hell it is.  I don’t care what’s got you in a snit.  You promised me once more, and you’re not backing out now.”

God, it was so easy to get wound up with her.  Even a mild-mannered Englishman would find himself enraged by her antagonistic personality.  A hot-blooded Italian didn’t stand a damn chance of having a reasonable discussion. 

“Or what?” he scoffed.  "You gonna sue me for breach of verbal contract?” 

“Worse than that.”  She closed the short distance between them with a single step and clamped her hand over the fly of his shorts, lightly grinding the heel into what lay beneath.  “I’ll remind you why you agreed in the first place, and then leave you to walk out of here with a third leg.”

“The hell you will.” 

Forcibly detaching her hand did no good because the other one swooped in to ambidextrously pick up the slack.  She was determined to give him a hard-on and his body couldn’t understand why he wasn’t excited about it.

“Don’t toy with me, Bongiovi,” she recommended while sliding down to the base of the zipper placket where she assertively cupped his boys.  “I’m not asking you to be nice – in fact I almost prefer that you’re not – nor am I trying to latch on for something longer than tonight.  I just want to ride you into the sunset of my vacation, Cowboy.”

In that moment, with his dick going stiff and her wicked little hand going to town on his balls, he hated her almost as much as he did those people outside.  More specifically, he hated her ability get his blood boiling.  The distinctive simmer she could instigate with a snap of her fingers had become his dirty, guilty pleasure.   When her manipulating grope turned up the heat on that simmer, it sent him bubbling over the top.

“You are such a bitch.”  Grabbing her waist, he walked her back until her hips hit the door with a quiet thunk.  Hands dropped from waist to thighs so he could shove her skirt up and agitatedly growl, “I swear you wear these goddamn dresses to tease me with how easy it is to take your pussy.  The pussy that wants me to split it wide open.” 

“Added benefit,” she breathed, readily parting her thighs without hesitation and groaning when his finger plowed inside.  “Godddd, I’ve been looking forward to that all day.”

Pushing a second finger to join the first, Jon relished the sweltering slickness that was already flooded.  He silently cussed himself for his physical vulnerability to her, following that up with curses for her exploitation of it.  His forehead bumped softly against the door as he fingered hard and fast enough to wrench out her helpless whimper.

“We don’t have time for this,” he whispered hotly, cruelly scraping a thumb over her clit and making her gasp.  “And you have only yourself to blame when you get left hanging this time.”

“I like the delayed gratification.  It makes me come harder when you finally fuck me.”

Her lack of remorse made him all the crazier, turning the fire on his blood boil up another notch.  As much as he hated her, she turned him on in ways he’d never dreamed of, and drowning in the throes of it provoked him to do something he seldom ever did – change his mind.  

“Fine.  The bitch wins, Counselor.”  Jon smirked at the quiet squeak of protest when he abruptly withdrew from her sucking heat.  “You’ll get your sunset ride, but I’m gonna make you pay dearly for the privilege.” 

34:Watching

This cookout with the Bongiovi family was a far cry from the last one, Charlie thought as she bounced Lucas on her knee.   There was a world of difference when Jon wasn’t glaring at her from across the table the entire time or stewing in his own anger.  That’s not to say that he was warm and fuzzy toward her, but he was semi-friendly and his lack of animosity bled through in his interactions with everyone else.

He laughed and chatted with a contented ease that she’d never seen in person, and that smile of his beamed like a beacon in a face that was even more sunned than it had been this morning.  The slight pink undertone of his neck, face and chest contrasted sharply with a pale blue shirt and made the silver of his hair and whiteness of his teeth more prevalent.  Even the little bit of stubble on his face was more noticeable than it would’ve been otherwise.

The beach agreed with him.  The Hamptons agreed with him, and even though she still had yet to see the interior, Charlie caught herself hoping that he wasn’t going to sell the house here on Lily Pond Lane.  Her own cache of fond memories was growing by the day.  She couldn’t imagine how many he held. 

Feeling bad about forcing his hand on this now, aren’t you?

Looking around at the contentment of all his family members, yes.  She was.  It was so much easier when there weren’t faces, people and personalities attached to the negotiations.  If she had seen this place and how happy it made this group of individuals, she never could’ve done it. 

“Miss Charlie,” Micah Jane demanded sweetly from Charlie’s elbow.  “Will you play dolls with me?”

“Now, baby,” Lilah interceded before a response could be given.  “Isabella said she would.  You just have to give her a minute to finish her ice cream.”

“But I want Miss Charlie to be Tinkerbell.”  Pudgy toddler hands held up a doll that didn’t bear the faintest resemblance to Tinkerbell, other than her blonde hair.

“Tell you what.”  Charlie leaned down and quietly offered, “If you’ll go ask Noah to let Nana out of her condo, you can run her around the yard for me.  Once you do that, I’ll be finished playing peekaboo with your brother and would love to be Tinkerbell.”

The little girl’s head whirled around to look at the group of young adults hanging all over the picnic tables next to the house.  “Who is he?”

Pointing to her oldest son, she directed, “See the boy in the white shirt?  That’s Noah.  Tell him his mom said, okay?”

“Okay!”

Off she went and, although Charlie was unaware that Lucas had been paying attention, he immediately squirmed to get off her lap.  “Nana!”

With Lilah’s approving nod, she let the little boy go chasing after his sister and subsequently, the dog. 

“I’m so glad you brought Nana with you tonight,” Tony’s wife commended, leaning back to cross her legs and twirl a paper umbrella in her iced tea.  Charlie found it kind of weird to put a drink umbrella in iced tea, but hadn’t commented.

“I just couldn’t stand leaving her alone all evening.  She’s happy in her crate and would be content just being around people even if she didn’t get out to socialize.”

Her eyes slid to the group of men raucously laughing over something at the other end of the table as she reached for her wine glass. 

In their sole moment alone this evening, Jon had offered her a martini, but her regular drink wasn’t appealing in the wake of the previous night’s overindulgence.  She declined, resulting in his quiet tease that she’d never taken him on without at least one martini under her belt.  Charlie suggestively replied that she was feeling adventurous tonight, and the grin that drew from him…  Well, it set her panties on fire.

“He’s been watchin’ you as much as you’ve been watchin’ him.”

Deliberately schooling herself to not jerk her attention from Jon to Lilah, Charlie turned gradually to the woman seated to the right of her at the table.  “Excuse me?”

Amusement crinkled the corners of Lilah’s bright eyes.   “Honey, the air around you two crackles in a whole ‘nother way tonight than it did the last time you were here.”

The observation incited a string of curse words in Charlie’s head.  She had gone to great efforts to maintain distance between herself and Jon tonight, keeping things on a neutral plane.  Either she’d done a lousy job of it or Lilah was fishing. 

“I’m sorry,” she deflected with an apologetic smile while determined to stay relaxed and unaffected.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm.”  The neutral hum was rife with skepticism as the Lilah fiddled with her gold hoop earring.  “You and your family fit in real well with this group.  I’ll just leave it at that and take my nosiness down a different road.  You’re as sassy with your brother tonight as you were Jon last time.  Everything okay?”

Luke was still on her shit list and would be for the foreseeable future.  Charlie had flatly provided Jon’s address and walked out the cottage door without offering to let him ride with her and the kids.  Even after he called after her that he’d pick up the wine, she’d succumbed to nothing more than an indifferent wave of acknowledgement. 

When she arrived tonight, the Bongiovi men were hanging around the driveway to make up for their last missed opportunity to check out her car.  Their inquiry about Luke’s whereabouts was satisfied with a generic platitude about him running late.

She was slightly more forthcoming with Lilah.   

“We argued today,” she nonchalantly explained away the conflict with her brother.  “You know how it is with siblings.  It’ll blow over sometime, but not yet.”

“I’m an only child, so all I know about siblin’s is those three.”  The ponytail that was secured with a glittery elastic band slithered over her shoulder as she nodded in the direction of Jon and his brothers.  “They’re always fussin’ about somethin’, but God forbid somebody else fuss at one of ‘em – especially Jon.  Tony and Matt are ready to rip a new eye socket in whoever dares.”

The imagery had Charlie wincing with the brutality.  “I’m surprised I don’t have three, in that case.”

“Oh, I’d say you’re safe,” A gentle hand came over and patted her thigh.  “You’ve not done it in front of them, and they think he’s exaggeratin’.”

“He’s not.”  Not even a little bit.  “Fuss” was a very mild word for what she did.

“Let’s not trouble them with unnecessary details like that, hmm?”

One side of her mouth quirking up, Charlie found her curiosity piqued.  It might be interesting to know something about Jon other than his penchant for sexual dominance.  “Why are they so protective of him?”

“He’s given them the world without a second thought and they repay it anyway they can.”  The other woman’s smile was fondly indulgent.  “Oh, he’ll blow up with empty threats about their paychecks every now and again, but he takes care of his family.  All of ‘em, which is why his nose was so far outta joint over that divorce business.  The implication that he’d leave Dorothea in a bad spot was a harsh blow to his integrity, just so ya know, and they were all unhappy with me for invitin’ you to dinner.”

Charlie still had trouble understanding why that invitation had been issued in the first place.  Yes, Lilah had said she wanted to get to know her, but with her admission that the entire family was unhappy about it…  It seemed like an awful small limb to go out on to acquaint herself with a stranger.

“I’m still not really sure why you did that.”

Slight shoulders shrugged up as children’s laughter drifted on the evening breeze.  “Sometimes I know things that I have no reason to.  I act accordin’ly.”

She liked Jon’s sister-in-law but was starting to find her somewhat peculiar.  She was also starting to see a why this was Jon’s Vivi.  Lilah wasn’t quite the same as a pit bull, but still carried her own brand of tenacity.  German Shepherd, perhaps?

“What kind of things do you know, Lilah?  Things that would prompt you to invite me to a place I wouldn’t be welcome?”

One side of Lilah’s mouth tucked into a tight smirk as amusement glittered in her eyes.  “The men in this family prefer I keep ‘that psycho shit’ to myself, so I’ll just repeat what I told you before.  I thought Jon was wrong about you and wanted the chance to prove it.  That’s all.”

J J J J J

Jon found his eyes catching on the counselor again, this time as she tucked a short skirt around her thighs to sit at the child-sized table covered with dolls.  Lifting her dog onto her lap, she beamed at his nieces and said something that made them both giggle, luring Lucas over to see what he might be missing.

The rest of the family seemed to get along well with her.  It was only between the two of them that there was the undercurrent of tension, and it wasn’t as bad tonight as on previous occasions.  Her bitterness seeming to be pointed at Luke for some reason.

After Jon's initial drink offer to her, they were keeping a polite distance from one another with both of them interacting with different people throughout dinner and dessert.  It didn’t keep him from watching her and picturing that fluttery little skirt hiked up to her waist, but he doubt anybody noticed.

Now, he was kicked back with a glass of wine and shooting the shit with his brothers and hers in the fading daylight.  Lilah and Desiree were in the kitchen putting away leftovers, his two youngest and Matt’s boy were running around the yard with Nerf guns and all the college kids were congregated over by the pool.

Tipping his chin toward Luke, he finally probed, “What’s the deal with you and your sister?  I’m usually at the top of her homeland enemy list, but it looks like you beat me out tonight.”

The other man’s smile faded into a flat line in his scruffy face and he shoved his wineglass onto the table, its base scraping audibly against the wood.  “Eh.  I pissed her off today.  She doesn’t appreciate my point of view on how she lives her life.”

It was Jon’s smile that faded now, and the sudden raucous laughter coming from the pool had him glancing briefly in that direction.  When the counselor left to spend the night with him yesterday, her brother hadn’t seemed fazed in the least.  Luke had actually seemed totally cool with it, but this comment had Jon speculating that he might’ve been wrong.

“You know how it is with family.”  Tony’s commiseration came with a pointed look in Jon’s direction.  “They think you’re trying to be a pain in the ass, when you just wanna help.”

We’re referring to Lilah’s half-cracked theory as help? 

That stretch in perception was almost as cracked as the theory itself, and Jon saluted his brother in the traditional New Jersey manner.

“Your wife doesn’t want to help, she legitimately wants to be a pain in my ass.”

“What’s Lilah done now?”

The laughter that laced Matt's question stemmed from his intimate familiarity with their sister-in-law’s quirkiness.  Jon wasn’t the only brother she enjoyed needling, just the one she enjoyed needling most.   Even so, this conversation wasn’t appropriate to have in front of the counselor’s brother – or anyone else outside the three of them.

That's why Jon tried to dismiss it with a casual, “Nothing new. Usual nutty Lilah shit.”

Tony didn’t seem to think the current company placed any restrictions on their topic of conversation. He immediately offered all the elaboration that Jon hadn't wanted to share.  “She thinks Jon and Charlie have a future together.”

That simple sentence had one set of eyebrows drawing into a harsh scowl – Jon’s – and two sets winging high with surprise – Luke’s and Matt’s. 

What part of ‘fling’ did Tony not understand and why in the hell was he propagating his wife’s stupidity?  Irritated as hell with his brother, Jon spat, “Thanks, asshole.”

That psychic network newsletter evidently didn't bother Luke, who hoisted his wineglass and divulged, “I wouldn’t complain.  That was part of the argument today – that I think she needs somebody like you.  A decent guy who has the same sense of responsibility and work ethic she does.”

The revelation had Jon uncrossing his legs and shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  It was bad enough that his own family – who knew how Lilah could be – was aware of her dumbass theories about him and the counselor.  Including Luke in that and watching him willingly climb on board the crazy train was awkward to the nth degree. 

“As long as you’re not expecting it to be me,” he pointblank cut the other man’s notion off at the knees.  “She and I haven’t screamed at each other tonight, and that’s about as good as it’s gonna get for us.” 

That candidness earned him the pointed gaze of three very different pairs of eyes.  Blue, brown and hazel irises all called bullshit, but the men showed enough restraint and respect to keep from saying it aloud.  His brothers didn’t know that Luke was aware of the physical relationship going on between Jon and the counselor, and Luke was equally in the dark about Jon’s brothers’ awareness. 

That lack of shared knowledge kept him from having to defend his statement.  He could keep his mouth shut and nobody would be the wiser.  Unfortunately, he hated that they all thought his remark was an ass-covering lie. 

“Sex is sex.  Period.”  Jon kept his voice quiet so as not to invite unwanted ears.  “And we don’t get through that without fighting, either.  So all of you back the hell down, mind your own business and do not encourage Lilah in her jacked-up theories.”

Eyes that had just been pinned to him now regarded one another with the recognition of what Jon’s comment signified.  Everybody was on the same page now with the understanding that speaking their minds wouldn’t break any confidences, and it was Matt who took the first shot.

 “I don’t buy into Lilah’s shit, but at the risk of making you mad, I’m gonna say I don’t think you and Charlie are all that different.”

There was obviously more wine being drunk here tonight than he’d realized, because little brother was spouting mindless drunken babble.

“Yep.”  Tony was now throwing in his two cents.  “Humanitarian, food banks.  As Luke said, work ethic and responsibility.  She sure as fuck is independent, which is a must for you.”

“She’s definitely independent,” Luke chimed in when his turn came.  “Tough as nails, but she loves as hard as she fights.  She’s worth the work.”

His Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee duo had grown to the Three Matchmaking Stooges.  How in the hell at this happened when all Jon wanted to do was have no-holds barred sex?  He was newly divorced, which made it completely within the realm of social acceptance.  Why couldn't they leave it at that?

Why?   

“Matt, you’re drunk.  Tony, you’re pussy whipped, and Luke is trying to foist his barracuda sister off on somebody.  Anybody.”  The rest of Jon’s wine went down in one gulp and he rose to loom ominously over the trio of men who were all bigger than him.  “I repeat: mind your own business.” 

33:New Theory

The sharp knock on the bathroom door was followed by a loud, masculine, “Jon!”

Shower water muffled the voice enough that he couldn’t tell if it was Matt or Tony, but since both had seen him in the shower more times than he could count, it didn’t really matter. 

“What?” he called, twirling the handle that would halt the flow of cool water sluicing down his body. 

After spending much of the afternoon on the beach, he was overheated and on the verge of being sunburned, making this one of those rare instances where a hot shower wasn’t his best friend.  The chilly water not only chased away after-effects of the sun, it was exactly what he needed to revitalize him for this final round with the counselor tonight. 

After a long night and morning of exploiting her willing body, he needed a boost before he took up the task again.  She’d proven capable of going as long and hard as he wanted, and that enticed him to try a full exploration of her limitations tonight.  When he got dressed, it might be a good idea to have a Red Bull so that they didn’t reach his limitations before making it out the outer boundary of hers.

Sticking his arm out through a partially opened shower door, he patted around until finding the towel hook and pulled the plush cloth inside the stall to swab over his face.  As he did, whomever wanted him spouted way too many words to be talking through solid wood.  Jon couldn’t make out a damn thing being said.

“Open the door,” he called while scrubbing the water from his hair and kicking the shower door closed.  The towel had just settled around his waist when the doorknob twisted to admit his middle brother.  "I didn't hear a fucking thing you said.  Try again."

He did, but not without a sigh of disgust.  “You mentioned Luke and Charlie coming for dinner, but didn’t mention their kids.  I need a total headcount so Lilah and I can make a run to the store.”

“I assume they’ll be here.”  Turning to open the drawer with the Q-tips, he mentally counted his family as five, Matt’s as four, Tony’s as four, and the counselor’s as five.  “That makes eighteen, I guess.”

The low whistle of surprise had Jon looking over his shoulder with a confused frown, unsure as to what the big deal was.  Once the dinner headcount reached the teens, eighteen was practically the same as the thirteen they’d had all week.

“Jon, man.  What the hell happened to your back?”

Shit.

He wore a sleeveless shirt on the beach today, taking it off only at the last second to drop onto the beach towel and sun his chest.  When it was time to go, he had done the same thing in reverse so nobody had noticed the mauling he’d taken at the counselor’s fingernails.  All very simple and low-key.  No muss, no fuss.

It had never occurred to him to hide in his own bathroom.

“Jellyfish,” he lied shortly.  “You want something else?”

Spreading his feet and folding his arms, Tony offered up a smug grin.  “Jellyfish don’t have fingernails, you lying sack of shit.  Who is she?”

Quite frankly, even with the threats that had been dispensed, Jon would be surprised if Matt hadn’t already spilled the beans.  There was at least a seventy-five percent chance that Tony was busting his balls and knew exactly who “she” was and that Jon was with her last night, but Jon wasn’t admitting to anything unless the odds went higher. 

“You askin’ because you don’t know or you just wanna hear me say it?”

The grin became a wider splash of white in the middle of his brother’s goatee.  “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuckers.  Both of you,” he swore, turning to the mirror and finger-combing his hair while very deliberately not saying it.  “You’re under the same warning as Matt.  If Lilah finds out, you’re working my next tour as a strictly volunteer gig, and I’m not even fucking kidding.”

“She won’t hear it from me,” Tony promised with upraised hands.  “But don’t forget about that intuition thing of hers.   If she finds out you’re screwing the lawyer, blame Fate, not me.”

Lilah and her damn Fate.  She swore up and down that’s what brought Tony to her, or her to Tony or however the hell she happened to end up as the thorn in Jon’s side.  That whole concept was just another verse of the bullshit song that he’d been talking to the counselor about last night – people laying on their lazy asses and accepting their lot in life rather than carving their own destiny.

He hated that shit.

“I’ll take my chances.”  He swung around to find his brother still standing there, staring like a dumbass.  “What?”

“Don’t get pissy with me.”  The bland declaration reinforced his title as the least excitable Bongiovi.  “If I don’t get to tell my wife she’s right, you’re depriving me of the sexual manifestation of her appreciation.  That entitles me to more than a secondhand account of you and Charlie screaming at each other in the pool and wandering off to some mysterious location for the night.  What’s the story?”

The story was him getting laid tonight, although he hadn’t nailed down the particulars on where and when.  The prologue to the story was that he’d also gotten laid last night and the night before.  The horrifying cliffhanger at the end of the chapter was that he liked it more than any sane man should.

“You think I’m just gonna stand here and spill my guts to you?  Have we met?”  With a shake of his head, he stipulated, “Ask a specific question and you might get a specific answer.  That’s the best you can hope for.”

“Okay…”  One hand circled in the air.  “Where were you last night, since you obviously didn’t go to a business dinner in the city?”

That answered that question.  Matt had kept his mouth shut about last night, which pleased Jon considerably.

Sliding a condemning look in his brother’s direction for calling out his fib to the family, he balefully bit out, “Borrowed a boat out of Montauk and spent the night in the Vineyard Sound.”

The eyebrow Tony kicked up had more natural arch to it than Jon’s, giving him a villainous appearance.  That suited him right now, because Jon considered him evil. 

“Lotta trouble for a screw.”

Why did everybody keep calling it a lot of trouble?  He borrowed a boat.  It only cost him fuel and crew wages, so he’d considered it a cheap solution to his privacy problem. 

“It was easier than a ‘copter to the city, and we aren’t calling it a ‘screw’.  The terminology going around is ‘vacation fling’ and, since she goes home tomorrow, we’re on the verge of calling it ‘done’.”

“On the verge?  Not actually done?” 

“Not yet.”  One more exhausting battle to the orgasm awaited before he would ring the final bell.

“So that means we should stay away from the pool tonight?”

Although probably intended as nothing more than blatant sarcasm, it actually wasn’t a bad idea.  The pool itself was out of the question, but the Airstream was a dry and viable option.  If his brothers knew to stay the hell away, they would also steer the rest of the clan away, leaving this circle of knowledge very small and very intimate. 

He could count on them to do that.  Whatever else he might say, his brothers always had his back.

“Yes.  All of you stay far away.”

“Jesus.”  Tony’s groan teemed with disgust.  “I was kidding, man.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.  Nobody goes out to the pool or trailer.”

His dark head shook with resignation as he sighed, “I’ll try, but in return I get to ask you something.”

Jon hated questions that were prefaced by an announcement that the question was coming.  It was a tactic specifically designed to put a person on edge and, even though he knew that, he still went out on that edge every time. 

“What?” he demanded impatiently.

“She lives in the city, right?”

“Brooklyn.”

“So there’s no reason you couldn’t continue this.  If you wanted.”

Yes, but he didn’t want.  Things between them were explosive in both a good and a bad way, with enough bad that he wasn’t interested in a regular diet of it.  The vacation limitation worked for him as well as it did her. 

Are you sure about that?  You’ve had her five times in the last twenty-four hours and are willingly orchestrating a way to make it happen again.  You’re fifty-three.  Aren’t you just a little surprised by your resilience?

Sex was like pizza.  The very worst was still good, and the novelty of a new woman escalated his hunger.  That was all.

“Not gonna happen,” he declared bluntly, dismissing the voice hinting that it had more to do with the woman than her newness.  “You’ve seen us together.  We hate each other, and it’s only marginally better naked.”

“I dunno, man.  You know what they say about there being a fine line between love and hate.”

The condescending laughter didn’t amuse Jon.  It grated on his nerves.

“Yeah.  They say you’re a dumb fuck.  Weren’t you going someplace?” he reminded bitterly and pushed past his brother into the bedroom, careful not to slip on the shiny, dark hardwood.

“Eventually.” 

Silently grumbling in annoyance at the lackadaisical response, Jon dropped the towel to the floor and stepped into a pair of tan cargo shorts.  They were buttoned and zipped in short order, and he reached for the light blue button-down that was hanging on one of the walnut bedposts.

He’d fastened it up to the middle of his stomach when the weight of Tony’s bespectacled eyes on him became too heavy for comfort.  “Now what?”

His brother was unmoved by the short-tempered question, passively responding, “Just noticing that you’re dressing for company.  You didn’t do that last time she came to dinner.  If you’d shaved, I would say Lilah might be right with her new theory.”

The stubble on his jaw was by design, although he would be keeping that little detail to himself.  The counselor had mentioned in the throes of morning sex that she liked the look on him and the feel on her.  Recalling the whimpered admission had provoked afternoon beach fantasies about pinking her skin with whisker burn – all over – so here he was.  Unshaven.

“God save us all from her frigging theories,” he drawled, finishing up a couple more shirt buttons to prop open hands on his hips.  “What this time?  The counselor and I are star-crossed lovers destined to meet over a divorce?”

“Well…”  Finally showing the first signs of uneasiness, Tony started slipping toward the door while thoughtfully stroking his facial hair.  “I wouldn’t use those exact words…”

It was either get mad at her psychotic tendencies or blow them off as the craziness they were, so Jon opted to laugh at the absurdity of it.  His theory centered on his sister-in-law being a little Kentucky kook who really shouldn’t be interacting with socialized people. 

“What words did she use?”

“Tony?”  The woman under discussion was knocking at his bedroom door.  “Are you in there?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Tony’s grin was as villainous as his damn eyebrow, and he stretched an arm out to twist the handle so that his wife could join them.  “Hey, babe.  I was just telling Jon that you have a new theory about Charlie.  Wanna tell him what it is?”

Stepping into the room with yet another bright sundress swirling around her ankles, Lilah’s mouth puckered into an ugly frown.  She zapped Tony with a heated version of Jon’s stink eye while sweetly denying, “Why, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout honey, but Jon looks like he got too much sun.  You need some aloe.  Didn’t you wear sunscreen out there today?”

Those same eyes went from stink to blink as they turned on Jon and batted with the innocence of a newborn babe.  The broad swing of her dramatic pendulum was enough to make him snort out loud.

“I swear to God you’re a borderline nutcase,” he chuckled, tucking his arms into one another.  “Just tell me your frigging theory so I can finally assign you to the nut side of the line.”

“Fine.” Huffing, she demeaned her husband with one more mini stink eye before turning a beseeching gaze on Jon.  “Charlie’s got problems nobody knows about.  I think a little kindness would go a long way with her.”

Okay.  That wasn’t even really weird.  It was more like a generic fortune cookie – applicable to everyone.  Her “theory” was a life observation instead of a nutty prediction/premonition. 

Unless there was more to this story?

Jon’s darted a questioning look back and forth between his brother and sister-in-law until Tony nudged Lilah. 

“Tell him the rest.”

Another serving of stink eye was dished up, this one more fierce than the first. 

“You just lost your bedroom privileges for tonight, Jersey.”

“Wanna bet, Bluegrass?” he countered with an arrogant pat to her rump.  They still acted like newlyweds most days.  It would be nauseating if Jon wasn't happy for his brother.  “Tell him.”

“Grr.  I wish your high-handedness wasn’t such a damn turn-on!” Her sour look shifted its focus from Tony to Jon.  “Charlie needs you.  Be nice to her because, if you’ll show a little patience and understanding…  I think she’s the rest of your life.” 

Jon roughly brushed a hand over his forearm, pushing down the hair that now stood on end. 

“Next thing you know, you’re gonna start demanding a fucking gypsy tent at the front door of my shows,” he ridiculed angrily.  “Well, it ain’t happenin’, just like that woman and the rest of my life ain’t happenin’.  Stop painting your damn shiny shit on things that are just shit, Lilah.”

He was halfway down the hall when the lazily drawled question caught up to him.  “Why'd you invite her to dinner, Jon?”

“Because she wanted to see the fucking house!”

And because he wanted to fuck her.  Both were straightforward and uncomplicated reasons that involved the rest of his night – not the rest of his life.

32:Soapbox

“Hey,” Luke languidly greeted her from poolside at the cottage, and his long, lanky limbs were sprawled over one of the lounge chairs in the exact position Charlie was preparing to assume. 

“Hey.” 

Dropping to the warm cushioned lounger as Nana crawled into the shade beneath it, she followed through by dropping her phone and a bottle of water to the table between their chairs.  Slipping off her sandals and nudging the sunglasses further up her nose, she then pivoted on her bottom, stretched out, tilted her face to the sky and sighed with contentment.

This.  This very thing was going to consume the rest of the afternoon.  The remainder of today’s agenda would not be any more strenuous than a long, sun-soaking nap to counteract the fatigue that still lingered from last night. 

Until after dinner, anyway.

Jon hadn’t told her what the plan for tonight was, but she couldn’t recall a man who had as much energy and stamina.  Whatever was on the docket would be hot, hard and rambunctious, requiring as much rest as she could get.  He didn’t seem to know any other way, and she wasn’t complaining. 

“Where are the kids?”

“I’m supposed to know the answer to that?” came her brother’s sluggish question. 

Chuckling lightly, she assured him, “No.  They’re all technically adults.  I was just asking.”

“I think they were here long enough to change clothes and then they might have gone to the beach.”

She’d been about ninety percent certain that’s where they would be since it was their last full vacation day.  They did love the beach and Charlie did, too.  It was unusual that she hadn’t spent much of her days there this time around.  She blamed it on Jon, just because it was convenient.

Speaking of which…

“We’ve been invited to a backyard barbecue at Jon’s house tonight, by the way.  All of us.”

“That reminds me.”  Lolling his head in her direction, he inquired curiously, “Without giving me any unwanted details, how was last night?”

Intense.  Exhausting.  Amazing.  Addicting. 

“Fine.”

With a laugh, he elaborated, “Unwanted details doesn’t imply no details.  He’s obviously not the Hamptons Hacker since you still have all of your visible body parts, but you can let loose with a little more than that.  Where’d you go?”

Him and that Hamptons Hacker thing.  Sometimes she was convinced that his mouth was unplugged from his brain.

“You’re an idiot.  He’s a perfectly-  Okay, he’s not nice, but he definitely isn’t Jack the Ripper or the Hamptons Hacker.  And we spent the night on a yacht.”

Pushing up onto his elbows, Luke scowled from behind his sunglasses.  “What do you mean he’s not nice?”

That remark had obviously trumped the yacht tidbit by kicking his big brother instincts into play.  Unimpressed, Charlie negligently waved a hand at the show of stereotypical Italian testosterone.  “Back down, Luca.  We argue a lot.  That’s all I meant.”

“But you like him?”

Did she like him?  Quite honestly, she’d never thought of their acquaintanceship in such basic terms.  There were thing she liked about Jon, most of which went on behind that closed bedroom door, but as far as liking him?  She probably could with another date or two like last night’s, but since that wasn’t going to happen…

“He’s the perfect vacation fling.”

Sighing, Luke swung his feet to the ground so he could sit up and face her.  “Charls.”

She silently groaned at the abbreviation of her nickname.  For whatever reason, he adopted that peculiar manly twist on her name only when on the verge of doling out news or advice that he knew she wouldn’t like.  In fact, he’d used it day before yesterday when delivering the marina invitation from Jon.  That had turned out okay, but it was one of the few instances that had.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Too damn bad,” he carelessly tossed out.  “Because I’m going to say it anyway.  You’d be a helluva lot happier with someone like Jon instead of Owen.”

Here we go again.

About once a year, Luke got on a soapbox and started in on her marriage.  He hadn’t given a second thought to her marriage until about eight years ago, when he saw her in a bar kissing some guy who wasn’t her husband.  Three years later the exact same thing happened in the exact same bar. 

She didn’t go to that bar anymore.

Both times, she and her brother had argued about it the next day.  Her boys were safe and cared for on the rare occasion that she needed to feel like a woman, Charlie argued unapologetically.  Luke didn’t know anything about her marriage nor was she going to enlighten him, and she stated in no uncertain terms that he needed to butt out and mind his own business.

It didn’t stop him from taking up the cause that she needed to “dump Owen’s ass” to pursue a “real” relationship, however, and it was an opinion he chose to periodically shove down her throat.  Normally, she listened and calmly reiterated that he needed to mind his own business.  He got pissed, he went away and she got radio silence on the subject until the next time. 

He cared.  She got that.  He also hadn’t told anyone else about her occasional indiscretions, as far as she knew, and remained the only one who did know.  Those things made her much more tolerant of his overbearing opinion, but she didn’t have the stamina to do it today. 

“Probably so,” she agreed coldly.  “But it’s never going to happen.  End of discussion.”

His tone immediately went from reasonable to peeved and he demanded, “Time after time, you willingly take the short end of the stick with him while beating the hell out everybody else with that same short end.  When the fuck are you ever going to tell me why?”

“I’m not.  It’s not your job to understand my marriage.” 

Her head was starting to throb.  There were days that the burden of secrecy was almost more trouble than it was worth and this was shaping up to be one of those days.

“Oh, but it is,” came his contradictory scoff.  “The minute they brought you hope from that hospital in a pink blanket, it became my, Vince and Dom’s responsibility to make sure some asswipe didn’t take advantage of our little sister.  Yet, here we are, still allowing it after what?  Twenty years?  How do you think that makes us feel, Charlie?”

“It’s only nineteen years.”  Her anniversary wasn’t until November the fourth, so it was technically wasn’t twenty years.

“What the fuck ever!  All you do is tell us over and over to mind our own business.  You’re a hard-ass.  I know that and am at least partially responsible for it, but goddammit, we’re your brothers!  You’re killing us!”

That throbbing was turning into stabbing pains behind her right eye as Charlie’s relaxing nap got shoved to the back burner for this sweet little heart-to-heart talk.  Couldn’t he have waited for this garbage until after she’d had some sleep? 

“You’re killing me!” Her hands flew up with exasperation.  How many ways had she said this through the years?  How many times had she repeated herself over and over?  No matter how she phrased it, whether she said it softly or at the top of her lungs, he still didn’t get it.  “It’s my life.  My choice.  You’re not responsible for it, so just fucking accept it!”

“I can’t!”  He always could yell louder than her, and she winced at the volume.  “I see you with a decent guy like Jon and know you’re wasting everything – including your happiness – with that Canadian putz!”

“Don’t bring Jon into this,” she threatened with a harshly jabbed finger.  “Our thing is a freak aberration that nobody planned, and it will be over with tonight.  There’s no reason to romanticize it into something else.”

In the back of her mind, Charlie had wondered if a follow-up encounter in the city might be possible, but that didn’t constitute being “with” Jon.  It was amazing sex, and walking away sex from that good might be as sacrilegious as washing underwear in holy water.  She would have to think about that.

“I’m not talking him specifically, dumbass.”  Luke’s huff of annoyance was loud and abrupt.  “If there’s him, then there’s somebody else.  Somebody you can be married to in every sense of the word, instead of going from stranger to stranger’s bed!”

Oh Sweet Mary, Mother of God.  Could he possibly be any more rude and insulting?  How dare he pass judgment on something he didn’t understand the first thing about!

Charlie swung her feet to the ground to stand and loom over him with the tip of her finger almost touching his nose.  “You take that back right fucking now!  I don’t care what you think you know, you don’t get to sit there and imply I’m some Jezebel slut!”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he shot back heatedly.  “How many men have you slept with in the past year that weren’t your husband, Charlie?  How many?!”

“One, you asshole!  ONE!  The one YOU introduced me to!” 

That last outcry sent a sharp, white-hot pain into her temple, and her hand immediately came up to massage away the poker-like sensations.  Fury had her heart pounding like a marching band and with the shallow breaths that were accompanying it, Charlie was half-convinced there was a stroke pending. 

Unwilling to take that chance, she snatched up her belongings and crammed shaky feet into her sandals.  She could not remember the last time she’d been so angry with anyone other than Jon and, if for some reason that stroke didn’t materialize, she needed to get out of here to avoid kicking Luke in the face. 

“I call bullshit,” her favorite brother spat with a mocking laugh.  “I personally know of three, so you have to be doing more than that!”

So much for caring about her well-being.  He just wanted to pass down the judgmental hand of God.  She and God would work it out on their own, he didn't need to play intermediary.

“With those odds you oughta play the lottery,” she recommended stonily.  “Because, besides those three, there have only been three others in the last twenty years, one of which is Owen.  If you need help with the math, six men in twenty years averages out to once every three and one-third years.  No matter what my brother thinks of me, I deserve to feel like a woman once every three goddamn years.  Come on, Nana.”

With her body trembling with rage and emotion, her head splitting into two uneven pieces, and her little dog trotting along beside her, Charlie strode back toward the cottage.   She had invited him to share her vacation and this was the thanks she got?  Insults and belittlement?  Thanks, but no thanks.  Next time, he could stay in the city and work himself to death.

“Aww, shit.”  His swear of regret suggested that he knew he’d gone too far, and the apology that he swiftly called after her confirmed it.  “Charlie!  Charlie, I’m sorry!”

He could be sorry all he wanted, but it didn’t rewind the clock and take back his hurtful assumptions.  She’d take fighting with Jon over this any day.  At least their arguments ended with both of them satisfied.

“Go to hell, Luke.”