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.”