Williamsburg, Virginia, Late September
“Well, Sis, you did okay for yourself here, y’know that?” Annalise said to Emily, holding a glistening glass of iced tea to her cheek because of the humidity. She plopped down into one of the Adirondack chairs Emily and the children had bought and refinished with their many handprints in vivid, primary colors.
Emily glanced around the shady rear yard, nodding slightly as they both watched the children playing croquet with some friends from school who lived in neighboring townhouses. She thought she had done okay as well, seeing as how they’d moved to her sister’s hometown of Williamsburg, Virginia, barely two months ago after leaving Shane and Darrell’s parents.
They’d bunked in Annalise’s four-bedroom home for nearly a month before Emily managed to rent this three-bedroom, end -unit townhome with a common backyard area large enough for her family to play in. The sleeping arrangements were tight: Dana and Darcy in one room, the three little ones in another.
She kept the master to herself, needing some space for privacy, but mainly using it to cry herself to sleep most nights, stifled under a pillow so the children wouldn’t hear. The move had been traumatic for them all. The first week consisting of tears and tantrums across country, and while it seemed the kids had finally forgiven her and were adjusting, surprisingly, Emily appeared to be the one resisting reconciling to her new life.
“Thanks, Anna. You guys were real champs putting up with all of us. Have y’all recovered?” And then she covered her mouth, realizing she had said the dreaded Southern “Y’all,” causing her sister to burst out laughing.
“Oh, my goodness! You said it! You said y’all! Now you’re a true Southerner!” Annalise squealed, while Emily laughed with her and the children paused in their game to look back at the slap-happy adults before returning to their pastime.
“I guess I am feeling at home,” agreed Emily, relaxing in her chair. It had been an upsetting two months for her and her family, but Emily felt they were beginning to settle in. Since school had started, all the children had met kids their own age and were getting play dates and invitations out; even the twins, whom she had placed in pre-kindergarten for their socialization.
The move had affected them both the hardest, and their social skills reflected their anxiety. David’s stuttering increased, which in turn reminded Emily of Shane’s kindness towards her son, and brought the blasted tears to her eyes. She couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about him.
“Well, it’s a pretty nice home, you’ve gotta admit,” Annalise commented. She was proud of her sister, travelling across country by herself, finding a job and a home for her family, all with minimum help from herself and her husband.
“Yeah, but the weather bites, Sis,” and Emily swiped her forehead with her arm. “I thought it would be a lot cooler here by now.”
“You’re in the South, now, honey. It’s like a sauna, and then there’s winter. Now, how are all of you holding up, really?” Annalise narrowed her green eyes on Emily, who shifted uneasily in her chair under her sister’s scrutiny.
Looking at her cuticles, Emily replied, “They’ve forgiven me, at least. Dana and Darcy still don’t get the fact that boyfriends and girlfriends break up; they still want me to call Shane and tell him where we are. They don’t seem to understand that he and I are over.” This said with barely a tremor.
“Are you, though?”
Silent tears spilling under her lids at just the thought of Shane McNeal, Emily managed to shake her head no.
Taking a deep breath, she explained in a shaking voice, “What I mean is, he and I are over, but I fell so hard for him, Anna. I really, really loved him. Still do. If he walked in here now, I’d throw myself at him and beg his forgiveness. But that doesn’t change the fact he couldn’t commit. I’d be right back where I started. But, oh, God, it hurts every minute of the day and night. At least with Darrell it was final; with Shane, I know he’s out there. I see his novels, I see his name in magazines, I see his face on posters in bookstores—he’s everywhere!”
“That does make it tough, hon. Like that latest Vanity Fair spread. My God! You were shagging him? He looked so intense in some of those shots, yet others he looked, well, like a clown- around type of guy! So which was he?”Annalise watched the color return to her sister’s face in a rush, and knew the memories were just as fresh as ever for Emily.
Emily closed her eyes, remembering all too well that New York trip Shane had made for the aforementioned magazine spread. Actually, she remembered his return from that trip exceedingly well: his looks, his touch, his kisses, her responses...
Waiving an answer, Annalise reached out and grabbed her younger sister’s hand and squeezed it.
“You did the right thing, Em. It will get better. I promise.”
***
And it did. Little by little, Emily managed to move through each day with a bit more time between thoughts of Shane. Having a job helped keep her busy while the children were in school, and then there was also Lou.
When Emily and her kids first came to Williamsburg, she told Annalise and Tim she needed to get a job immediately. Shane’s salary had been generous, but paying cash for six people and a rattle-trap car across country made a dent in Emily’s nest egg, and the remainder she needed to hold onto for rent. Tim suggested she work in the historic Revolutionary City of Williamsburg, a tourist attraction that employed hundreds of people to maintain its realistic ambiance.
Since Emily claimed no skills for the work force, Annalise’s husband said the Revolutionary City was her best bet; she could be trained in whatever position she got hired into. So, five days after appearing on Annalise’s porch step, Emily went into town in search of a job, leaving her angry children with their cousins and aunt and uncle.
The first round of interviews went quickly and smoothly, with Emily making a good impression in her black pencil skirt, white blouse, and medium-heeled shoes.
In fact, one of the co-chairmen for the Historic Williamsburg Foundation handed Emily a map of the Revolutionary City, saying, “The General Store, Tarpley’s, needs sales clerks. It’s a very busy shop on the main street. Unfortunately, our Mr. Tarpley is, well, a bit… rough-around-the-edges with his employees. He’s great with customers, but he can be...irascible, I guess you’d call him. But, you having worked in a rather servile capacity, so I think you might be able to work for Lou. Remember, if you just can’t stand him, please, come to us and we’ll find you another position here in the City. I think you have the right attitude for Williamsburg.”
Now, armed with her map and confidence bolstered by sheer desperation, Emily made her way to Tarpley’s Store and entered the not –yet-open-for-business establishment with much trepidation. A hard-nose boss? Shane had lacked social niceties, but their mutual attraction erased his irritable tendencies around Emily. Emily didn’t know if she was up for another prima-donna boss.
“We’re not open yet,” a gravelly, smoker’s voice came from the rear of the store.
Nonplussed, Emily nevertheless replied shakily, “I’m your new store clerk, sir.”
She stepped farther into the wood floored, historically appointed general store, glancing about and hoping for a glimpse of the elusive Lou Tarpley.
“Ah, another sweet little angel corporate sent me. You might as well head on back where you came from. I can tell already the customers will eat you up for breakfast and spit you out at lunch.”
From the shadows came a short, stocky, centrally bald fireplug of a man dressed in a gray, homespun, long-sleeved shirt open at the neck, black suspenders, and black wool trousers. Between his lips he clenched a dead cigar while he spoke around it.
Suddenly pissed that she had tottered all this way to the store in heels, feet pinching with every step, only to be dismissed by this, this—troll of a man, Emily replied acidly, “Looks can be deceiving, Sir. For example, I look at you and see a short, grumpy tyrant who says nasty things to all his employees just so they’ll leave, allowing him to continue running his store exactly the way he wants to, corporate be damned.”
Chest heaving at the realization of what she’d just said to her possible boss, Emily nevertheless maintained eye contact, standing ramrod straight and returning his narrowed gaze with one of her own. The seconds ticked by. Suddenly the man barked a laugh, removing the unlit cigar from his mouth.
“Hot damn! They finally sent a live one! What’s your name, girl? I’m Lou Tarpley, if you haven’t figured that out.”
“Oh, I had your number immediately. I’m Emily Wakeland, Sir,” and Emily held out a visibly trembling hand.
If the older man noticed, he said nothing, shaking her hand vigorously, then letting go.
Reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a matchbook, he asked off-handedly, “Mind if I smoke?” His look challenged Emily.
She smiled sweetly, replying, “Not at all. I’ll send you my emphysema treatment bill in about twenty years. But you’ll probably be dead by then.”
Halting in the middle of lighting said cigar, Lou Tarpley glared up at Emily, curled his lip, and then put away the matchbook and held onto the still unlit cigar.
“You’re not hired yet, girl. I’d watch my p’s and q’s if I were you.”
“Actually, I am hired. If I don’t like working with you, I was told to return and they’d find me another position. This is just a pity call.”
In the process of turning away, Tarpley swung back around, heavy brows lowering as he grouched, “Pity call, my ass. Alright, Ms.—what was it?”
“Wakeland. And it’s Mrs.”
“I’d like to meet the Mr., then.”
“You can’t. He’s dead.”
Tarpley turned toward her quickly, assessing her demeanor and saying much more humbly, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Come with me and I’ll fetch you the get-up you’re supposed to wear around here.”
“I’m—I’m starting right now?” Emily glanced around uneasily, not quite ready to jump into the frying pan.
Glancing back at her slyly, Lou Tarpley said, “Might as well see if you like working for me, eh?”
Hoist by her own petard, Emily nodded weakly, hoping her uniform came with flat shoes. Luckily, it did.
Within a half hour, Emily had suited up in a long, gray skirt, white shirtwaist, apron, mob cap, and flat slipper-like shoes, and Lou Tarpley had shown her how to run the register, ATM, as well as where the various surplus stock was stored in the back.
“That’s enough learning for today. It shouldn’t be too busy; a lot of the schools out here start in August. However, vacationers from Californy and such might show up.”
Automatically Emily closed her eyes at the mention of California, but if Lou noticed, he said nothing.
The day started slowly, just as Tarpley predicted, but by lunch time they were doing a brisk business, and Emily found herself drowning in customers and receipts. Noticing this, Lou left his post at the whittling display and shouldered his way over to the counter, opening another vintage-style register and calling waiting customers to his line. Fifteen minutes later, they’d killed the line and were able to stand back and watch the lookie-loos for a moment.
“Thank you, Mr. Tarpley, for helping. I thought I was a goner there. I never realized it might be difficult for a clerk to ring someone up and talk to a customer till now. I’ll think twice before I kibitz with one when I shop.”
Tarpley grunted, straightening receipts for both registers and not looking at Emily beside him.
“You did alright, girl, for your first day. Do you wanna stay, or high-tail it outta here?”
Turning to stare at him, for surely he must have found her service slow and clumsy at best, Emily stammered, “I-I’d like to stay on, if it’s okay with you, Sir. I enjoy the work, and the people.”
Finished with his task, Lou glanced up at the sad-eyed young woman before him and said gruffly, “Well, you’re better than the milk-toast I’ve been sent in the past, so I guess you can stay on. Take a forty-five minute lunch, and meet me back here.”
Smiling warmly, Emily nodded, backing out from behind the counter.
As she turned to leave, Lou continued, “And Mrs. Wakeland?”
Swinging back around, Emily raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Lose the ‘Sir.’ It’s Lou.”
“Yes s—Lou.” Heading out the front door, Emily allowed herself a triumphant smile.
***
And so an unlikely friendship was born. Lou Tarpley and Emily Wakeland became the odd couple of Colonial Williamsburg. Not in a dating way; no, they became fast friends, which in and of itself was unusual, since Lou Tarpley didn’t make friends. Emily found herself attending staff meetings and seating herself next to her boss. He in turn would play the proud duena, sitting and watching the young widow as she flitted from person to person, smiling and laughing and getting to know her fellow employees
. Lou had taken her under his wing for whatever reason and felt protective of her, even though he was the first to argue with the widow if she didn’t do what he thought should be done. As far as Emily was concerned, Lou pretended to be gruff and grouchy, but she knew he was a Teddy bear inside.
In fact, Emily loved all the people she worked with, as well as the place where she worked. Employees working in the Revolutionary City enjoyed what they did, whether it was clerk, actor, or maintenance personnel. Emily found American history fascinating, and being able to help bring it alive for school children or tourists delighted her. More than once Lou had to drag her away from some historically interested guest as she explained the process of candle-making or basket weaving, just so she could man the busy register.
Sometimes Emily would bring the twins, or one of the others, to her work after school, trying to make amends for yanking them out of California. Seeing the fatherless children with their mom, Lou made a definite effort to entertain the youngsters, even though the twins preferred standing out on the dirt street to watch the drum and fife players, or the carriages, go by. On one such slow day shortly after school started, Emily returned to work with the twins in tow.
“Lou, I brought the twins today,” she hollered as she entered the store.
“Candy!” David and Denise ran for the counter, seeing who could get there first. Lou straightened up from behind the case.
“What’s all the racket?”
His gravelly voice at one time scared the children, but now Denise answered pertly, “We’re duh racket, Mister Lou!” and she giggled as if she’d told the joke of the year.
David kept jumping up at the candy jar on the counter, not quite able to reach it yet. Stepping up slowly behind her children, Emily smiled apologetically at Lou, who reached for the jar to give the twins their requisite sucker. Unfortunately, the drum and fife team decided to tune up outside, and, after meeting glances, the twins took off for the front door. Lifting her skirts, Emily sprinted after them, afraid they would run pell-mell through the ranks of practicing musicians.
“David! Denise! Stop, this instant!” she shouted, exiting after her offspring.
Emily caught a break today. One of the open carriages usually carrying tourists and liveried stablemen had halted nearly in front of the store as well. Next to the band, horses were on the twins’ favorites list. Skidding to a stop, David and Denise stared at the large animal. The driver looked down at the kids, and then raised his gaze to Emily. And it remained on her.
“I’m so sorry! Kids, you could’ve gotten hurt!” Emily began to admonish, but David argued, “They were already stoppeded! “
“I was stopped. I saw them.” Swinging down from his seat on the carriage, the liveried driver landed gracefully on his feet in front of Emily and the twins. All three of them looked up into his face. Waay up into his face.
Emily’s first reaction was: he’s really tall. Second, he’s young. And, really tall. And cute. And really tall...
“Thank you, but they know better than to run into a street. Any kind of street,” and Emily shot her children a remarkably stifling look. Innocence radiated from their cherubic faces.
“Well, no harm done. By the way, I’m Jason Whitaker, driver extraordinaire. I’ve seen you around. You work with Lou. Amazing, that.” He grinned, showing perfectly white teeth. Really, he was quite good looking. And tall...
Emily shook her head minutely at her wayward thoughts, holding her hand out while saying, “Hi, Jason. I’m Emily Wakeland, and these urchins are David and Denise, my twins. Say hello to Mr. Whitaker, kids.”
They dutifully complied, even as they eyed his harnessed white horse, anticipation fairly vibrating through them.
Catching their looks, Jason motioned to the carriage, asking, “Wanna take a spin?”
Turning quickly to their mother, the twins chanted while jumping up and down, “Yes, yes! Let us, please!”
Starting to shake her head, Emily glanced over her shoulder and spied Lou standing on the boardwalk in front of his store. He nodded at her, so Emily had no choice but to help her dancing children into the carriage amidst their cries of “Yay!” She then took Jason’s large hand and seated herself next to him.
Setting the carriage into motion, with the twins sitting quietly in awe for once, Emily started the conversational ball rolling by asking, “Have you worked here long, Mr. Whitaker?”
Glancing at her with an engaging grin, Jason replied easily, “Call me Jason. Mr. Whitaker is my dad, and yeah, I’ve been here a coupla years. I’m an emergency room nurse at the hospital in Hampton. I work three twelve hour shifts over there, so I pick up some extra work here on my days off. I like horses, and history. This is mellow work. It’s a perfect fit. How about you? What brought you and your family to our neck of the woods? I heard y’all are from California, right?”
Emily grinned to herself over his “y’all,” but answered carefully, not sure how much she should divulge to this good-looking stranger.
“Yes, we are. Southern California, actually.” She lowered her voice in hopes the twins wouldn’t hear. “My husband passed away a couple of years ago, and, well, I have family out here, so we finally made the move. It’s been rough these last two months; I’m not going to lie. California is a whole lot different than Virginia, that’s for sure!”
Emily stopped before she ended up telling her life story. Why she immediately felt so comfortable with Jason, she had no clue. Perhaps she missed male companionship of her own age, or perhaps it was his kind demeanor stemming from his career choice. Whatever the case, Emily closed her mouth, cautious.
“Wow! I’m really sorry about your husband! Was it cancer? I mean, I can understand if you don’t want to talk about him...” His stricken look forced Emily to respond.
“No. He had an aneurism at forty-two.” Glancing back at the twins, who were looking behind the carriage at the moment, Emily continued, “The twins don’t remember him, really, but my other kids do. Like I said, we needed to have family around.”
Mentioning the other children was always a gamble around men; after all, Emily came with a lot of baggage. And what was she even thinking that way for, anyhow? The idea boggled her mind, even as Emily studied Jason’s ruggedly handsome good looks.
“Well, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m divorced; no kids. How many children do you have?” No censure in his tone; just curiosity.
“Five,” Emily replied apologetically.
Why? Her mind screamed at her. Haven’t you had enough with handsome men? Swear off them, right now! Of course, that was her cautious shoulder angel talking, while the other angel said, “The best thing to do after you’re thrown off a horse is to get right back on. In this case it was men, not horses. Terrible analogy, Emily thought to herself disgustedly.
“Man, that must be tough! I’m glad you have some support around here.” The carriage slowed, and Emily realized they had made a large circle and returned to Tarpley’s store front. Losing track of time rarely happened to Emily. Once again, she chalked that up to her male companion.
“Go aroun’ again! Go aroun’ again!” The twins chanted, even as Emily shook her head no.
Starting to rise, Emily’s eyes caught Jason’s and he said quickly, “What time do you usually get off? I’m done around this time.”
He’s going to ask you out, girl! Emily mentally told herself. Aloud, she found herself replying, “Me, too. Lou knows I have all my kids to round up and feed at home.”
“Maybe after work one day we can get something to eat. Bring the kids.”
“That would be nice,” Emily found herself replying, while one shoulder angel hid its face, and the other gave a fist pump.
***
Emily and Jason went out on their first date two days later at a pizzeria, and her children got to go along, too. Located in Merchant’s Square just outside the Revolutionary City, the pizzeria boasted the best pies and games in southern Virginia. The students from the adjacent William and Mary College seemed to agree, for the place burst at the seams with college kids when Emily and her brood entered, only to find Jason waiting just inside the door. With the jukebox blaring, a person almost had to yell to be heard.
Hesitant to start another relationship with a man, Emily forced herself to accept Jason’s offer, after continual nagging by Annalise and Tim. They had told her they couldn’t be her only social life; she needed to work on friends. Reluctantly, Emily agreed. After all, she did find Jason easy to talk to, as well as extremely easy on the eyes, but she was just starting to move beyond the memory of Shane McNeal. This time, she vowed, she would go slowly, and not let her hormones rule the roost. This time her head, and not her heart, would lead the way.
“Hey! You came! So, introduce me!” Jason hunkered down to be at the kids’ level, which endeared him to Emily immediately as she presented her children from the eldest, Dana, to the youngest, David (by four minutes). Dana nodded coolly, Darcy gave a lackluster “Hello,” and the youngsters hugged him around the neck exuberantly. Rising to his full six-foot-two height, Jason smiled warmly at Emily, who couldn’t resist a full smile in return.
Her date was definitely hot, with a baseball player’s body encased in snug jeans and short-sleeved gray polo shirt. Short, spiked, sandy blonde hair emphasized gray eyes and tanned face, and his wide smile showcased brilliant white teeth. Emily had attempted to dress better for this date, in a floral printed sundress, sandals, and matching sweater.
Taking hold of Emily’s elbow gently, Jason said close to her ear, for the volume level inside could crack ear drums, “I had them reserve a table for us, believe it or not. C’mon,” and he pulled her farther into the melee, while she dragged her kids along.
Sliding onto the cushioned bench, Emily gave each child three dollars to spend on the games while the pizza baked. After asking Dana and Darcy to keep an eye on the three others, Emily sat back on the seat across from Jason, saying, “I can’t sit here long. The twins, well, they kinda need supervision.”
“Got it. Wanna go play with them while we wait?”
Oh, my goodness! Was this man for real, or what? Any male willing to play with her kids received a sky-high rating in Emily’s book. Sliding back out of the booth, but leaving her sweater as a place holder, Emily impetuously grabbed Jason’s hand and led him to the twins and Danielle. If he noticed her taking the lead, Jason wisely kept mum, and followed along.
“Dance with us, Jason!” cried Denise, while Danielle seconded the motion in a high-pitched soprano. They stood in front of a DDR, which Emily knew they were lousy at, but curious at how Jason would react, she waited for his response. Standing in front of the DDR and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Jason glanced at Emily, gave a rueful smile, and said, “What the heck. Let’s go!” He put in the money, let Danielle pick some convoluted tune unrecognizable to anyone, and gamely kept up with the music, cowboy boots and all.
Danielle squealed with glee, watching the big man try to dance on the little impressed footprints. Emily was busy playing Whack a Mole with David, but she took time to catch sight of her date finishing dead last. Turning to step off the DDR mat, Jason caught Emily’s smile and grinned right back, sauntering up to her and saying, “That’s a lot tougher than it looks. C’mon, I bet our pizza is ready,” and he gently grabbed hold of Emily’s hand and towed her back to their seats, her hungry children following.
Returning to the booth, Emily caught Dana and Darcy passing dark glares at her hand in Jason’s, and she fought the urge to let go. Of course her children preferred Shane McNeal to Jason Whitaker! They didn’t know Jason yet, and Shane was a pretty strong personality for any man to follow. But she was willing to bet her kids would come to like Jason, just as she already felt comfortable with him. He seemed quieter, more introspective than Shane; however, that also made him more even- tempered than Shane. A good quality in a man, in Emily’s opinion. Perhaps having been married before also meant Jason wasn’t afraid of commitment; not that she was looking for commitment anyway, right now. Shane had cured her of that search.
The rest of the date went rather smoothly, Emily felt. Her two eldest, of course, spoke little and only when spoken to directly. The three youngsters climbed all over the booth, as well as around Jason and Emily. The man in question suffered silently, and with a smile. It was nine o’clock before they knew it, and Emily stared at her watch before saying, while packing up, “Oh, my goodness! We need to get home! This is a school night! How did we let time get away so fast?”
But she already knew the answer. Jason provided a good time for all. Amidst groans and dragging feet, Emily and Jason herded the children out to the Taurus, the night still cloudy and humid. While the kids clambered in, Jason gently turned Emily to face him and said, “I’d like to follow you home, just to make sure you get home safely. I won’t come in; I know you have your hands full.”
Looking up into Jason’s gray eyes, and seeing a flash of brown in her memory, Emily found herself nodding and replying, “That would be great.”
Jason glanced down at her lips momentarily, then reluctantly let go of Emily’s arm and said, half turning away,“Let me just get my truck!” and he was sprinting across the still full lot.
Knowing a kiss was in his thoughts, Emily thoughtfully got into her Taurus, oblivious for once to the racket emanating from the car when she opened the car door.
***
Emily and Jason went out again the following Friday night, right after work, so the kids stayed with their Aunt Annalise and Uncle Tim. Annalise was excited her sister was finally venturing back into the dating pool; her sister’s former boss had done quite a number on Emily, and Annalise wished she could give him a piece of her mind. She had to be content with seeing her sister dating once more.
The first weekend in October kicked off the harvest events at the Revolutionary City, and to put everyone in the fall mood, the Williamsburg Foundation put on a bit of a hoe-down for its employees at the Raleigh Tavern after the City closed. Eating, drinking and dancing were the order of business and Emily found herself celebrating like the rest of her coworkers; loudly and boisterously, while still in costume.
After singing three songs off-key, Emily threw in the towel partway through the evening and found a bench to sit on, an oasis in the noisy, wood-paneled tavern, closely followed by Jason carrying a tankard of beer.
Straddling the bench to face Emily, seated more demurely, Jason leaned forward and said in her ear, “I’m glad you came tonight, Emily. I was trying to get up the nerve to ask you out, but your boss is like a vulture. He intimidates me.” Emily snorted and turned to Jason, eyes touching on his sparkling ones, shining with mischief.
“I have a hard time believing anyone or anything intimidates you, Jason. You exude self-assurance.”
A slow smile crossed his face. “Good to hear, even if it’s not true. Lou has always made me nervous. Most people, really. We’re all amazed you’ve tamed him.”
“I have that effect on people, or so I’ve been told,” commented Emily, remembering.
Strains of fiddle music started up in the anteroom, to a unanimous cheer. Gulping some of his beer and watching Emily sip her white wine, Jason asked, “Wanna dance?”
He leaned his left arm on the table top, edging himself a bit closer to Emily.
“I’d like that,” and she grabbed his hand, surprising herself by letting him lead the way.
The tunes were vigorous, not allowing much chance for talk, but plenty of opportunities to touch and flirt. Dancing in period costume challenged the twenty-first century partiers. When the fiddlers finally set down their bows for a break after quite a long set, both Jason and Emily were sweating and looking for their beverages. Retrieving them and pointing to a side door, Jason stepped aside to allow Emily out into the cooler evening air.
The humidity had dropped, though the temperature was still on the mild side for October. Heaving a sigh, Emily leaned against the picket fence, finishing her wine off in one small gulp, watching Jason do the same with his beer. A few other employees lingered outside cooling off, but under the bower as the ystood, Emily and Jason weren’t readily visible. Placing his oversized mug on the ground, Jason pulled Emily down onto the bower bench, relieving her of her wine glass and placing it beside his. Turning to face her once more, Jason reached out and brushed a strand of her curly hair behind her ear.
He left his hand there while asking, “Do you like me a little, Emily, or is it too soon to ask?”
Emily’s eyes flew to his, even as she placed a gentle hand on Jason’s thigh. Muscle jumping, the rest of him remained still, waiting. Taking a deep breath, Emily responded.
“Yes, Jason, I do like you. A lot. But I come with a lot of baggage, and I want to go slow. I-um- entered a relationship too soon recently, and got burned, and I don’t think I’m ready to get serious yet. But, yes, to repeat myself, I do like you, Jason,” and she reached out and placed her fingers around his wrist, holding his hand to her hair.
“That’s an answer I can work with. I jumped into marriage too quickly, so I understand where you’re coming from. As long as you give me a chance to work my magic, I’m good with slow.”
“Work your magic? What are you, Penn and Teller?” Emily grinned, letting go of Jason’s hand and putting her own in her lap. Their eyes meeting, she watched as his gaze lowered to her lips while he replied softly, “No, this kind of magic,” and he leaned in carefully, eyes closing as he touched his lips to hers.
Emily’s eyes closed as well, and she lost herself in the sensation of being kissed by a man once more. Turning his head, Jason brought up his hands to cup her face, lengthening the kiss at the feel of her acquiescence. Emily sighed contentedly, enjoying the gentle embrace.
When Jason pulled back slightly, a smile pulled at his lips as he whispered, “That was nice.”
Emily leaned in for a repeat embrace, content to know this man was solid, gentle, and not going anywhere soon. He wanted her, and was willing to wait for her. The fireworks would come.