Ch 47 ~ Feels Like Home

“I’m sorry.  Are you on LSD?  Because it sure as hell seems like you’re tripping.”

His belly laugh echoed throughout the entryway as he gestured for her to follow him inside, which she did only reluctantly.  Primarily because she was… curious. 

Or at least that was the justification she pulled out of the yarn basket of knots her brain had become.  In reality, she had no idea as to why she was blindly following along, aiding and abetting in a trespassing charge.  Rachel wouldn’t do well at the county jail when they arrested her for breaking and entering.

The door closed behind them and Rachel discovered that the formal living and dining rooms were as empty as the day she left. 

He took her hand and led her behind the main staircase and into the family room, where she found that it, too, was exactly as she remembered.  The contract had specified all the furniture and furnishings be left in the house, so the family room with its sofa, chair and other accessories were still there.  In the exact same spots she had left them in almost a year ago. 

But even more surprising than that....  There was a fire happily crackling away in the fireplace, warming the room while a bottle of wine chilled in a bucket on the coffee table. 

“Make yourself at home, baby.”  Jon released her hand to plop down on the edge of the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, a silent invitation for her to join him.  Yet she simply stood and stared as he uncorked the wine bottle and filled the two accompanying glasses. 

“What… is this?” she asked, gesturing dumbly to the romantic setting.

“This?”  He put the bottle back in the bucket and offered her one of the glasses.  “It’s a lovely glass of wine in your family room.  Sit down and enjoy.”

She accepted the wine and took a deep swallow.  “Could you please be a little more specific?  My family room?  How is that possible?”

He grinned that million dollar smile, leaning back and crossing his legs and looking quite pleased with himself.  “Family room, living room…. Bed room.  It’s all yours, Rach.  When you put the place up for sale, I figured I’d buy it and give it to you so you’d at least stay near me.  That was supposed to give me time to figure out a way to win you back.  Trouble is, you left before I got a chance to give it to ya.”

Rachel sat down next to him and dropped her hand to his leg.  “You bought this house?  For me?”

Smiling, he rested his hand on top of hers and squeezed.  “Welcome to the party, baby.  That’s what I’ve been sayin’ for ten minutes now.”

She was so dumbfounded that she didn’t even flinch at his smart ass remark, and it was hard for Rachel to pinpoint exactly why she was so flummoxed.  She’d always known he was a generous man, but this…  The fact that he’d bought her the beautiful house she’d been so heartbroken to leave – without her knowing it…  Well, it was a tangible monument to how bad their communication skills had been.  

“And you kept it even after I left?”

“Couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else living here,” he said simply before shrugging and taking a sip of wine.  “Sometimes I’d come over here and wonder where it all went wrong.  Other times I’d remember all that went right.  I had moments where I wanted to burn it to the ground, but mostly I just missed you.”

Before that moment, Rachel would’ve sworn it was physically and emotionally impossible for her to love this man any more fully than she already did.  But he had just proven her wrong.   She could feel the spiral of affection he so often brought out in her, but this time it was spinning at warp speed.   The memories they’d built and shared inside these four walls weren’t lost forever!  They’d merely been put on the shelf to be brought out at the moment she’d least expected it. 

Rachel curled up next to the tanned, unshaven man next to her and fingered the bounty of hair at his neck, pulling him closer for a simple, sweet, tender kiss.  "I missed you, too.  And this house.  And all the times together we had here, both good and bad.  I...  I can't believe that you did this, but I'm so glad you did.” 

Looking around the room, a wave of wonderful, nostalgic memories rushed through her mind. There were so many good times in this house, but Rachel was practical to a fault.  That meant, no matter how good the memories, she was mortified at the three million dollar price tag on this ‘gift’. 

“But, Jon…. What on earth are we going to do with it?  I mean...it’s too expensive to just let it sit here, and you already have nearly twenty thousand square feet next door!”

“I don’t give a shit what you do with it so long as you don’t sell it,” he responded without concern.  “You told me once that this place could be a beautiful home.  Personally, I’d like to see you make it one, but that’s up to you.  If you just wanna make this our secret love shack…”  He grinned that lecherous grin she adored.  “Hey, I’m cool with that, too.” 

“This place doesn’t have the ghosts that my house has,” she pondered out loud, after giving him a gentle elbow in the ribs.  “Or the ghosts that your house has, for that matter.   The memories here – whether good or bad – they’re ours and that tickles me.  I love the idea of a home that’s just ours.”

“Then make it home, Rach.  We’ll use the other house for formal events and when the kids are here.”

“But Jon…” she protested out of practical obligation.  “It’ll cost a small fortune to furnish this place.  And the maintenance?  Geez…the taxes alone are probably more than most people make in year.”

“It’s only money,” he shrugged. “I’ll just go make more.”

“But…” Rachel was overwhelmed with a gazillion thoughts bouncing around her brain.  Should she keep stressing about the financial obligation the house carried with it, or ask what color Jon wanted in the master bedroom?  Practicality won out again.  “But I want to be able to contribute.  To carry my own weight.  I don’t want you to bear the financial burden…”

Jon set his wineglass on the side table and a single swift movement that any panther would be proud of, laid her between him and the back of the couch.  Before she could do more than open her mouth to take a breath, he was kissing that breath right out of her and effectively interrupting her rant. 

“Baby, shut up, will ya?” he murmured, his mouth barely grazing hers as he spoke.  “Don’tcha think – after everything we’ve been through – you can let the money shit go?”

His mouth so close to her was a definite distraction, but Rachel was used to being an equal partner and the mere thought of Jon supporting “their” home couldn’t be made palatable, even by those perfect lips of his. 

“I don’t want to be one more financial responsibility for you.”

“Rach,” he sighed, clearly nearing the end of his patience for this topic.  “Maybe you could just let me win this fight without goin’ ten rounds, huh?  Because the God’s honest truth is that I don’t care if you never make another dollar.  It’d suit me if you decided to walk away from that job and just come home.”

It was a beautiful gesture, while she’d bludgeoned it within an inch of its life, Rachel didn’t have the heart to kill Jon’s obvious delight in presenting her with the property she’d come to love.  This was one of those times she knew she should make a conscious effort to be a gracious receiver and not steal his thunder.  He wanted her to have this, so she would. 

Before she could voice her acceptance, Jon slid a heavy hand up her thigh and dug his fingers in, putting her libido on high alert.  The teeny-tiny fine hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention when his lips skated along the underside of her jaw, tickling the flesh there with his soft chuckle. “Or, you could just marry me.  Would that make you feel better about the money thing?”

Amusement trumped arousal, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.  His whole marriage proposal shtick had become more of a habit than a true desire to get married, but she gave the guy kudos for his persistence – and for presenting her with an easy out. 

“If I shut up about the money will you do the same about marriage?” she giggled around a soft moan, when he sunk those perfectly even teeth into the fleshy part of her shoulder.

“That’s all it’ll take to hush your sexy little mouth about money?” His hand pushed under the hem of her top, spanning the thin flesh at her ribcage with his heated palm.

“Mhm.”  She rolled her head back into the sofa with a happy sigh.  Sex in this house.  With him.  On this couch.  Rachel never thought it would happen again, and she was blissfully squirmy at the notion.  “That and your promise not to bitch about the outrageous dent in your bank account when I start decorating this place.”

“I already told you, spend whatever you want.”

Rachel slipped her leg between his and lightly kissed his mouth as her fingers pushed into the hair above his ears.  It was quite possible that she had a legitimate fetish about his hair.  There was something about the feel of it sliding between her fingers that turned on the sprinklers in her panties.

“Makes me kinda glad I used one of the other bedrooms and kept the master staged for showings,” she purred, watching the varied shades of blond sift through her fingertips.  “Because that means we’ll finally have a bedroom that’s just ours.    No ghosts.”  She snickered softly under her breath and her eyes slid over to connect with his fiery blue irises.  “It’ll be like we’re Ghostbusters or something.” 

“Just don’t go calling me the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” Jon growled, his hand flicking open the back of her bra while he thrust his arousal into her thigh.  “Because I ain’t ever soft around you.” 

“And that’s just the way I like it,” she purred, sliding her leg back and forth against the hardness she would love to have buried deep inside her.  But, while the idea of having sex on the couch was wonderfully nostalgic, she’d much prefer to make love with him someplace a little more comfortable.  “Is my bed still here?”

Jon nodded even as his hand slipped around and covered her breast. “Yeah.  May be a little rumpled from the last time I slept here, but other than that, it’s just like you left it.”

Rachel’s hand covered Jon’s, making him stop the teasing and tugging that he was so intent upon, and she drew her eyebrows down into a frown.  “You slept here?” 

“Slept.  Got drunk.  Wallowed in my misery.  Being here was the closest I could get to you.” 

Oh my word.

She had never let herself imagine that he’d been as decimated as she was during that time.  That he’d been in as much pain as much as she was.

No longer caring about a bed, Rachel slid her hand into the hair behind Jon’s ear and around to the back of his head.  The blue eyes she was so familiar with gazed back at her simmering with a vulnerability she wasn’t familiar with. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his mouth, her physical need now fully consumed by a more powerful emotional need.  “For all the times I hurt you.  I’m sorry I was so consumed with myself that I didn’t see you were hurting, too.”

Shadows shifted through Jon’s eyes a split second before his mouth was drawn to hers like a fierce magnet, his lips carrying all the angst of their time apart.  His fingers dug into her hip as he hauled her against him, and Rachel was overwhelmed by the emotional urgency that was rare between them.  Mouths melded.  Tongues desperately sought one another – sought solace, forgiveness, closeness and… commitment.

Rachel’s free hand slid under the hem of Jon’s shirt, kneading the muscles at the small of his back while the time continuum became blurred. 

Clothes were pushed away as she was lost in the first time Jon showed up at this house with a bottle of wine that they’d ended up sipping on his dock.   Visions of countless other times that their clothes were scattered here and there – the staircase, by the pool, the kitchen, the sofa, the fireplace. 

They’d planted the seeds here.  In this house. 

On this very couch, they’d loved, fought, made up more times than she could recall. 

Now, as the spring air touched her skin with a caress as intimate as her lover’s, Rachel felt as though they’d come full circle.  This is where it had begun, where it thrived, where it struggled, where it crumbled to pieces…  And now – as their hands roamed over each other’s naked bodies, needing to come together as one beautiful living, loving soul – Rachel was struck at how very right it felt. 

Home.  It feels like home. 

He finally slid inside her, filling her body as full as her heart, and Rachel felt a tear slide down her cheek.  Life was…  Perfect. 

“I love you, Jon… so much.”  

He kissed away the tear without a sound, using his body to speak where words insufficient.  There was no talk filling the air around them, but there was the familiar sounds of the love they shared. 

That love – their love – filled the empty halls to brimming.  It exorcised any lingering ghosts of the past.  It promised a better, brighter future. 

It brought a beautiful home back to joyous life.