The Fight
Kristin paced in front of the theater, hesitating to go in until JC arrived. She had known she would be late; she’d let Chelsea know she was running late. The girl had been strangely quiet and the mother had chalked it up to a first solo jitters. But it was nearly time to go in...
She punched JC’s number in her cell.
“JC.”
“Where in the hell are you?” she demanded.
“In LA.”
“Why aren’t you here? The performance starts in fifteen minutes.”
“I called Chelsea and told her I wasn’t going to make it,” he told her. “I left a message on the machine at home.”
“I never made it home.” Kristin was ready for a slow burn. How could he do this? Chelsea had been thrilled that he would attend. “I don’t have time to argue right now. All I can say is I’m very disappointed for Chelsea.”
“I’ll call later, baby.”
“Yeah – whatever.” She severed the connection and went to support her daughter.
“Hey, Mom.” Chelsea hugged her mother warmly when they met after her performance.
“There’s my beautiful ballerina.” Kristin smoothed the girl’s riotous waves. “Your father would be so proud...”
Chelsea dropped her eyes. “I guess.”
“I’m sorry Josh didn’t make it, baby.”
“He–he’s an important guy. He had things come up.”
Kristin took her daughter’s chin in hand. Dammit, the girl had tears in her eyes. “He is not more important than you are, Chelsea. I don’t care who he is or how much damn money he has. As far as I am concerned, no excuse he has is good enough.”
“Mom...”
“Don’t defend him.”
“Bet he didn’t know you were a mama bear.” Chelsea gave her mother a recovering smile.
“He should have guessed.”
“Hey, baby,” JC called over the connection.
“What you did was inexcusable, Mr. I-Am-A-Popstar.” Kristin fairly spat at him.
He was taken aback. “How was Chels’ performance?”
“Like you care.”
“I do. Listen, Kris, I...”
“No, you listen and hear me well, Chasez. I don’t care if the damn Pope wanted an audience. You had a prior commitment to my daughter. Nothing else on your fucking popstar agenda was worth breaking her heart,” Kristin growled. “We aren’t here at your convenience.”
“Kris, let me talk.” JC tried to stay calm. It was getting difficult with her swearing at him.
“You know, I don’t want to hear anything but an apology and a promise.”
“I’ll make it up to Chelsea, baby. Anything she wants...”
“What she wanted was for the man she calls ‘Dad’ to be there like every other father – and he wasn’t. I’m not going to let you hurt my child, Josh.”
“I need you to calm down, Kris,” he said patiently. “I love you and I...”
“I’m sorry. I–I just can’t talk anymore. I’m too mad.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Don’t bother.”
“I’ll try to get back there...”
“Don’t bother coming on some damn whim. We deserve better. Good night.”
JC stared at his phone. That was twice in one night she’d hung up on him!
JC stared at the ceiling of his bedroom in LA. He was so close to Kristin – the same state for once. But he might as well been a galaxy away. They hadn’t spoken in two weeks, not since he failed to show at Chelsea’s dance solo. Kristin told him not to bother coming up to Santa Clara if he could only come on a whim. She had been furious with him for breaking his promise to the girl. It hadn’t mattered he had been asked to a last minute guest appearance. She expected him to go to a high school dance recital. Chelsea hadn’t busted his chops about it. Sure, she had sounded disappointed but not devastated. So, here he was mere miles away – and lonely.
He missed his family – and he had come to think of the three of them as a family unit. Nothing was better than the three of them sitting on the sofa, eating pizza and watching movies. Well, being in bed and making love to Kristin rated right up there, too. But there was no lovemaking going on in his house tonight.
“Screw this!” Flinging himself off the bed, he began tossing clothes into a bag. He was not going to be alone one more night!
Chelsea skipped down the steps to answer the doorbell. Her mother wasn’t home yet so she wasn’t expecting anyone. Through the peephole she saw a solemn JC. She tossed the door open. “Dad!”
JC gave her an uncertain smile. “Am I still ‘Dad’ to you? I thought I might be ‘mud’.”
“Naugh, I recover better than Mom.” Chelsea looked pointedly at the bag in his grip. “You may still be relegated to the guest room though.”
“I can deal with that. Being without you two, I can’t.”
The girl stood back and allowed him in. “You know, it just takes two little words.” She closed the door behind him.
JC set the bag to one side of the stairs. “I told her ‘I love you’.”
“That’s three.”
He looked at her stupidly.
She threw up her hands. “’I’m sorry’ would work. You never apologized according to Mom.”
“I’m not good with that.”
“You’d better get good at it if you plan on screwing up like that. It was a horseshit excuse. I’ll tell you right now that first priority is family with Mom.”
“Speaking of which...where is she?”
“She had some things to clear up at the office after she picked me up. She wanted to give me her full attention this weekend. She’s taking Monday off because I have a long weekend.” Chelsea waved to the family room area. “Guess I won’t get her full attention now that you’re here.” Chelsea quipped, grinning.
“I can go...” he offered half-heartedly.
As they walked to the sofa, they automatically put an arm around the other’s shoulder.
“I missed you, Dad.”
“You could have called.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to get between you and Mom in a fight. You are going to apologize, aren’t you?”
“Would it be accepted?”
“She never took off her ring.”
Which meant Kristin had just been waiting for him to come to his senses. He nodded.
“I haven’t had dinner – wanna order something in?”
It felt good, JC told himself as he challenged Chelsea to her favorite computer game. The only thing missing was Kristin. He wondered about his reception when she arrived home to find him there.
That thought had barely completed when the front door opened.
It had been a hellishly long day, Kristin grumbled to herself as she entered the house.
“I’m home!” she called as she tossed her briefcase and purse to the foyer credenza. She began stripping right there as was her habit. Off came the jacket. “Did you get something to eat, baby?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Chelsea answered. “Uh, Mom....”
“I’m sorry I’m so late. People who know nothing about computers shouldn’t pretend they do.” Off came the skirt. Kicking off her pumps, she wiggled her toes with a sigh.
The woman didn’t buy sexy nightgowns but her lingerie was made for sex! JC watched as the prim suit gave way to burgundy tap pants and matching chemise – both trimmed in pale rose lace – and then her thigh high stockings...she was a goddess...his goddess.
“Uh, Mom, Dad’s here,” Chelsea announced.
“Wha?...” Kristin spun around in surprise – only to find JC’s avid gaze on her attire. As his eyes slid up her legs to her middle to her breasts then to her face, she felt her skin heat and her nipples tighten. It was almost as if he had touched her. Nervously, she slid her tongue out to wet her lips.
JC groaned inwardly, hardening at the sight of her little pink tongue.
“I think I’ll go call Cara,” Chelsea stated as she hopped from her chair. “Can we go see a movie tomorrow maybe?” she asked as she passed her dumbfounded mother.
Kristin couldn’t take her eyes off JC as he rose from the sofa. “I—um—sure,” she replied absently. Oh God, he looked so good...
“Okay, thanks!” Chelsea disappeared up the stairs as the adults simply stared at each other.
JC was the first to speak. “Hey, Kris.”
“I didn’t expect to find you here.” The censure was clear in her voice.
He had to grin. Only Kristin could stand there in sexy underwear and be a ball-buster.
“What’s so funny?” she snapped.
“You are, baby. I mean you’re half-naked and being my boss lady. Jesus, I missed you.” He ended on a soft note of wonder.
Some of the chill thawed from her demeanor.
“I forgot how great it was just to listen to Chels tell me about school.” He shook his head. “I must be getting old.”
“Its called maturity.” She cautiously approached the sofa. All she really wanted to do was throw herself at him and forget their argument. If she did that it would be setting herself up for more of his selfish behavior in the future. She had more than just her own desires to consider. She was responsible for her child as well.
“Krissie...” His voice was a rough, low growl and he cupped his hands over her shoulders to bring her closer.
She was melting inside...forgetting why she had been so angry with him. She could feel the heat emanating from him...
JC brushed his lips to her ear, knowing his warm breath made her shiver. “I’m sorry, Kris. Forgive me.”
Sorry was good...Forgiveness was possible...What else had she planned to extract from him? It was forgotten when his mouth caressed the sensitive cord on the side of her neck.
“Josh...” she whimpered when he pulled away.
Resuming his seat on the sofa, he pulled her down astride his lap. His lips and tongue continued to torment her neck and shoulders as she pressed herself against his lean body.
“God, baby, I’m so hard for you...I could do you right here.” Slipping his big hands beneath her chemise and slid them to cup her breasts, his thumbs strumming her nipples. “And we haven’t even kissed...”
Kristin ground her hips into his. “Kiss me then.”
He obeyed, readily, hungrily. God she tasted hot, sweet, exotic...By the time he lifted his mouth from hers, he was panting heavily.
She tore at the buttons of his shirt, urgently needing to feel his hot skin against her palms.
“Mmm, yeah...” He slid one hand beneath the hem of one brief pant leg to tease her mound. That dewy slit was wet, swollen, and hot. “Damn!” he muttered when she rubbed herself hard against his hand.
Kristin unzipped his jeans and stroked him firmly.
“Kris!” he gasped in pleasure. “Oh, yeah, that feels so fucking great.” To reciprocate, he bent his head to suck at her hard beaded nipples through the satin. Occasionally he’d tugged at one tenderly with his teeth.
“Ah!”
“Lift up,” he rasped. Once she obeyed, he pushed his jeans down just enough to free his rock hard manhood. He pushed aside the center panel of her pants and impaled her as he jerked her down on him.
Instead of crying out, she sank her teeth into his cotton-covered shoulder.
“Damn! Ride it, baby. Ride it hard,” he demanded.
She rocked and rotated her hips ruthlessly against him, greedy for that perfect pleasure only JC had delivered. Her mate...
“Krissie...damn, baby!...Hurry or I’ll...” Just before he went over the edge, he felt her body tighten around him.
Kristin slammed her mouth over his as they let the tidal wave of animalistic pleasure crash over them and sweep them away. She felt his moan to the bottom of her feet as her unreleased cry of pleasure echoed in her brain. Finally limp, she collapsed heavily on his chest.
“Oh yeah, that was good,” JC panted when he found oxygen again.
“Good?” She raised a quizzical brow.
“Fucking fantastic,” he amended with a grin.
She grinned down at him. “Prepared to be ravaged all night?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Are you? We’ll take turns.”
In all seriousness, their eyes met.
“I love you Krissie,” he whispered against her lips. He thanked God for two little words!
Kristin gave her legs a moment to recover, then rose to her feet. “I have to change clothes.” She moved towards the stairs.
Hurriedly rearranging his clothes, he caught up with her, pulling her back to his chest. “Why not just undress?” he asked, his mouth on the nape of her neck, her weak spot.
“Because I need to speak with Chelsea and I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Can I fix you a sandwich or something? Heat up some soup?” JC offered. He knew his way around her kitchen better than his own probably.
She turned her head with the intention of meeting his gaze but found herself distracted by his beautifully sculpted lips. “BLT?” she asked breathlessly.
Those inviting lips smiled. “If that’s what you want.”
“For now....”
“I can wait for the ‘later’,” he told her. Realizing she was nearly hypnotized by his mouth, he kept talking in a low purr. “Because we got all night, baby. Don’t plan on much sleeping.”
“O—okay.”
“Kris?”
“Umm....what?”
“If you don’t quit looking at me like that, I’m gonna carry you to your bedroom and skip ‘later’.” Instead of a hot kiss, he bussed her forehead tenderly. “Go change.” Releasing her, he headed for the kitchen.
Dressed in a worn sweat suit, Kristin sought out Chelsea.
The girl was gyrating to some unheard music coming from her disk player’s earphones as she danced near the foot of her bed.
Sneaking up behind her, the mother teasingly smacked her with a large stuffed toy from her shelf.
“Hey!” Chelsea protested, laughing. She turned to her mother as she pulled off the headphones.
“Moth-er!”
“Daugh-ter!”
“Go beat on your boyfriend. He’d probably like it,” the girl taunted.
“Where did I go wrong?” Kristin sighed.
“Letting me be who I am, I suppose.” Chelsea flopped back on the bed. “What’s up? Why aren’t you with Dad?”
“I wanted to change. He’s making me a sandwich.” Kristin sat on the bed. Automatically, Chelsea snuggled her head in her mother’s lap, turning into her little girl. Stroking her daughter’s hair, she asked, “How do you feel about Josh being back here?”
“I really missed him, Mom. Kinda got used to being able to beat the crap out of him at Snowball.”
“I mean after what he did.”
“We all screw up. He’s not used to having family obligations. He’ll get better at it.”
“No grudges?”
“No grudges. Honest. I like him a lot. Not exactly father material yet, but he’s a blast as a big brother.”
“Okay. Thanks for the honesty.”
Chelsea grinned up at her. “Honesty I got by the truck loads!”
Kristin tweaked the girl’s nose playfully. “You certainly do. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“Question...”
“Shoot.”
“Bang.”
“Ha-ha. What’s the question?”
“What’s the deal with that outfit? I mean he saw you in your underwear – now, that?”
“It’s called comfort. I don’t particularly have to walk around half-naked to impress Josh.” Kristin rose from the bed and headed towards the door.
“Nope, he’s pretty easy where you’re concerned,” Chelsea retorted. “Mom?”
When Kristin turned to see what the girl wanted, the stuff toy Kristin used as a weapon smacked her in the face. “Brat!” she laughingly announced.
JC was just placing the bacon on the sandwich when Kristin entered her spacious kitchen. Standing at the center island, the man had the concentration of an artist creating a masterpiece. Sliding her arms around his lean waist, she snuggled against his back. “It’s just a BLT.”
“Hey, baby.” JC corrected her, “It’s a BLT for my tired, beautiful, precious fiancée.” He knew exactly how she liked it – toasted honey wheat bread, butter both pieces but mayo only for one, lots of crisp bacon, a big slice of beef-steak tomato, one leaf of romaine.
“It looks perfect.”
“It should be! Have a seat.” He placed the plate on one of the flowered placemats at one of the four stools at the island. Once she was seated and eating, he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured her a glass of milk.
“How are your housekeeping and laundry skills?”
JC laughed at the question as he took the stool beside her. “What? I like to keep things neat, but I hate laundry.”
“Oh...”
“Oh?”
“I was going to ask you about being a househusband.”
“I can do that, baby, when I’m not working.”
Kristin concentrated on chewing. “You make the best damn BLT,” she stated.
“Are you asking me to move in, Kris?” He wanted that so badly, wanted to spend his mornings waking with her, his evenings and nights with her.
“I know Santa Clara’s not exactly an entertainment mecca...”
“I think it’s a good place to raise a family.”
“You’ll miss LA and the parties and New York and....”
Taking her chin in hand, he forced her to look at him. “Kristin, are you asking me to move in with you and Chelsea?” he demanded quietly.
She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered uncertainly.
His heart thumped excitedly in his chest. It as one more concession she was making for him. “I’d be thrilled to be your househusband, Krissie. I’ll even do the laundry.”
“We can share.”
“Baby, there is one thing I would need.”
“What?”
“I like having a home studio.”
“Oh...how much is that?”
“I’m not talking cost – I mean do you want to devote space to the project?”
“We hardly use the basement...will that do?”
JC kissed her soundly. “Lady, you just got yourself a live-in househusband.”