A/N: Hey! So it’s been a while. This is the first time I’ve ever written something erotic so please bear with me. It’s not great, I haven’t re-read anything. I cringe too much if I do, but I swear if this isn’t for you there will be two other parts with none so thank you xx I’d also like to add this to the #julychoiceschallenge hosted by @samgtt700, for day 25 (prompt lace). Thanks for telling me about it, lovely! <3
Rating: Matureeeeee!! Please if you are under 18 proceed at your own risk. I’m not stupid, if you’re under 18 you may be reading this, so if you are under 15-16, DO NOT CONTINUE, and if you do, you were warned.
Disclaimer: I do not own all these characters, only most of the plot! Everything else belongs to PB.
Word Count: 2,221
It hadn’t been too long since Dakota and Sam decided to take their…complicated relationship, to the next level. After that, Dakota knew things could possibly get bad, but they didn’t. They hadn’t slept together since then, but the connection between them had deepened. The only downside to everything was that Sofia was around a lot more often so even if she did want to sleep with Sam again, she rarely got any time alone with him. Tonight, Sam was working late so putting the boys to bed was harder because they wanted to say goodnight first. After what what felt like forever, and five books later, Dakota had finally managed to get Mason and Mickey to fall asleep. As she softly and carefully closed their room door, she bumped into a very tired looking Sam. His hair was a mess, his tie was half done and his shirt was untucked.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ He continued to walk to the kitchen with a sigh. Dakota followed behind him, and stood next to him when he placed his hands on the counter. ‘What happened, Sam?’ He looked at her and she could see some of his anger go away as he locked eyes with her.
‘I found out today, that Sofia, wants us to have a baby once we’re married. To make it seem “legit”.’ His tone was a mix of frustration and worry. Dakota placed her hands on Sam’s chest and she could feel his heart beating above what it should be.
‘Ok, breathe, Sam.’
‘How can I—’
‘Just breathe. In and out, real slow.’ Sam smirked at Dakota’s words.
‘I can think of something else we can do like that.’ He brushed some of the hair away from her face, revealing a deep blush on her cheeks.
‘First, before anything else, talk to me.’ She offered a gentle smile and realised her hands were still on his chest. As she went to pull them away, he took her hands in his.
‘I want to see you under me.’ Dakota laughed slightly.
‘Not dirty. Talk to me about what happened.’ Sam sighed again before letting go of her hands and leaning on the counter.
‘Basically, I spent over an hour on the phone arguing with Sofia on why when we get married, I don’t want another child. I mean, that isn’t necessary.’ Dakota hummed in response as she let her mind wander a bit. She knew she was stupid to even imagine any sort of future with her engaged boss, but, she did let herself have the imagined future of them being together and maybe having one or two children together, maybe two girls to balance out the testosterone in the house, maybe buy their own home. Her taking the boys to her lab sometimes so that they could learn how to make things explode in a fun but safe way. Sam noticed her drift away and he slowly let his hand rest on her arm. ‘Where’d your mind go?’ Dakota smiled shyly before asking him,
‘Would you ever want more kids? Take Sofia out of your future and place the right person there. Would you ever consider having another baby?’ Sam smiled down at Dakota. His hand moved slowly up her arm until he reached her neck. He drew gentle circles on her jaw as he let himself drown in her gaze.
‘If I could be with someone who made me feel alive and loved and got along with my boys. Someone that Mason and Mickey adored too. Definitely a woman that can keep up with me in every way.’ He smirked. ‘If I could just be with someone I loved, I would absolutely consider having a bigger family with her.’ She knew he was talking about her, it was so crystal clear in her eyes. She scared herself though, because she knew she was falling in love with him. Only once ever before, had she fallen in love with someone, but even then it had not felt like this. Sam made her feel like she was worth every second they spent together. ‘Do you want kids?’ It was a question that caught her off guard but it made her feel warm inside.
‘If I was with the right person, for sure.’ She smiled at Sam. Her heart rate sped up as she felt Sam’s other hand touch her waist before he pulled her closer to him. ‘We shouldn’t.’ Dakota whispered.
‘Then tell me to stop.’ His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips then back again. He lifted her chin up with his hand that was on her jaw and guided her into a soft kiss. Her arms went around his neck in lightning speed and he quickly changed the position of his hands to cup her ass and pick her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and quickly pulled his lips onto hers. It was as though the world was behind them and nothing else mattered.
‘What if the boys see us?’ She whispered with a heavy breath. He kissed her neck and turned around with her still in his arms.
‘They won’t.’ He turned off the lights and went to his room and shut the door. As much as Dakota wanted to take it in, all she really cared about taking in, was Sam. She kissed him hard before he put her down. She turned around for him to take off her dress. As he unzipped her, he delicately kissed the newly exposed skin until he got to the end and let the fabric drop to the floor. She turned around, glad the light was not on as she had bright red cheeks. It was Sam’s turn to be relieved of his clothes, especially his quickly tightening pants. She did what he did to her back, except to his chest as she took off his shirt, button by button. As soon as his clothes were gone, he almost pounced on her like she was the prey and he the predator. He bit her lip gently after kissing her deeply which made her moan in pleasure. ‘You need to be as quiet as possible.’ She smirked.
‘You may need to make me.’ He growled.
‘Don’t tempt me.’ Her breath caught in her throat as she saw and heard his intensity. It made her belly do a flip and made her core even more wet than she thought possible. He kissed from her neck to just above her panties waist. Sam looked up at her from his position and he could swear he hadn’t felt like this in far too long; she made him feel so animalistic. Her hands flew straight to his hands as he placed one on each thigh. ‘I want your hands to stay above your head.’ His demanding only made her quiver. He held her still as she placed her hands above her head. When he went back to his position, she returned her hands on top of his. ‘What did I say?’
‘I can’t.’ She replied with hardly any volume. He left her on his bed, splayed on top of his cover. It made her feel self conscious as she saw him go into his wardrobe. She knew she looked relieved when he came back, still almost naked but with a box in his hand. He pulled out handcuffs and looked at her. She smiled slightly before placing her hands above her head as a sign of her approval.
‘They’re new. Can’t lie and say I didn’t hope we would be here.’ She groaned as he cuffed her to his bedhead. ‘Now you can’t move your hands. And if you keep silent, you get a reward of your choice.’ She felt him finally put his hands back on her thighs and focused on her breathing and the feelings he gave her as he placed his lips on her; first with her lace panties on, then with none. As she rode her first wave alone, she felt one of Sam’s hands on top of her mouth to cover her sounds. She tried to stop so much of it but she could only withhold so much. Once she gained her breath back, Sam kissed her and whispered, ‘you’re such a good girl, baby.’ Those words from his lips sounded like honey to her. She relished in it all. His voice was so raspy when he said that to her. He then kissed her neck again. ‘What do you want as your reward for being so quiet?’ He looked her in the eyes, waiting for her reply.
‘You. Right now. And no more cuffs.’ He complied. First he undid her handcuffs then took off his underwear. He found it adorable how Dakota still gawked at his size. She pulled him closer to her before kissing him and flipping them so she was on top. ‘My turn to be in control.’ She rummaged through his draw quickly to find protection and quickly ripped it open with her mouth and spat out the wrapper before sliding it onto him. She pumped her hand over him first until he was thrusting into her hand and begging for her to just let him be inside of her. When she was pleased with his begging, she finally let herself go down on him. They both moaned at how good they felt together, as one. Then she started moving. Her hands fell to his shoulders as she grasped them and lost herself in the sweet rhythm of them. She could see he was so close to losing himself so she sped up and allowed him to reach his peak. She lifted herself off of him and allowed him to catch his breath. Once he did, he went to clean himself up before returning to his bed. He knew she didn’t reach her peak with him and he didn’t feel bad, but he didn’t feel 100% satisfied either. When he got into bed he pulled Dakota close to him, her back against his chest, and allowed his fingers to travel to her entrance. Her hand went around and grasped his hair as he started to slowly pump his fingers in and out of her. As she came, he covered her mouth with his large hand again and allowed her to writhe against him. Once her breathing returned to normal, Sam and her cuddled close to each other. Dakota knew she was screwed, but she didn’t know why she’d stop now when she needed to make the most of the time she had left with him. As she drifted to sleep, the last thing she heard was, ‘you are the most beautiful woman I will ever hold in my arms again.’
——
When Dakota woke up, she turned over looking forward to seeing morning Sam, but it was an empty side that she was greeted with. A cold empty side. She felt a pang of disappointment and it only worsened when she heard the clicking of heels outside Sam’s door and the words ‘tell her, or I will do it.’ The elevator door closed and the girl took it as her sign to leave the room. When she saw Sam, he didn’t smile at her like she thought he would and it hurt more than she would ever want to admit.
‘What was that about?’ Sam shrugged leaving her alone in front of his room as he went back to the kitchen. Something was wrong, she knew it was. She followed him into the kitchen and blushed as the memories of the night before flooded her mind. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Fine.’ Sam replied shortly.
‘You’re distant. That’s not fine.’ Sam looked at her, with what she thought was sorrow before they hardened.
‘Were you expecting a hug and a kiss with “good morning, baby”?’ She wasn’t expecting that, but she wouldn’t have complained if she was greeted like that.
‘No, but I just thought after last night you’d—’
‘Last night was fun but, Dakota, it was just sex.’ Just sex. It hadn’t seemed like that to her. ‘It’s always just sex. I’m sorry if you weren’t prepared for that, but I am engaged and you’re a great distraction.’ Distraction. Those words cut so deeply that they would leave a scar. She hated that this was how Sam thought of her. After everything, the secret dates, the almost times, the real, and what she thought authentic, times, all of it was just a distraction to him. She felt tears start to form but she quickly pushed them away when she heard Mason and Mickey’s voices asking if pancakes could be for breakfast. She smiled her greatest fake smile at Sam.
‘I have pancakes to make and I’m afraid you may be late for work if you don’t get ready, Mr Dalton.’ Her words stung him. He had to say what he did but he didn’t realise that hearing so few words from someone could hurt him so badly. He also did not realise that the most common thing he was called, could sound so vile. He wanted to say sorry, but he couldn’t. He just had to bear seeing the pain in Dakota’s eyes for a while. It would wreck him, but he had to. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
@rockme-fabulous @interobanginyourmom @flyawayboo @secretsaladbouquet
@hypnosnes @rexgwapolagi @choices-addict @pralexa01 @choicesreal@chrissythadon @decadentwinnerjudgedream @maxattack-powell @txemrn @catlady0911 @indiacater @laiba-the-person @violetbumblebee79
@fallendarkangel693 @creatingjana @choicessa
I based these off of people that liked/reblogged/commented on two posts I had, if you want to be added or taken off, let me know. Couldn’t tag someone.
Note: Several weeks ago, @krishu213 asked for a Jaime x Arden fic for day 27 of the @julychoiceschallenge (”sunflowers”). I love this request for several reasons:
It’s Jaime Lewis, and writing about him is always a delight.
I was a long-time resident of the Sunflower State, so it brings up happy memories of my midwestern roots.
Since In Stasis, I’ve had a headcanon about sunflowers and what they mean to Jaime. Having an excuse to explore it in more depth was a real treat. : )
Anyway, enough rambling! Suffice it to say that writing these experimental little drabbles put a smile on my face. I hope they bring you joy as well!
April
A thin layer of ice clung to the toe of Arden's shoe, though it turned to droplets by the time she arrived back at their front door. Skimming her soles across the rough fibers of the doormat, she stifled a shiver. As she reached for the handle, she cast a woeful eye over the patch of mulch outlined by popsicle-stick stakes. Thick as the wooden chips were, they weren't enough to warm the soil below.
Checking it had become a part of her daily routine, almost without fail. Jaime still didn't know why; but for her, it was difficult to think of the spot without a smile cracking her lips. He'd obliged her whim, leaving the area blank as he drew up plans for the rest of their landscaping. Someday -- hopefully sooner rather than later -- he would understand her motives.
If only spring could feel her sense of urgency.
May
Opie's wet nose shocked the bare skin of Arden's forearm, and she fought to keep her grip on the packet of seeds as he traveled down to her wrist. Brushing him back with a giggle, she shifted her feet a few inches to the left. As Jaime whistled to attract the dog's attention, she slid the ruler further down the narrow trench, stopping to press in a seed every six inches.
Though she knew nature would soon take its course, she didn't want her efforts to be sporadic. Their front garden had become Jaime's pride and joy, and she'd be devastated if her surprise detracted from it in any way. She’d measured this first row carefully, making certain to leave space behind for subsequent rows in the coming weeks.
Reaching the end of the trench, she began covering what she’d already planted. Jaime watched from the other side of the lawn, an inquisitive slant to his brow. She raised a hand for a campy wave, matching his grin as fine particles of dirt fell back to the rich, dark earth.
June
Arden could still remember the first time she'd heard Paula complain of having a black thumb. She'd hopped up to her toes and gazed over the fence, expecting to see a cursed pirate spot marking the woman's hand. Instead, the hand gripping the watering can appeared completely ordinary. Somewhat disappointed, Arden had slumped back against her side of the pickets to retrieve the book she'd been reading.
Some eighteen years later, she was grateful to note that she didn't share the other woman’s affliction. Last month's sprouts had grown strong and steady, thickening to leafy stalks that seemed eager to take on the growing summer heat. Though still unrecognizable, she knew Jaime had guessed their genus nearly a week before. He'd remained quiet on the matter, but she’d noticed the particular attention he’d been giving the short, gangly rows. Though each of his plants was well cared for, not all of them reminded him of his adopted mother.
As she watched him tend them through the window, Arden wondered if any of his construction-paper facsimiles might be in the attic with Paula’s other mementos. He’d spent that first summer making endless recreations of his new mother’s favorite blooms, brightening her kitchen in a way that real flowers never could.
July
Curing a finger around the thick stem, Arden gently tugged the bloom toward her nose. The flowers, still developing, had become unmistakable as the month progressed. Though the curved yellow petals held no scent, she smiled at the sensation of them tickling her nostrils.
From several yards away, Jaime began counting down from three. She froze into place, still pretending to sniff the bloom as he captured the picture with his phone. Although she'd been photographing the plants regularly, this was the first image since they had started to dwarf her.
She beckoned him toward her for a second pose, releasing the stalk to wrap an arm around his waist. Rising up to kiss his cheek, she collapsed into laughter when her lips could only reach his jaw. Noting her predicament with a grin, he bent a few inches lower before attempting the next shot.
August
Many of their first blooms had been laid to rest at Northbridge Memorial Park, the most stunning assortment having been reserved for two late-summer bouquets. The next row had been taken to the retirement community a few miles from their house. The third and fourth rows still stood before the house, towering over the porch rail like a wall of sunshine.
They’d deliver another set of homemade arrangements before the summer ended, replacing the faded blooms with ones that could still bring light to the quiet spaces.
Many weeks before, Arden had researched the meaning of sunflowers over a lunch break. Among other sentiments, they stood for warmth, adoration, and affection. She didn’t know if Paula had been conscious of the symbol, though the descriptions fit her life well. Its other attributes -- loyalty, positivity, and gratitude -- still shone through clearly in her son.
September
Arden formed her palm into a cup, using the fingers of her other hand to search for bits of flower that had mixed in. Dumping the plump seeds into a jar, she allowed the debris to scatter to the mulch below. She watched for a moment as the specks drifted under the golden light from above.
They hadn't planned it, but their evening of sorting had fallen on the first sunset of autumn. Jaime sat across the porch, singing below his breath as he picked through the seeds. A year and a half into marriage, she was beginning to develop an appreciation for that country music station he favored. The genre had never been her style, but her husband's renditions did hold a certain appeal.
He met her look, his lips still forming words that were almost silent. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she realized the tune was directed toward her. Still feeling the weight of his gaze, she separated the next handful of seeds between their three containers. Some went into the bucket for roasting, others into the one for birdseed, and the rest clattered into the plastic jar labelled next spring’s planting.
Note: This story is inspired by both @krishu213’s request for Day 17 of the July Choices Challenge (Moon) and @noesapphic’s suggestion several weeks ago that the “jealousy” scene from Desire and Decorum 3 be rewritten. It’s a really interesting moment for Luke, and I’m sorry that PB chose to attribute his response to jealousy rather than something that might have been a better fit for his character. I’ve used some of the original dialogue, but I’ve tried to piece it together with a more believable scene. I hope the end result is something a little more satisfying.
Helena cast a final look back at the palace, wishing that her first impression of the place had been a better one. Layers of silk rustled in the evening breeze as she gathered her skirts. Taking Luke’s outstretched hand, she climbed into the carriage. He followed close behind.
They may finally be out of the view of prying eyes, but she felt a little uncertain about what was waiting for them once the door shut. Her fiancé’s behavior had been unpredictable this evening.
Since the death of her father, Luke had been the most constant thing in her life. Even when they were separated, she trusted him and knew his heart. She’d come to know him almost as well as she knew herself. But tonight, she’d seen a man she did not recognize.
“You hardly seemed yourself back there,” she mused quietly, subconsciously brushing a finger against his thigh. He was close enough for her to feel his body heat, and he hovered even nearer as he pondered the question.
“Forgive me. I felt...out of place,” he admitted, opening his palm to receive the hand she moved to his knee. “It was the first time since you agreed to marry me, since being knighted...that I felt all I have gained was threatened. I am so much more powerful than I have ever been, but seeing the way the Prince Regent spoke to you, I felt like a servant again.”
Brow furrowing, Helena searched his face. The interior of the carriage was too dark to make out anything but the shine of his deep emerald eyes. “Luke...” she whispered, reaching to draw one curtain aside. Moonlight spilled into the carriage, illuminating his distant expression. “I would love you the same if you were a beggar, for it is your heart and mind that I love, not your title.”
"I have never doubted it, and I am grateful.” Lifting their entwined fingers, he brought them to his chest for the briefest of moments.
“But you are not out of place. You belong as much as anyone. You’re the noblest among them, even if they do not see it yet.” Her eyes wandered through the window, seeking the stars that they both loved so well. As her gaze carried across the night sky, it was another sight that caught her attention.
“How often do you see the moon, Luke?”
“Every night,” he answered after a pause.
“And does it always look the same?”
“Nay, it changes. Sometimes it is bright and full. At others, it lends only a little light.”
“Is it not always the same moon, no matter what we see? No matter how we perceive it?” she pressed, studying the luminous orb as she continued her line of questioning.
“Aye, it is.”
“Do you not think that you are something like the moon?”
He humored her with a half smile, though the incline of his brows betrayed his lack of understanding.
Helena considered the lines of his face, defined as they were by the silver light. His life had held no shortage of hardships, and she hated the thought that their new positions might lead to more.
Ignoring the pang in her chest, she offered her explanation. “People look at you and see many different things. If they choose not to see your true value, that is their choice -- and it is to their detriment. It does not change who you are. It certainly does not change how I feel for you.”
“Thank you. I love you with everything that I am, my sweet Helena.”
“Just as I love you, Luke.”
“And perhaps there are some similarities,” he mused, raising a hand to cup the slope of her cheek. “After all, I must have the light of the sun.” From his smile, she knew he was speaking of something much closer than the heavenly body.
“We must have each other,” she prompted, cheek tickling with the breath of his responding laughter.
When he kissed her in the quiet of the night, she did not think of the evening’s disappointments, nor did she feel the weight of his doubts. For she knew that above the hood of the carriage, there spanned a canopy of stars and the full light of the moon.
Note: No murderers or psychopaths here -- just some goofy fun with my favorite mind reader. It’s also woefully unpolished, so please forgive any mistakes that may appear. Real life has conspired against my writing efforts lately.
This piece was written for day 16 of the July Choices Challenge (Journey). Thanks to @julychoiceschallenge for the prompt and @krishu213 for the request! : )
That woman looks kinda familiar. Is she on something I watched on TV lately?
Drawing a staccato breath, Arden raised a hand to her cheek to make sure the wig was still secured. The long wavy locks tickled her ear with the movement, but they remained in place. While her hand was raised, she pushed the horn rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose, pausing at the tip as her finger slid down.
They'd left the house less than an hour ago. Had they already been discovered? Surely not yet. How pathetic.
She cast her eye in the direction of the voice, careful to train her focus on the shifting advertisements on the screen behind. The man she’d overheard was turned the opposite way, his own interest given fully to a blond woman making her way toward the stairs.
Phew.
"Here," Jaime interrupted, passing the slick rectangle of paper into her palm.
"Thank you," Arden answered after a beat, hoping that the Southern drawl sounded more natural to other ears than it did to her own.
He raised a brow. Sure you wanna keep this up?
Arden's chin jutted forward a fraction of an inch as she skimmed information on the ticket once more. The journey was only fourteen hours long. Most of that time, they'd be sleeping. Once Cassidy picked them up from the station in the morning, they'd be back to their normal selves.
You're right. Stupid question, Jaime amended as he shuffled closer.
She caught the sleeve of his jacket with a small smile. “I may not get any sleep. I have a mind to stay up and look out the window all night.”
Jaime chuckled as he slipped his fingers between hers. “We’ll see. Once we start moving, you may be lulled to sleep.”
“Maybe,” she wavered skeptically, glancing back down at the ticket in her other hand. Compared to the joy of traveling, sleep just didn’t seem very important.
As was the case with so many of their schemes over the years, this whole situation had begun with such an innocent start. Jaime had been the one to suggest that they turn the trip for Chris and Meta's wedding into a weekend excursion. She'd latched onto the idea, especially after realizing how easy it would be to make the journey by train.
From there, the plan had just sort of run away with her. The thought of reminiscing with her college friends had made her realize how much she’d changed in the years since she’d dropped out of school. Thinking about those changes led her to wonder what it would be like to assume another identity for a few hours.
Her persona had to be something fun -- something that would make her completely unrecognizable. Posing as an odor tester from Georgia was the perfect challenge to keep the trip interesting. She’d be able to shed the disguise well before the wedding festivities began, and none of the other passengers would ever be the wiser about having sat across the car from one of Northbridge’s rising celebrities.
Sucking a small breath as she handed off her ticket and ID, she let it out again slowly when she was given approval without incident. It was a good thing her license picture was from so many years ago. Age and a haircut had done a lot to change her features in the meantime, leaving her with a portrait that looked as unlike her normal appearance as it did today’s variation.
Smothering a giggle in her coat collar, Arden stepped up into the car and peered down its length. She shuffled forward in the narrow aisle, swinging her tote back in a gentle arc toward her stomach. It had been months since she’d been in a crowd of this size without feeling positive that someone would recognize her sooner or later. While she didn’t begrudge the loss of her anonymity, there was something novel about being an unknown entity again.
A gasp broke through her thoughts, followed by a quiet curse that no one else heard. Impulse turned her head toward the middle-aged traveler behind her.
It’s all down my shirt! I can’t believe I did that. I can’t show up at Pat’s tomorrow with tea stains!
"Oh, bless your heart,” Arden cried softly, meeting the man’s light blue eyes. “Do you reckon we can find some towels over yonder?”
Jaime had already released her fingers and was making his way toward the nearest lavatory. His thoughts carried over his shoulder as he traveled. Good grief, Arden. You can pull off an accent and a wig, but you can't pass as eighty.
She channeled her laughter into a sympathetic smile that was just a bit too high up on one side. Surveying the situation before her, she commented, “Oh, those lids ain’t worth a lick, are they? They’re just no good at all. Always leaking and making a mess.”
The tea-stained passenger regarded her curiously before repeating his attempt to snap the lid back into place. “I’d have to agree,” he said finally, motioning to his saturated polo.
“Here,” Jaime passed a small pile of paper towels over her shoulder. The man accepted them with a grateful nod and began dabbing at the affected fabric.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, sir!” Arden called as she followed her husband further down the car.
“So much for keeping your head down,” Jaime mumbled, more to himself than to her as they settled into their seats.
“What’s the point of doing this if I can’t interact with people? I want to see what the world is like through another perspective.” Straightening in her seat before her impassioned whisper could draw too much attention, she glanced up to smile at those who were still boarding.
“You’re going to be doing this all night, aren’t you?”
She tittered at his fond accusation and reached into the tote for her book. “Tomorrow too.”
_____
“Hi, I’m Elizabeth.”
Though she’d practiced giving her middle name, the syllables still seemed to clutter her tongue. Compared to what she was used to, it was much too long and unwieldy to feel natural.
“Gina.” The young woman across the table smiled eagerly, though Arden could sense the tinge of discomfort as they slid into the opposite side of the booth.
“Nice to meet you, Gina. I’m Jaime. Sure you don’t mind us joining you for dinner?”
Her head started bobbing from side to side. “No! Not at all.”
“Thanks.” Arden tilted the menu up to read the contents. “Is this your first time taking the train?”
Gina leaned forward to answer. “No, I use it to go home for most college breaks. It’s a little old fashioned, but I love it,” she admitted with a faint blush. “This is my first time going home since the start of the semester.” I hope my parents are getting along this time.
Arden had to bite her cheek to avoid reacting to the stray thought. Brightening, she lowered her menu to look Gina full in the face. “Any tips for first-time travelers?”
They fell into easy conversation, trading thoughts on every topic from Gina’s school to Jaime’s latest projects around the city. Eventually, talk drifted to Arden’s assumed profession. Her delight at getting to show off her research mingled with the risk of making a misstep.
“What’s your favorite smell?” Gina questioned with unfeigned interest.
“Hmm,” Arden pondered, settling the fork back onto her pile of rice pilaf. “My favorite category is woody scents.”
Jaime nudged her with a discreet elbow as she elaborated. Is this Arden speaking or Elizabeth?
She warmed at the question, grateful she was sitting close enough to make out the traces of cedar and pine embedded in the denim of his jacket. But as appealing as her husband was, she wanted to know more about the young woman sitting across from them.
“What did you say you were studying?”
“Molecular biology!” The woman’s thoughts started bouncing off one another like heating atoms.
Arden couldn’t help wondering how long it had been since the last time someone had asked about it with genuine interest. She took another bite of her roasted chicken to show that Gina was free to continue talking.
“I just submitted a proposal for my capstone. It’s about the...” she chattered excitedly, using words that threw Arden back to long afternoons of sitting through Chemistry 101. Even so, she was grateful when Jaime’s insightful series of questions kept Gina talking through the end of their meal.
“I’ve got a ton of reading to get through this weekend,” she explained after their dishes had been cleared away, ”but it’s been so fun talking. See you for breakfast in the morning?”
“Definitely,” Arden confirmed before the other woman returned to her seat.
“You make friends everywhere, don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes at Jaime’s undertone and gathered her tote bag. “Like you have room to talk. You’re friends with everybody.”
“Almost everybody,” he corrected. I’m pretty sure I still owe Alec Burdock a talking to.
Try as she might, Arden couldn’t contain her laughter as she followed him out of the dining car.
_____
Toothbrush in one hand, Arden used the other to raise a grateful wave toward the train attendant. “Thank you! Goodnight.”
Snapping the sliding door shut behind her, she turned into the roomette to face Jaime. Already changed into his pajamas, he held out a hand to welcome her into the bed.
“Are you Arden again?”
With a nod, she reached up to peel the wig away from her forehead. The fake hair hadn’t been uncomfortable, but it was still an incredible relief to strip away the excess layer and feel the cool air at her hairline.
“Let me help,” Jaime offered as the back caught on the hair at her neck. His steady hands made short work of the tangle, and he passed her the full wig within moments.
“Thanks.” She smoothed out the strands before placing it carefully on an overhead shelf. Lowering back to the mattress, she reached behind her to unzip the top of her dress. His fingers were there to replace her own within moments. “You’re very accommodating,” she praised while pulling the garment over her head.
“Of course.”
“And you were right about me sleeping,” she disclosed, tugging her pajama shorts up around her hips. “I’m exhausted.”
Jaime simply nodded and welcomed her down onto the makeshift mattress after she turned out the light. She curled close, breathing a tranquil sigh when his arm encircled her waist.
“Arden,” he breathed into her temple, hardly audible above the ambient sounds of the rails beneath them. "I'm glad you're you."
“Me too,” she whispered, her knuckles idly trailing the dusty line of stubble at his jaw. Snuggling into his side, she reflected on the day’s events.
Tonight had been fun, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to the morning as well. Yet, the charms of her own life outweighed those of any other. She’d never trade it for anything.
