Without being aware of any transition he was awake. Completely. An automatic glance at the bedside clock showed midnight. Ha! The witching hour! But his witch was gone, off on honeymoon with her brand-new husband. The witch who had charmed him for twenty-three years, ever since he held the squalling red-faced bundle of her just after she was born.
A faint noise. Was that what had woken him? Better check. He swung his legs out of bed and reached for his robe, an automatic modesty response, because he slept naked and had shared the apartment only with his daughter these past five years, ever since his beloved Jenny, Carly's mother, had been killed. Cautiously, he opened the bedroom door, listening. Yes, a faint clink from the direction of the kitchen. Silent on bare feet, he moved towards the closed kitchen door, a bar of light showing at its foot. Taking a deep breath, he was about to throw the door open when he stopped dead, remembering his house-guest. His normal politeness reasserted itself, and he tapped on the door and opened it.
"Oh! You startled me, Jack."
"Sorry, Helen. I heard a noise and wondered what it was."
"Oh, dear. Jack, I
am
sorry. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd make some tea. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not. While you're here, treat the place like home."
"Thank you. Want some?"
"Please. Black, no sugar." While she poured, he studied her covertly, liking what he saw. Helen Daniels, the mother of his new son-in-law. His own age, she was trim, slim, attractive. Dressed now in a simple white nightdress, modestly cut, calf-length, opaque, but as she moved the fine cotton gave him hints of the treasures beneath. She passed him a cup and gestured to the chairs at the kitchen table.
"Do you mind sitting and chatting for a while, Jack? I still feel wide-awake."
"Of course not. Chat? What about?"
"Anything. Everything. The real Jack Rogers, maybe?"
"Real? I'm real enough, Helen. With me, what you see is what you get."
She made a face. "That's rare enough to be interesting." She glanced across at him. "I never did thank you properly."
He shook his head. "Not a problem, Helen. The spare room was available, so it might as well be used."
She laughed. "Only because Tim and Carly slept together."
Jack smiled. "I knew they were lovers, Carly doesn't keep secrets from me." He gave Helen a wry grin. "As far as I know."
Helen nodded. "I think you're right, Jack. Carly strikes me as transparently honest. I loved her from the first time Tim brought her to stay. They were lovers then, too."
"From college. Carly told me."
"She must trust you, Jack."
"I hope she does. I don't think I've ever lied to her. I've probably hurt her sometimes by being honest, but she's got a wise head on her shoulders, my daughter. She takes after her mother." He was miles and years away for a moment, thinking of the drunken driver who had killed Jenny and changed his life forever.
"You still miss her, don't you?" Helen's voice was gentle.
His half-smile was faint. "Every time I look at Carly."
"She showed me the photo of the two of them. More like sisters, twin sisters almost, than mother and daughter."
"That's the one that hurts most, I think. It takes a long time to get over, but I think I'm getting there. Hey, this is getting morbid. Time for a change of subject." He raised his tea-cup. "A toast, to the newly-weds. To Tim and Carly."
"Tim and Carly," she echoed, touching her cup to his.
There was a comfortable pause, as they reflected on the previous day's wedding. Jack glanced across at Helen. "What about the real Helen Daniels? Tell me about her."
Helen gave him a wry look. "Four years divorced, perpetually horny and never been laid in two years." She stopped dead, a look of horror on her face, flushing scarlet. "Jack," she gasped, "I'm sorry, that isn't what I meant to say! Believe me, please?" She groaned. "I cannot believe I just said that! God, what must you think of me?"
He almost laughed. "That you're an honest woman, perhaps? No, I don't think you did mean to say that out loud, Helen. Is it true?"
"Oh, yes, it's true. Unfortunately for me."
"Nearly five for me," he said, eyes unfocused as he remembered Jenny.
Helen reached across and took his hand in hers, squeezing gently. He looked at her, bringing himself back to the now. "Sorry, Helen."
"No need to apologize, Jack. No need at all."
"He gave her a wry smile. "I never knew what Jenny saw in me, but I tried very hard to be the man she thought I was."
"Don't kid yourself, Jack, you're a very attractive man. And yes, I'm attracted to you too."
He smiled. "The feeling's mutual, Helen." She squeezed his hand again, looking away for a moment, then looked at him, biting her lip, making to speak, but hesitating. "What?" he said.
"Can I be frank?"
"Always."
She looked away again for a moment, then back at him. A direct look, open and honest. She took a deep breath, and when she spoke the words almost tumbled out. "Will you take me to bed, Jack? Please? We're lonely people, you and I, so let's try to give each other something, something good." There was a mute plea in her eyes.
He stared at her for a long, long moment, but there was no denying the quick agreement that had almost sprung to his lips. She flushed, looking away, and he realized she thought he was going to refuse. He squeezed the hand holding his. "Helen? Are you sure that's what you want?"
She turned back to him, her eyes on his. She nodded. "Yes," she said, her voice almost a whisper.
It was his turn for the deep breath. "Helen, I would be honored."
She was still holding his hand and she stood, tugging him to his feet. "Leave the cups. Let's go now, before I lose my nerve."
In his bedroom, he switched on a shaded bedside lamp, filling the area beside the bed with a honeyed glow that barely reached the corners of the room. He turned to Helen, letting her hand slip from his and raising his hands to her shoulders, drawing her to him, her head tilting and her lips lifting as he drew her close.
The kiss was gentle at first, but there was a heat in each of them and their mouths began to move on each other, tasting, savoring, lips parting, tongues moving, until Helen broke away from him, flushed, shuddering. She bent, taking the hem of her nightdress in her hands, straightening, lifting it off smoothly over her head, her breasts catching for a moment then dropping free as she cast the nightdress aside. She gazed at him, her eyes hot, smoky.
"You now," she whispered, and he quickly loosened the waist tie on his robe, dropping it back off his shoulders, relishing the air on his erection, hard, ready for her. Her eyes dropped, and a smile crooked her mouth as her hand took a gentle grasp of him, squeezing, caressing. Her eyes came back to his. "I like it."
"Good, since it's going to be inside you soon."
"Mmm, yes. Yes, please!" She moved back into his arms, pressing against him, her nipples hard against his chest, raising her lips again for his kiss. She tasted of wine and toothpaste. He broke the kiss and bent, lifting her, hearing her startled squeak as he laid her on his bed, moving quickly to join her, kissing her again as her arms reached out for him. He slid his left arm under her neck and gathered her to him. The kiss was hotter, and without breaking it she took his hand from her hip and lifted it to her breast. He cupped the soft weight, rubbing his thumb over the hard nub of her nipple.
Gently, she broke the kiss, her eyes all over his face. He smiled and kissed her nose, then let his lips trail over her cheek, down her neck, kissing her throat, moving down until he could take her nipple between his lips, sucking it, licking it, letting her feel his teeth. She shuddered, and he could feel the tremble deep within her. He let his hand move down, over her belly, gently rounded, but he could feel the muscle; down further, across the curly tangle at her fork, letting his finger slip down through the warmth and wetness, sliding it into her, a smile twitching his mouth as he felt her squeeze down on his finger, another soft moan coming from her.
