His Other Life

Chapter 35

THIRTY-FIVE

GEMMA

December, two years ago

There were flurries in the air on December 15 when Gemma drove home from the mall. She’d long since finished shopping for Cheryl, Sadie and her kid, and her coworkers, but Jonah was coming for the weekend, so today’s shopping spree had been all about him.

His long stay in the fall had sustained them for a while. Not that Gemma had enjoyed the separation for even one day, but she’d at least felt secure in his affection despite the distance between them in a way she hadn’t before. That feeling had been solidified by near-daily phone conversations since his wife had gone back to working from her office at the university a month ago. On the days Gemma wasn’t working, they could be on the phone for two hours straight, and even when she was in the office, she’d call him on her breaks, or they’d text. She wasn’t oblivious to the dynamics of this shift in time allotment. More time for her meant less time for his wife. He had a finite number of hours at his disposal after all. Late at night, on more than one occasion, it had stirred up something that she tried very hard not to look too closely at. A general inkling of violating that old sisters-before-misters clause perhaps.

Granted, for the past couple of weeks, their talks had been somewhat shorter, which eased her conscience a little. Jonah had explained that he was always swamped in December in order to meet his “sales quota” or something like that, and since he was driving to Portland on Thursday, he had things to get done. Gemma had done her best not to take it personally, to not be too needy. His work was important to him, and maybe it was good that they got to miss each other a little more for a few days before reuniting.

Shopping for him had helped boost her mood. She’d found him a book by a photographer she knew he admired, a knitted sweater she could picture him wearing while they were snuggled up together watching a movie, and a unique leather-strap bracelet with the word “serendipity” spelled out in metal-stud Morse code. Because how else could she better describe their meeting? What had been the chances of him walking into her office of all the ones available in the area?

She’d also bought herself some nice underwear that could reasonably count as another gift for him, and with that mental picture in her mind, she navigated the snow-dusted street home.

Cheryl didn’t comment when Gemma brought out wrapping paper and ribbon to wrap the gifts. She had long since given up her fretting, or, as Gemma liked to interpret it, realized her niece was happy and that Jonah was none of her business. This time, when Gemma had told her she’d not be home the coming weekend, Cheryl had merely shaken her head with a muttered, “Your life.”

And it was Gemma’s life. No one was steering it forward but her. She picked the road. The year was drawing to a close, and considering it had started with heartbreak and quarantine, she thought she’d done pretty well for herself. She was still working, her aunt was in a better place mentally and physically, she’d all but forgotten about Yuri, and she had a wonderful man in her life. Yes, okay—maybe her actions weren’t completely innocent, but she trusted Jonah to know what he was doing. And if this continued, next year had the potential to become her best year yet.

The thought made her stomach bounce and loop like the pretty ribbon in her hand, and who would willingly give up a feeling like that?

Jonah ended up getting in late Thursday, which meant Gemma had to mentally adjust to having him to herself for only three nights instead of four. A disappointment, but he’d had a meeting change, and if not for his wife having plans with friends in Seattle for the weekend, he might not have been able to stay even that long. Everything was still good, she told herself, driving to his hotel after work on Friday. That night, they’d make up for lost time, and tomorrow she’d made reservations for them at a nice restaurant as a precursor to exchanging gifts in what she’d coined their “mini-Christmas.”

She smiled at the decorated shop windows she passed. The frostbitten trees sparkled in the cool setting sun, and soon she’d be in his arms again. Yes, everything was still better than good.

She stepped harder on the gas pedal to avoid getting stuck at a red light.

He was waiting for her when she got off the elevator and rounded the corner on the third floor. His mussed head stuck out a doorway three rooms down, and as soon as she saw him, she had to resist breaking into a sprint.

Jonah’s expression wavered for a split second, but then the creases by his eyes deepened, and his cheeks bunched into that cheeky expression she loved so much. Just seeing him made her blush like she was some kind of innocent Victorian maiden.

“Hi.” He held the door open for her as she reached him.

She slipped by him and turned to watch him close the door. Then she flung herself around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. “Hi.”

His hands splayed low on her back as he buried his nose in her hair. She smiled against him then tipped her head back so she could see him.

“I missed you so much,” she said, rising on her toes for a kiss.

He didn’t immediately take advantage, but when she let her thumb trace his jaw, and her other hand slide into the hair at his nape, something flickered on behind his eyes, and he dove for her lips.

Gemma’s favorite ride when she’d worked at the amusement park had been the pirate ship, where, at the top of each swing, gravity ceased to matter. Kissing Jonah did the same thing to her—it suspended her somewhere in the air above herself where she was free to look down, but earthly rules no longer applied. She was flying, unencumbered and light, connected to her physical self only through his hands, his chest, his mouth.

He spun her up against the closet door with a needy gasp, but once she was there, the coolness of the mirror bringing goosebumps to her back, he paused.

Their breaths came in short, synchronized bursts as he loosened his tight grip on her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.

“Let’s maybe slow things down a little,” he said, voice husky. “I haven’t seen you for so long.”

Because he was still touching her, Gemma didn’t take it as a snub. If anything, the fact that he wanted more than a quick fuck spoke to how serious he was about her.

“I keep thinking it’ll be easier, but then you’re here and you’re so…” His teeth dug into his bottom lip.

Gemma fought a frown, her hands steady, grasping his sides. “That what will be easier?”

He looked away. “To resist? I don’t know.”

Even as the word hooked a barb through Gemma’s heart, she cordoned it off, refusing to give it meaning, and laughed instead. He was here, wasn’t he? “So you think I’m irresistible?”

“Hmm.” He tugged her closer again. “Very much so.” His hands slid down to her hips and pressed them to him.

She let out a low groan. “Not a great move if you want to slow down.”

He caught hold of one of her hands and pulled it up above her head, then the other. “Maybe I don’t know what I want.” He captured her lips again.

“Well I do,” she murmured, tugging her hands free so she could push him backward toward the bed.

He didn’t put up a fight.

The second day he had a client lunch even though it was a Saturday, which Gemma hadn’t expected. Of course, she understood—his work was what brought him down here in the first place—but she did wish he’d mentioned it beforehand.

“It must have slipped my mind,” he said when he saw her to her car before heading out. “I’m sorry. Things have been so hectic lately.”

Since they decided to meet up again at a coffee shop downtown as soon as he was done, Gemma tried to see it as more time to get ready for their evening. She’d planned on swinging by the apartment to change and pick up his Christmas presents anyway—now she might even have time for a mani-pedi and a blow-out. She didn’t indulge like that often, but once in a while, it was worth it.

Judging by Jonah’s reaction when he picked her up later, this was absolutely one of those times.

“Your hair,” he said, eyes wide with appreciation as he moved his camera bag off the passenger seat. “It looks amazing.”

She flicked it a little extra for his benefit as she got in and buckled, glad she’d left a good tip for the stylist. “Thanks. How was your lunch?”

“Oh, you know…” He handed her the bag, put the car in drive, and pulled away from the curb.

“I don’t. Tell me about it.”

He glanced at her. “You want to know about my boring work meeting?”

“I want to know everything.” Gemma cringed. Overeager much?

“Everything, huh?” There was amusement in his voice as he leaned forward to survey the intersection before turning left. “It’s not interesting. This one was just a catch-up with one of our main clients here. We chit-chat about the holidays, talk about his practice, any new needs he might have coming up—that sort of thing. Kind of a drag.”

His blasé attitude didn’t sit right with Gemma. This was a meeting that had been more important to Jonah than spending the day with her, but he made it sound like something that could have taken place over the phone.

“Maybe you should have cancelled it,” she said before she could stop herself, keeping her focus on the street outside. The snow had melted, leaving streams of water rushing along the curb. Her hands worried the clasp of the camera bag while she waited for his response.

“I wish,” he said, coming to a stop. “But while I’m here, I might as well, right?”

Gemma ran a finger across her newly done nails while she tried to agree with him. What did she know about sales? Maybe he really didn’t have a choice.

They drove in silence for another few blocks, but then Jonah reached over the console and put his hand on her knee. “I’m starving. Thanks for making reservations.”

As always, his smile overshadowed any uncertainty in Gemma’s head. She was sad that they didn’t have more time together, but that wasn’t his fault. Those were the circumstances under which they’d met. And deep down she was grateful to have even a small slice of him. Did she want more? Yes. But she’d never been an all-or-nothing sort of person.

The twinkle in his eye when he turned her way at the next light helped her shrug off her ire. That expression just for her—she wanted it preserved. Her hands retrieved his camera without thinking.

“Did you find anything to shoot today?” she asked as she found the right grip and put her eye to the viewfinder.

“What are you doing?” Jonah’s voice was lighter now.

“Just looking.” She aimed it at him.

“Come on…” He cocked his head and glanced her way. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I’m the one behind the camera, remember.”

She leaned back when he tried to reach for it, a happy fizz bubbling up inside her. This playfulness was exactly what they needed. “No, no. You’re driving. Focus please.”

As they approached a big intersection, he had no choice but to do just that, and she took her chance. Aim, focus… “Jonah,” she called in a singsong voice.

“Yes, Gem.”

She snapped the image and looked at the screen. It was perfect—a composition of blurry traffic out the window behind him, the streetlights illuminating his features, and that cheeky raised right brow adding indulgence to the flash of a smile he’d thrown her way at the exact right moment. “You’ll have to send me a copy of this. It needs to be framed,” she said.

He laughed—her favorite sound—then managed a grip on the lens. “Come on,” he said again. “Put it away. We’re almost there.”

And this time she did as he asked.

As lovely as the meal was, Gemma couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel so they could exchange gifts. Jonah wasn’t in as much of a hurry and ordered a dessert cocktail after they’d finished the bottle of Malbec he’d ordered. She wasn’t used to seeing him tipsy, but then again, they were celebrating early Christmas. At least she’d stopped at two glasses of wine since it seemed she’d have to drive them home.

“You’re so sweet,” Jonah said, slightly slurring his Ss when they reached the car. “So, so sweet. And I like you so much. Maybe even more than… than you like me.”

“Is that so?” She opened the door for him and waited until he’d buckled. He might be under the influence, but she didn’t mind the way he looked at her one bit.

“Mm-hmm.” Jonah rested his head against the seat and swung it toward her, his eyes glossy and adoring. “I do need some coffee though.”

Gemma laughed. “Yeah, you do.”

“Some coffee and a hug.” He took her hand.

“We’ll get you both. But I’m going to need my hand to drive.”

“Right.” He let go and closed his eyes. “Going to rest for a few.”

Gemma went through a drive-thru for two lattes on their way, making Jonah’s a double shot, and by the time they pulled into the hotel parking lot twenty minutes later, he’d already lost the chatty, excitable wooziness and settled into a more temperate state.

“Are you ready for some presents?” Gemma asked on their way upstairs. “And maybe that hug you requested earlier?” She ran her fingers down his arm and gave him her best doe eyes.

“Always.” He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “Let me hit the bathroom first. I’ve gotta piss like a racehorse after all that.”

How romantic , Gemma thought, but then she brushed his comment off. It meant he felt comfortable enough with her to not censor himself. That was a good thing.

While he was indisposed, she lit a couple of candles she’d brought and placed his presents on the small ottoman that served as a table by the couch. She also set her phone to play Christmas music, adjusted her blouse to flatter her cleavage, and reapplied a tiny dab of perfume to her collarbone.

“Whoa.” Jonah stopped short outside the bathroom door to take in the scene.

Gemma beamed at him from the couch. “Merry early Christmas.”

“What is this?” He approached slowly, taking in the stack of presents before him.

“We said we’d exchange presents.”

“Yeah, but… Hold on.” He disappeared into the short hallway and opened the closet. Then he returned with a cellophane-wrapped spa basket in his hands. “I only got you one.”

Gemma forced the smile on her face not to dwindle at the sight of the generic mall-branded products even though they’d punctured the Christmas bubble she’d tried to create. She sucked in her gut to alleviate the sudden hollowness therein.

“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, but they said this was their most popular scent,” Jonah said.

Not everyone was a good gift-giver. Gemma knew that. And yet she’d hoped—expected even—that he’d spend more thought on her than two minutes in and out of a store.

The thought was there before she could stop it: What am I doing here?

When she didn’t immediately respond, Jonah scrunched up his nose. “Do you hate it? I can take it back.”

The concern in his voice made her tuck the doubt back in its dark corner and snap out of it. “No, don’t do that. It’s great.” She pulled the basket closer and undid the plastic. Then she pretended to examine each item with curiosity. “It’s a very nice basket,” she said. “Thank you.”

It worked. Jonah puffed back up and finally sat down next to her.

“Your turn,” Gemma said, setting the basket down on the floor where she didn’t have to look at it.

Jonah rubbed his hands together. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Gemma had always liked watching other people open her gifts, and Jonah was no exception. He was like a kid on Christmas morning, which helped her forget her upset.

“Ah, this is so awesome,” Jonah said, flipping through the photography book. “Did you know that he stayed with the Bedouins for six months while shooting these. Now that’s commitment.” He flipped the book over in his hands. “But this is hard to find. It’s been out of print since he stopped working a few years ago.”

Gemma shrugged. “I have my contacts.” She didn’t—they’d had it at Powell’s.

The bracelet and the sweater were equally well received, and when all the gifts had been opened, Gemma collected the discarded wrapping paper and bundled it into the trash.

“I was thinking we could go ice skating tomorrow,” she said as Jonah splayed the sweater across his lap. “Wear it then.”

“Yeah…” He caressed the knitted fabric with several short strokes before putting it aside. “I’m just gonna…” He got up from the couch and made a beeline for the minifridge, from which he pulled a beer. After opening it, he took a deep swig then set the bottle down on the desk. “I actually, um, I have to go back tomorrow.”

Gemma stopped what she was doing and stared at him. “What? But you were supposed to be here until Monday night.”

“Yeah well, my Monday meeting was cancelled.” His gaze flicked to hers and away again. “Which means I have no excuse to not be home.”

Despite Gemma’s resolution not to be needy, this news made white-hot color rise to her cheeks. “I wish you’d told me that sooner. First you got in late Thursday, now this?” She slumped back down on the couch. “We already have so little time.”

“You know I don’t have much say in that.”

She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. “I know. But…”

“There’s something else too.” Jonah’s words came out rushed. “My territory might be changing in the new year. To Eastern Washington. I’ll know more after the holidays.”

Gemma’s lips parted, but it took a few moments before she could string her words together. “What are you saying? I might not see you anymore?”

“No, that’s not it.” He ran a hand over his head. “I don’t have all the facts yet, and I don’t know what it would mean.” He paced toward the bed and turned. “But it’s also like… I’m married. And this”—he gestured between them—“I mean, we’re great. You’re great. But I’m not going to…”

Gemma felt like someone had punched her. “You’re not going to leave her.”

He flung his arms open. “Not right now at least. You think this is easy for me? Any of it? Things have been better at home lately with her back in the office. I want to have a family at some point. I can’t just…” He made a motion with his hands to indicate something blowing up.

Gemma fought the impulse to cover her ears. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. But despite her best efforts, her eyes welled up. She looked into the dark outside the window and imagined it closing in to envelop her like the comforting blanket she’d used when she was little to block out her parents fighting in the room next to hers.

The couch cushion shifted with Jonah sitting down. “Hey, don’t be upset.” He placed a gentle hand on her forearm. “I’m sorry about this weekend. I didn’t know how to tell you. I feel like I’m disappointing everyone.”

Gemma was still fighting the swelling emotion in her throat and kept her eyes averted. He’ll never be yours , a voice said inside her head. Maybe it was Cheryl’s; maybe it came from some other place.

“Hey,” Jonah said again, nudging her chin with his fingers so she’d look at him. His hazel eyes sought hers in a soft chase for her attention. “I’m here now, right? I’m here, you’re here.”

She pressed her lips together and tried to force at least one side up. He was here. That must count for something. She had to have faith. “We’re here,” she agreed.

“Yeah.” He let the back of his fingers graze her cheek.

Her eyelids lowered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again right before his lips made contact with her temple. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry.” The corner of her mouth.

Gemma caved and twisted into his arms, clinging to him.

He pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him and rose to meet her in a fervent kiss that Gemma was certain said more than his words. He wanted her, that much was clear. She had to accept that there were complicating factors to their being together, but no relationship was perfect. He’d come around. He had to. And why would she ruin the few hours she did get with him over vague future threats that may never come to pass?

She sat back and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and pulled it down over one shoulder so the red strap of her bra became visible.

Jonah’s pupils dilated. “What’s this?” He stroked the satin with his thumb.

“Another present.” Gemma took hold of his hand and brought it to the remaining buttons. “Merry Christmas.”

“I’ll say.” Jonah flipped her onto her back on the couch and nuzzled his way up her neck until he reached her lips. He gave her a soft kiss then retreated. “You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

She wanted to protest, but before she could, he kissed her again, and this time, his roaming hands soon distracted her from any thought not directly connected to his breath on her skin, her rushing blood, the weight of his body, and the exhilarating rush of being adored.