Chapter 4
Jen embraced the warmth of Suzanne’s house as she stepped over the threshold, appreciative of the amazing night she’d had. When she’d walked out of prison, Jen had no idea where her life would go, but this? Sitting in a beautiful woman’s home? No, no way. This hadn’t been anything close to her expectations whatsoever. Honestly, she was waiting for it to crash and burn before this night ended.
“Tea or coffee?”
Jen slid her boots off and turned to Suzanne. “Tea, please.”
She followed her into the kitchen—even more impressed than she had been when she’d arrived this afternoon—and rested against the huge counter along the back wall. Suzanne’s husband had certainly had taste. Though if Jen was being honest, every home looked incredible after the concrete cell she’d spent thirteen months confined to.
“So, do you only deliver for certain companies?” Suzanne glanced over her shoulder as she prepared their drinks.
“It depends on which courier the company chooses to use. Sometimes, it’s the same parcels for the same people; sometimes, it’s a new area altogether.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
Jen didn’t, but she couldn’t tell Suzanne why she was even working as a courier just yet. It would only ruin this night, and Jen really wanted to leave here tonight feeling positive about the future. It wouldn’t last, she would have to be honest eventually, but for now…she really needed this. Everything in her life had felt so hopeless since her release, and this was the first time she had felt remotely good about herself or… anything for that matter. “Yeah, I guess. It’s a job, and that’s the way I choose to look at it.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, you’re an interior designer.”
Suzanne turned with two cups and motioned towards the living room. Jen followed, briefly checking out her arse. “I am. Freelance.”
“Why freelance? Do you prefer the freedom and setting your own hours?” Jen quite fancied something similar in the future. So many people lived to work these days, but Jen… She wanted to grab life. Live it to the fullest. If this went further with Suzanne, she hoped she could be in a similar position one day.
“When John died, I decided to step away from working full time. I love what I do, but it wasn’t the same without him. So, freelance is where I decided to head. It’s…less intense, shall we say?”
“Can I ask what happened to your husband?” Jen didn’t want to push, but if they were going to have at least another date, she didn’t suppose it hurt to ask. “You can tell me to mind my own business, of course.”
Suzanne lowered herself to the couch, offering Jen the seat beside her. “John…liked a drink. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but he didn’t know when to stop at the end of a night out.” Suzanne lowered her eyes. “He’d been on a day out with friends to one of the horse racing meets down the road. I was at my brother’s when he got home. He called me to say he was going to take a shower, have something to eat, and sober himself up before I got home. He knew I didn’t enjoy seeing him drunk.”
Jen nodded slowly. “I see.”
“I came home to find him dead at the bottom of the stairs.”
Jen hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t that. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
“He’d fallen down them and broken his neck,” Suzanne explained, her voice void of any emotion. “I wondered if things would have been different had I been here, but they said he would have died instantly. That’s the only comfort I take from any of it. That he didn’t lie there suffering.”
“Fuck, Suzanne. That’s… I don’t know what to say.”
“You see why I can take or leave alcohol?”
Yeah, Jen could absolutely understand why Suzanne wasn’t fond of the stuff. It just ruined lives. Jen was all too familiar with that. It had ruined her own at one time. God, she hoped she could recover from her mistakes so she could do everything right the second time around. “Yeah.”
“It’s taken me a few years to come to terms with everything, but I am in an entirely different place now. You know, in case you wondered if I still struggled.”
“I think it’s only normal for grief to hit us unexpectedly. I don’t believe there is any timescale for coming to terms with something so dreadful. I’m also not scared of emotions.” Jen sipped her tea and smiled back at Suzanne. “We all handle things differently. I’m almost certain you probably handled your husband’s death far better than I handled my best friend’s.”
“There was a reason I felt a pull towards you, and I have to wonder if it’s because we’ve had similar experiences. I wouldn’t ever flirt with someone on my doorstep, but I found myself doing it without realising. Then I found that I couldn’t stop because, in my mind, you enjoyed it just as much.” Suzanne palmed Jen’s thigh, sincerity in her eyes. “I could be entirely wrong, but I don’t think that I am.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I did enjoy it. You’re gorgeous.” Jen smiled, lowering her hand to Suzanne’s. “And as for the similarities in grief, I feel the same way now that I know about your husband.”
“May I ask what happened to your best friend?”
Jen lowered her eyes and chewed her lip. She hated talking about it. It always caught her unexpectedly when it came to emotion. Jen didn’t need that tonight. Not when she wanted Suzanne to show an interest in her. “Sudden Adult Death Syndrome.”
“Oh, Jen. I’m so sorry.”
Jen could only offer a wry smile. She still found it hard to believe Ruby was gone at times. Just the thought of hearing her voice kept Jen awake at night. But it was also Ruby’s voice that kept Jen going while she was inside. “Best friends since the age of six…and she just died on me without a goodbye.” Jen rubbed at the handle of her cup, determined to keep herself in check. “Went to sleep one night and never woke up again.”
“It’s no surprise you struggled to deal with it. Anyone with a heart would have a hard time understanding something like that.” Suzanne shifted closer and placed a hand on Jen’s shoulder. It only made everything feel worse, though. “Did you have people around for you?”
“To a point, yes.” Jen cleared her throat. “Most of the time, I didn’t want any help. I didn’t want to be around people. But that’s in the past now, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.” Jen didn’t want to talk about the demons she’d faced. If she did, she would end up coming clean right here, right now. She wanted to know Suzanne before she kicked her out of the house, never to see one another again.
“I like your attitude.” Suzanne looked at Jen with such softness that she almost melted into the couch.
“Can I ask what it is you’re looking for?” Jen sat forward and lowered her empty cup to the coffee table. “Dating? A fling?”
“I’m willing to take whatever I can get at this point in my life. I’m fifty and a widow. Some people would say I had my happy ending when I met John, but I believe I should be given the chance to find love again.”
“I love that. I really do.” Jen shifted closer to Suzanne, hoping she wasn’t being too forward here. She lifted a hand and brought it to Suzanne’s cheek. “And I think you’re right. You should be given the chance to find love again.”
“What about you?” Suzanne leaned into Jen’s touch, smiling as her eyes closed. “How do you feel about potentially dating a fifty-year-old widow?”
“Oh, I’m ready. If that’s what’s happening here. If it’s something you’d like to explore. Us…dating.” Jen ached to lean in and kiss Suzanne. She wanted to show her that being fifty meant nothing to her. Jen couldn’t give a fuck about this woman’s age. She just wanted to kiss her. “ Is that what’s happening here, Suzanne?”
Suzanne drew Jen in, their lips on one another’s in an instant. Suzanne moaned when Jen’s tongue ventured into her mouth, and then Jen heard a light gasp when she palmed Suzanne’s bare thigh. Fuck, she had the softest skin. And her moans? Oh, Jen had missed that very sound from a woman. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how long she’d last when she did eventually get Suzanne naked.
When they pulled apart, Jen’s hand beneath Suzanne’s dress, she stared deep into Jen’s eyes. “Yes. That’s precisely what’s happening here.”
“Then I’m ready if you are.” Jen knew there would likely be days when Suzanne reminisced about the past, about her marriage, but equally, Jen would have days when Ruby’s death hit her harder than others. Then there came the matter of her decision to not open up about prison. Because as she sat there and looked back at this woman, a woman who had made Jen feel grateful for life right now, she couldn’t do it. Her mum was right. Thirteen months inside didn’t define who Jen was. She wasn’t a rapist or a murderer or an abuser. She hadn’t hurt anyone other than herself. Suzanne didn’t need to know.
Suzanne narrowed her eyes slightly. “I lost you for a moment then.”
“Just in my own head,” Jen said as she cast her gaze on the tiny space between them. But all she saw was Suzanne’s thighs. Fuck! “Can’t believe I’m here, to be honest.”
“Is there a reason why you don’t believe you should be here?”
“N-no. Just not usually that lucky.” Jen lifted a shoulder as she inched towards Suzanne again, her hand slipping higher. “An evening out with a gorgeous woman? Nah, those things don’t usually happen to me.”
“Well, I can safely say that this is happening.” Suzanne trailed the tip of her tongue along Jen’s bottom lip.
That one movement had Jen soaked beyond comprehension. Suzanne was either going to make her insanely happy or break her heart. In this moment, she didn’t care which. She just knew she wanted to be here. Jen dragged her nails down Suzanne’s thigh, knowing she had to slow down. “The day I get you naked, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. I hope you know that.”
Suzanne’s hand fell to Jen’s knee, and then she squeezed as she whispered, “I can’t wait.”