[WARNING: MATURE THEMES AHEAD.]

The curve of her hip, slant of her cheek, taste of her lips. All familiar, but they didn't elicit the same response as in the past. If she'd returned after a year, Jackson would have welcomed her with open arms. Even after two, he'd been willing to rekindle what they'd had. But now, nothing. Well, the touch and smell of her excited him as any attractive, willing female rubbing against him would, but there was no love. Lust was another subject. If she wanted sex, he'd oblige.

He slid his palms to her ass, pulled her in nice and slow. She moved her fingers to the button on his jeans and made short work of undoing it, then the zipper.

No need for a trip to the bedroom, he'd take her right there. She must have had the same idea, because she reached under her skirt, and shimmed out of her panties. He took a condom from his wallet, then dropped his pants and boxers to his knees. He'd make short work of this and send on down the road. Tearing the package open with his teeth, he rolled on the protection. Hell, not knowing where she'd been, he might need to double bag himself. Taking a moment to picture Natalie Dormer, he lifted his real life partner to sit on the back of the chair. She wrapped legs around his waist and braced hands on his shoulders.

He grabbed her hips and drove into her hard, thrusting in and out, over and over, each entry stronger than the one before. She locked her legs, and he gave her more. No foreplay. No kissing. Just a good old fashion fuck me now. He didn't even care if she got pleasure out it. Sure as hell didn't deserve any. Not after tearing his heart out and leaving him so broken he didn't think he'd recover. Once he had, he realized he was better off. She was the kind who would always put personal needs and desires above all others. That was not the sort of woman he wanted to spend his life with.

Her nails dug into the flesh of his biceps. An orgasm ripped through him and he growled with the release. He couldn't remember his last fast and furious sex. Probably in college. Now came decision time. Send her away or keep her on the hook for a while? He'd always taken pride in satisfying his lovers, but Julie wasn't on that list.

She released her grip and fluttered her lashes. "Wow, baby. That was like you'd not had sex in a while. What's the matter? Your former girlfriend a little frigid? Is that why you broke up with her?"

Jackson backed away, dropped the condom in the trash, picked up his clothes and dressed. Ignoring her question, he thought of a reason for her return. She'd gone to the Big Apple with starry eyed dreams of becoming the next great artist and failed. She might be successful in Fairhope, Alabama, but New York City was a different story. Artists from all over the world struggled to get featured in galleries there. Well, if the woman thought she was going to claim him as a consolation prize, she was as nutty as Halley.

                                                                                            *

The phone woke him. He looked at the clock. Damn, not even seven yet. Who the hell would call this early? Palming his cell, he focused on the screen. Brother. Jackson accepted the call and eased out of bed. "Hey, hold on a minute." He pulled on his pajama pants and glanced at Julie, still asleep. After last night, she probably thought he was back in her life. She was in for a shock. She'd been double fucked and didn't even know it. Screwed and screwed over. Wonder how she liked it? He stomped into the living room, and put the cell phone back to his ear. "Something wrong?"

"Damn straight something's wrong. I can tell by your low tone, you have someone there and I'll bet it's Julie. Have you lost your friggin' mind?"

"How do you know about her?"

"Halley Rae came by last night crying on Isla's shoulder. So what's going on?"

"No need to worry."

"Do you have any idea how upset Mom will be when she finds out you're back together with Julie?"

"I'm not." Jackson peered down the hall to make sure his bed partner wasn't listening. "I can't talk right now. I'll come by and fill you in later. Don't say anything to Mom or Dad. And tell Isla the same."

"Stop by before you go to work. I'm not sure I can keep my little Izzy quiet about this."

"Okay." Jackson disconnected and went to the coffee maker to start a fresh pot. He'd even surprised himself at how much anger surfaced over what she'd done to him.

Arms slid around him from behind and he lost his thoughts.

"Good morning, Stud." She giggled. "Lord, Jackson. Once on the chair and two times in bed? That's more sex than when we first got together. I hoped you'd be glad to see me, but I underestimated how much."

Naked, she angled to face him and tiptoed for a kiss. When their lips parted, she smiled. "After all this time, I still love you. I made a terrible mistake by leaving."

He backed away and chuckled without humor. "Only took four years?"

"I wanted to come back before then, but I was embarrassed. Here I'd made this big production about going to New York and had too much pride to admit I was wrong. But the longer I stayed, it became clear I'd never be happy there. Away from you." She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him again, and melted into him.

He pushed away. What kind of monster had he turned into? The idea of getting even excited him. He slipped a condom from his pocket and tore it open.

She glanced at his erection and smiled. "Here, let me help you with that." She rolled it onto his hard shaft, then took him by the hand and guided him to the sofa. Pushing him down, she straddled him. Within a few seconds he was pounding into her.

She arched back, rested her hands on his knees, and matched him thrust for thrust. He didn't want her to climax, but she did. And as she whimpered his name over and over, it drove him to the edge, and he came undone.

Limp against him, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Jackson. I love you."

He lifted her from his lap. "So you want to take right back up where we left off?"

"Yes."

"Okay. As I recall that was with you leaving. So get your crap and get out."

Color drained from her face and the question came out in a weak whisper. "What?"

"Did you honestly think you'd waltz back into my life and everything would be fine?" He clamped his teeth together. "You destroyed me. I loved you. But not anymore."

She gulped for a breath. "But last night, you were so tender and loving. What was that about?"

Yeah, he'd taken his time to remind her of what she'd given up. He thinned his lips into a hard line. "I'm more than willing to give you my dick, but not my heart. Never again." He stood. Waited. She turned and ran down the hall. In a few minutes, she walked past him without comment, opened the door and slammed it behind her. Good riddance. He went into the bathroom and started the shower.

He should feel some remorse for what he'd done, but he didn't. After she'd called off the wedding, he faced all their friends and figured he'd been the punch line to plenty of jokes. It'd taken almost a year before he made it through a day without thinking about her. That kind of hurt festered and took a long time to heal, if ever. Seeing her again, had reopened the wound, and he admitted revenge helped close it.

An hour later, after he'd assured his brother Julie was out of the picture permanently, Jackson arrived at the office he shared with his dad. He noticed the shrubs around the sign out front had grown so tall, you could barely read, Bellefonte and Bellefonte Architecture – mouthful as it was. He made a mental note to trim them after work.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. "Hey, Nellie."

"Good morning. Tom Bradford had questions about the plans you dropped off yesterday, so your dad went to meet with him. He called to say the meeting is taking longer than expected. Needs you to cover the next appointment at Fairhope United."

"Okay. I'll get over there in a while. Oh, would you call Melinda over at the spa and ask when she'll decide on the bid for the interior? If it's Halley Rae, I'll want you to schedule my meetings separate from her."

Nellie raised her brows. "What's that about? Trouble in paradise?"

"We broke up, so I want to avoid seeing her."

"Gotcha. Will do. Oh, and Jackson, your dad said they have most of the parking closed off at the church, so park in the minister's spot. He's on sabbatical and won't be using it for a while."

"Sabbatical?"

"Translation, rehab for drinking."

He chuckled and thought how much he'd like a drink right about now.

                                                                                   *

Greer wasn't sure how long she stared at the papers, but it was as if the word divorce froze everything around her. How could it be? Ava and Evan had been the perfect couple. Had he found someone else? An affair? Or had Ava?

Greer wanted answers and she'd tried to read the document, but all the words blurred. She wondered if she'd ever stop crying so much.

Shari must know something or she would have never made the remark about death keeping them together. And how bitchy was that? She threw that morsel out there to see if Greer knew. That realization pissed her off.

Double pissed.

At Shari for not telling her the whole story, and at Ava for not confiding in Greer. Why not?

She slumped into the desk chair and covered her face with both hands. Did Emma know? Did she witness screaming matches? Heated arguments? Physical abuse? God, she hoped not. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her cell and the paper with the contact numbers from her pocket. Shari's, first on the list. Greer dialed and let it ring until it went to voice mail, then left a message.

She wished to clear her head. Get out of there. Go for a walk. Man, what she'd give for a few drinks, but she couldn't do that because in three hours she'd pick up Emma. She stuck the phone back in her pocket, went to the kitchen and grabbed the house key, then locked the door behind her.

She could talk to Mr. Mooney, but his car was gone. Even though he and Ava had not been close, he might know something. Who am I kidding? Ava wouldn't have cried on an old man's shoulder.

Thankfully, today the wind wasn't strong. Greer headed south with no idea of where she was going. She needed to leave that house and all its secrets and lies. A reflection of the life Ava and Evan shared. What a crock.

The sound of a jackhammer shook her from her worries. She noticed her surroundings. Already three blocks away from home in front of the Episcopal Church. Construction workers were busy adding on to the building. She turned her attention to the parking area. A man loaded boxes into the backseat of his dual cab pickup truck. When he closed the door, she saw the pastor's marker. Without thinking, she called out to him.

"Father?"

He spoke over his shoulder. "Sorry, but I'm not..." He turned. Paused. His eyes drifted over her. "How may I help you?"

He wasn't what Greer expected. Weren't ministers supposed to be older, fatter, and balder? This guy looked to be about her age, and gorgeous. Dirty blond hair, brilliant blue eyes, and when he smiled, dimples deepened like sugar down a funnel. Not dressed like a preacher should either. He wore jeans and cowboy boots. Silly her. What did she expect from a southern Alabama town where there was nothing but hicks and self-proclaimed cowboys?

"I was wondering what support groups your church offers."

He fished keys from his pocket, but continued to keep his eyes on her. "What kind do you need?"

"New mother."

Raising his brows, he eyed her from top to bottom. Not in a sexual way, but more as if judging her appearance. She'd not put on makeup and her hair; well he'd probably never seen the style before. A combination of straight, crimped, and braided.

Probably thought she was a weirdo.

"That's okay. I see you're about to leave. I shouldn't have interrupted." She turned to go, but he stepped forward.

"No bother." He scanned the area. "So you have a baby?"

Facing him again, she shook her head. "No. Yes. No."

Now he pulled his brows together. "Is it multiple choice?" And there were those dimples again.

Why was she so nervous? Must be his profession. She swallowed hard. No need for that. She was his type. Plenty sinful.

"I don't have children, but just became guardian to a six-year-old. I thought my sister had the perfect life, and learned it was anything but that. I'm a mess right now and don't know what to do." She flapped her hand in the air. "I should work this out on my own."

He moved two steps closer. "Are you unable to discuss this with your husband?"

"No husband. No boyfriend. Nobody. I don't even live here."

He offered a handshake. "I'm Jackson Bellefonte."

"Just Jackson? No Father Jackson or Father Bellefonte?"

"No. I was about to go down the street to The Bay Breeze Cafe. Why don't you join me and we can talk."

There was kindness in his voice. Probably a tone he'd practiced to offer sympathy and understanding to parishioners. She slid her palm into his. Warm and soft. Clearly a man who did little physical labor, but he must workout. What else could explain those broad shoulders and the way his butt filled out those jeans. She gave herself a mental slap. She shouldn't focus on his body parts or the shape they were in.

"Okay, I'm Greer."

He opened the door for her and she climbed in. He walked around and slid behind the wheel, then started the engine. "So where are you from?"

"Atlanta."

"Hmm. Nice city, I guess. How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks. I'm staying until the end of the school term. Since my niece just lost her parents, I thought a move might be too traumatic."

He swung into a parking spot near the cafe's entrance. Greer got out before he did and met him at the front of the truck. He held the door open for her and she went inside the café with him following close behind. He pointed to a corner booth. "How about that one? It'll give us privacy."

She nodded and headed that direction. Once seated, he opened the menu. "You want something to eat? I just remembered I've not had lunch."

She panicked. No money. No purse. But she'd not eaten either.

He peered over the menu. "My treat."

She giggled. "In that case, sure."

"Great. I hate to eat alone."

Greer wondered what made a guy who looked like this go into the ministry. Harrowing experience? Family tradition? Low testosterone?

The waitress came for their orders jarring Greer from her daydream.

When the server walked away, Jackson rested his arms on the table. "So what happened to upset you?"

"I can't understand why she died. Ava was the good one."

"Compared to who—you?"

She nodded.

"So, you're bad?"

Another nod.

"And why is that?"

"The short version? Two arrests. A divorce. A penchant for bad boys."

He chuckled. "You didn't kill anybody did you?"

"Public intoxication back in college."

"Well, none of those things make you a bad person. We all make mistakes."

Greer leaned forward and threaded her fingers together. Maybe she should give him the long version. "I know I'm not a horrible person. But today I discovered Ava's marriage was on the rocks and now she and Evan are dead. A friend of Ava indicated God took them so they wouldn't get a divorce. Do you think that's true?"

"I think we interpret things to fit our needs."

He looked as if he might say more, but the waitress returned with their food. Once alone again, Greer went back to the conversation. "I've had this child put in my care, and I'm no good at it."

"You're asking for advice, so I'd say you're not giving yourself enough credit."

Greer squirted ketchup onto her fries. "You know what I hate most? Usually, I'm a strong independent person. I run my own business. Ask any of my friends and they'll tell you I'm self-assured to the point of being a smart ass. Oh, sorry. I'll watch my language."

She waited to be scolded, but instead, he smiled, those dimples distracting her before she continued. "But in my current circumstance, I doubt everything I say and do. I'm so afraid it will be the wrong thing and Emma will suffer because of it."

Greer didn't say anything else, just concentrated on eating. She didn't know if he was doing the same or giving her time to think about the things he'd said. He wasn't like any clergy she'd ever met. She'd expected him to get all preachy, but he'd listened.

He swigged his tea, training those deep blues on hers. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, and in most cases like yours, I'd be hearing something different. Not once have you complained about your niece being a burden, or you giving up your so-called bad-girl lifestyle to care for her. Your only concern has been that you're afraid you won't do a good job. Take my word, there are plenty of selfish individuals out there who only think of themselves and you are definitely not in that category. You'll be fine."

"You know, Jackson, you're not like any preacher I've ever met."

He double dimpled her. "I think people forget ministers' struggle like everyone else. Why don't we meet here again same time tomorrow. You can tell me more about this bad-girl reputation you're convinced you have."

She shouldn't agree to another meeting, but he put her at such ease, and she needed adult conversation. But with a hot preacher?

She glanced at her watch. "So noon?"

He didn't speak, just nodded.

She drew a silent breath. How dangerous could it be? By the first of June, she'd be back in Atlanta, and he probably didn't have a tattoo anywhere.

-----------------------------------------------

Finally they meet! And Jackson's already got himself into a lie. Yikes.

Anyway, vote, comment, whatever if you liked it!

Til next time,

x zuz