102 - Working on a Dream

The man is an amazing lover.

He had paid her ‘pay for that’ in a couple of different torturous ways that did nothing to discourage her from doing ‘that’ again.  She was boneless and sated, her hand gliding along his spine while he lay against her breast.

“Are you going to tell me what happened at Dorothea’s now?” Petey asked in the quiet aftermath.  Her thumb fiddled with the band on her engagement ring, its unfamiliar weight sitting heavy on her hand.

“Nothing happened,” was the sleepily mumbled reply.  He hadn’t slept much last night on the couch, she knew, and that fatigue combined with softness of her bed and her body was proving difficult for him to resist.

Petey brushed the damp tendrils from his forehead, her forehead crinkling.  “I don’t believe that.  You came out more pissed than you went in.”

“I wasn’t pissed going in,” he denied, his lips tickling her with their protest.  “I was preoccupied, worrying about what you were going to say.”

“Whatever.  You still came out pissed.”

His wide hand splayed over her bare stomach, its warmth searing her skin.  It made her not mind being uncovered.  Seeing his bare butt was another reason not to mind.

“Mm.”  He grumbled quietly, flopping off of her and bunching a pillow under his head.  “My mom is being a pain in the ass.  I’m gonna have to go see her.”

“Yeah?  How so?”  She reversed their roles, easing over to rest herself against his chest and toy with the hair dusting the flat plane of his abdomen. 

Chin tucked into his chest, Jon looked dubiously down at her.  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes.”  Petey’s unfettered shoulder lifted in a slight shrug.  “If we’re engaged I should start getting involved with your family, right?”

“Oh, Sugar,” he chuckled.  “I don’t know if you should or not.  I love my mom, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

She pivoted her head and arched a brow at him.  “Kinda like her son?” she inquired drolly.  “I think I can handle her.  So what did she do?”

From the sour pucker on his face, he didn’t really care for being compared to his mother.  “Yeah, well I guess we’ll see.”  He settled her into his chest with a sigh, and Petey felt his muscles tense beneath her.  “She’s giving Tony shit over Dottie.  Well…  I take that back.”  He huffed with disgust.  “She’s giving Tony shit, saying he’s trying to live my life through my hand-me-downs.  I swear to God, no wonder my brothers hate me.  They’ve been unfairly compared to me for most of their lives.”

“They don’t hate you.  I know Tony doesn’t, anyway.  He wants to do a good job for you, and you’re a demanding dictator, but he doesn’t hate you.”

Tightening his arms around her briefly, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.  “He asked about you.  Wants to know if you’re coming back to work.”

That was in the post-engagement pile of stuff to be sifted through, along with dozens of other things.  What had she been thinking, saying yes when there was so much unresolved?

You were thinking he makes you feel like nobody else can.

“The ring couldn’t be any more perfect,” she remarked softly, looking down at her hand and tilting it so the jewels caught the light.  “But this engagement doesn’t solve any problems, Jon.  It actually creates more.  I don’t think I can be held accountable for a post-orgasmic decision.”

“Whoa.  Just stop right there.”  Jon pulled himself up in the bed, forcing her to do the same.  Both of them propped their bare backs against the pale pink wall.  “You already said yes, so don’t get any ideas about backing out on me.”

Petey drew her knees up to her chest and burrowed her toes under the covers until they were all the way up to her chin.  The warm afterglow was dissipating and a chill was starting to seep in. 

“This is a completely impractical idea though,” she reasoned as he covered himself to the waist with the fluffy pink comforter.  “We’ve only known each other a very short time, and outside of sex, we really know nothing about one another.  What are our families going to say?  Your kids, your parents?  My parents?” 

“Does it matter?  As long as we’re happy, they should be happy.”

She cut him a look of incredulity.  “You can really say that after what happened with your mom and Tony?” Her hands began moving animatedly as the rest of her sand castle of dreams continued its disintegration.  “And what about my job with Tony?  Is that even an option now?  Is it inappropriate to go out on the road with you?  What if the pictures surface?  Married, engaged, or whatever, they’re still not something I want anyone to see.  And what about Daniel?  I don’t want to cower away somewhere, so what are we going to do about him? This brought more questions than solutions.  And…” 

“Jesus, slow down,” he muttered, pulling her into his embrace.  “We have to deal with all of that shit whether we’re married or not, and I’d much rather have you by my side while we do it.”

Petey swiveled her head to fix him with an unwavering look.  “I’m the only daughter and it would kill my mother if we got a quickie wedding at City Hall.  I don’t need a lot of fancy stuff, but I want a real wedding.  She deserves that.”

“Sugar, you deserve it.”  His countenance darkened as he studied her.  “You’ve put up with a lot of shit in your life.  I’m not trying to make marrying me one more thing to endure.  The fact is, I have a ridiculous amount of money, and that has the magical ability to make the impossible possible.  Whatever wedding you want can be put together in days.  Just because I want to do this now, doesn’t mean it has to be a City Hall quickie.”

“God,” she moaned burrowing her head into his chest.  “Why am I afraid Mom will ask me if I’m pregnant?”

He didn’t laugh like she expected him to, and she turned to search his face.  It was both stunned and thoughtful.  One hand rested on his stomach and the other on the lower curve of her back, but he didn’t move either.  She’d finally said something that gave him pause.

“I’m not pregnant,” she laughed humorlessly, misinterpreting his concern. 

“Do you wanna be?”

“What?”  Petey didn’t have any trouble hearing the quietly spoken question, but her interpretation was coming a little more slowly.

“Do you want to be pregnant?  If we get married are you gonna want to add to our family?”

Huh.

In the fray of questions littering her mind, that one hadn’t come near the surface.  It was a valid question, however.

Daniel never wanted children, and she had agreed to his terms when they got engaged.  That’s why she had been taking Depo-Provera shots for several years now.  Petey never expected to be anyone’s mother, but then again, no one had ever point-blanked asked her if she wanted to be. 

“I can’t really answer that,” she stuttered after a moment of silence, unnerved by the directness of his gaze.  Jon was looking past her face, trying to get into her head.  “I don’t know.  Do you want more kids?”

“I don’t know either.  I’m really too old to start over again, but I will if it’s what you want.”

As far as concessions went, it was markedly underwhelming, but for some reason it struck Petey with the clarity of fine crystal. 

He lacked any patience whatsoever.  He was a complete and total jerk when he didn’t get his way.  But he also had a soft spot buried a mile deep.  No, he wasn’t romantic and he didn’t make a big deal about it, but when it was important, Jon would take a step back and put someone else’s needs or wants first. 

It may seem like he was covering his own butt, but now she understood it’s why he really proposed – to protect her and the kids.

She lifted a gentle hand to rest against his chest, saying earnestly, “Jon, we don’t have to get married because of this… stuff.  We can figure another way to handle it.”

“No.”  His dirty blonde locks shook along with his head as he covered her hand with thick, warm palm.  “I admit I felt a little pressured and rushed into it, but once you said no…  I knew it wasn’t about our situation anymore.  It was about us, and how much I wanted you to say yes.”

His hand closed tightly around hers and he brought her fingertips to his for a quick kiss.  “I stand by my earlier statement.  I know this is a serious commitment that I promise to live up to.  My groupie days are over, Petey.  If we get married, there won’t be anybody but you.”  He flashed that brilliant smile at her.  “But I’m gonna expect you to honor your contract with Tony and come on the tour.”

She gave him one dimple in return.  “Answer me one question.  Honestly.”

“Okay, shoot.”

The dimple faded and she assumed an expression of impartial interest.  “Would you be so willing to marry me if I weren’t a Heinz-Kerry?”

“Dammit,” he growled.  “I’m not going to say this again, and once you get out of this bed with…”  He lifted her left hand in front of her face, ring twinkling. “… this ring on your hand, the discussion is final.  I’m not going back and forth and back and forth over this, so pay close attention.” 

The knuckle of his forefinger hooked under her chin and he locked eyes that were the shade of perfectly faded denim with hers. “I don’t want a cookie cutter political socialite.  I want an imp who isn’t afraid to give me hell when I need it.  I want a quirky, sarcastic, cotton candy smelling, self-proclaimed social misfit with pink hair who inexplicably loves me and my kids.  That’s you, Sugar.”

Her eyes welled, but she only smiled and blinked the few errant tears away.  “I’m not sarcastic all the time, but I do like giving you hell.  Fighting with you is the best kind of foreplay.”

Blonde eyebrows lifted, interest piqued.  “Is that what we’re doing?  Having foreplay?”

“You think you can get it up again?”

The infamous nerd laugh echoed throughout her bedroom and filled her heart.  It may be unconventional to the rest of the world, but they worked.  She loved him just the way he was.

He planted a hard, smacking kiss on her lips.  “You’re about to find out.  But first…”  Only one of the blonde eyebrows kicked up in question.  “We good?  You gonna be wearing that ring when you get out of this bed?”

“My God, talk about unromantic,” she pretended to complained, reaching over the side of the bed for Jon’s pants.  “Where is your phone?  You need to talk to Richie in the worst way.”

A loud smack glanced off of her bare butt cheek and he hauled her back into bed by the elbow with a threatening growl.  “Like hell I do.  I’m gonna give you this once, you little imp, so take note and appreciate it.”

Roughened fingertips brushed against the column of her neck, propping themselves there while his thumb nudged at her jaw so they were nose to nose.  “When you came knocking on my door all those weeks ago, I was nothing but a bored workaholic.  You brought a spark into my life that I’d been missing, and I don’t want to let you go.   I love you Petey Diehl.  So one last time…  Will you marry me?  Now?  This week?”

She bit her lip, fighting a giggle even as she grinned at him.  Richie seriously had to be the one writing the romantic lyrics in that partnership, but Jon had clearly given this a concentrated effort and she couldn’t be more pleased.  “Yes.  I’ll marry you.  Give me until Saturday.”

“Final answer?” He was understandable skeptical.

Petey inched forward the few inches it would take to touch her smiling lips to his.  “Final answer,” she murmured before their mouths locked together and she found out that he could, indeed, get it up again.