A Matter of When
“Good turnout tonight.”
Despite the craziness of the night, Heather couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her features when she heard Jake’s voice. It had become an involuntary reaction when he was near. From where she stood at the sink of the school kitchen, she glanced over her shoulder to see him in the doorway, felt her breath catch, and then turned completely to face him. “I thought it was, and people seemed to have fun.”
The corners of Jake’s mouth turned upward in that half-smile she had grown to know so well. “Even if I did scare the hell out of Deville Sewter?”
“Even so. Look on the bright side. I don’t think he’ll be trying anything like that again anytime soon. But all in all, I’m so glad the reluctant Sheriff Green could make it tonight.”
“Guess you could say I was compelled.”
Heather reached for a dish towel, dried her hands, and leaned back against the cabinetry, watching him. Jake ambled further into the kitchen with a casualness that only fueled her anticipation for him, for what was to come. Despite the near giddiness building within her that the evening was nearly over, that they would finally have some time alone, she tried to maintain her cool.
“Hmmm. And who could compel the very handsome, very brave, and very headstrong sheriff to venture out into the world of pink and red hearts?”
Jake walked slowly toward her, sliding his hand along the edge of the work table. All evening he’d wanted to be close to her, but with Heather scurrying around to make sure the social was a success, coupled with his own distractions, there had been little time to be alone. A snatched moment here. A stolen moment there. And now that he was close? He just wanted to savor every moment, every smile, every glance. “Don’t forget the naked, winged babies with bows and arrows. I was taking my life into my own hands coming here tonight.”
“Says the man who’s dodged bullets and punches.”
She smiled as the distance between them was closed. He leaned against the cabinet himself, one arm on either side of her caging her in, but not yet touching her.
“But who just can’t—won’t—dodge you. I think you know who compels me.” His nearness sent a sensation of utter exhilaration through her.
Without another word, he caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers, and covered her lips with his own. He could feel her sigh against him, and she parted her lips slightly, her breath warm and sweet like fruit punch. Jake tasted her, letting himself be filled by her essence. The kiss, though, remained light, innocent. As much as he wanted to sink his tongue into her for a fuller taste, this was not the time or place for what he craved. Finally, when he no longer trusted himself to keep it simple and innocent, he slowly pulled away.
His eyes locked on hers, and he could see the look of wonder on her face and felt it must mirror his own.
How many times had they kissed in the last few months? Hundreds? Thousands? It would never be enough. He’d known that since the first night they’d reconnected, the night before Thanksgiving when he’d walked her home. Enough time had passed that they had even joked about how they’d crashed and burned the last time they had tried being more than friends. When it came time to say goodnight, neither had wanted to utter those words. So instead, they spent the night talking, drinking weak coffee, and laughing. And ever since that night, they hadn’t spent a whole day apart.
And now? He could look at her and see his future standing before him, and his future had beautiful blue eyes and an even more beautiful heart.
He reached down, took her small hand, and squeezed it gently. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I’d been wanting to kiss you all night,” he admitted. “Made coming to this worthwhile.”
“So I compelled you to come here tonight.” The proud tone of her voice made Jake chuckle.
“Definitely you. The fruit punch wasn’t even spiked.”
Heather laughed. “We’re at a community social with little kids and the elderly! You don’t spike the punch at the high school!”
Jake looked around at their surroundings. If not for her, there was no way he would’ve stepped foot inside the building, but helping with this was important to her, having that sense of community. Him? He’d just as soon have that sense of community at Bailey’s Tavern, but trying to get the community back to a sense of normalcy was partly what she’d dedicated her time to. She’d even turned down a job in the Charles Administration to stay in Jericho, teach half the day, and spend the other half doing whatever needed doing. “It’s been done before,” he smirked.
Heather’s eyes widened, realizing he was telling on himself. “You were awful! How did your mom ever survive raising you?” But even through her chastisement, she laughed.
“Because she didn’t know the half of it,” he smirked.
“Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.”
He leaned down, his forehead against hers. “I can think of other ways to be blissful.” His rich, velvety voice tickled the delicate shell of her ear, causing her heart skip a beat. She loved being close to him. She also just plain loved him. But she also knew the physical aspect of their relationship hadn’t progressed as far as he might have preferred. Through it all, Jake had been very patient.
Early on when they began seeing each other again, Heather had made it clear that she wanted them to get it right, though each had different opinions about what that meant. She felt emotional intimacy was the key to a lasting relationship, and the physical intimacy would come about as a progression of the emotions. This was a new approach for Jake, who in the past hadn’t thought of love and sex as being mutually exclusive. He assured Heather this wasn’t a casual fling for him, and while this approach to a relationship was not what he was accustomed to, he secretly thought he would have agreed to just about anything she asked of him.
And so Jake took his cues from her. Their kisses had started as mostly short, mostly sweet. A goodnight. A hello. She would stand on her tip-toes when he walked her to the door and lightly press her lips to his. He would lean down for his favorite greeting when she’d meet him for lunch at Bailey’s.
They’d graduated from there to longer, deeper kisses with full body contact. The first had come as they stood under the mistletoe at his mom’s house a week before Christmas. He’d expected it to be a short, mostly sweet kiss, but when Heather had balled his shirt with her fists and pulled him closer, the kiss turned long, hot, and there was nothing sweet about what she made him feel. For her part, Heather had started to regret the talk about taking things slow. There was slow, and then there was s-l-o-o-o-w. Spurred by some liquid courage, she staked her claim on him under the mistletoe at the Green Christmas Party, much to the amusement of those around them and to the dismay of Angie Sloan, who’d had designs on him herself.
In the days that followed, alone together at her house, when she began to explore his clothed body with her hands, he’d begun to do the same to her, feeling her soft curves, letting his touches linger around her hips, her thighs, her breasts. In the process, he’d discovered she was ticklish in some areas. And with an opportunity too good to pass up, he’d mercilessly trapped her on the sofa, tickling her until, in absolute desperation, she’d pulled him atop her and begged for mercy. Their limbs wrapped around one another, neither one feeling merciful while their kisses were searing and intense, and Heather had found herself arching against him, feeling his desire for her, so close but not close enough. She could spend hours wrapped up in him, and she had.
When her hands began to find their way under his clothes, he’d begun to find it exceedingly difficult to not press her for more when all he wanted to do was bury himself in her. It had gotten to the point where he would sometimes call for a time-out, despite her greedy protests. They would focus their attention on a project to cut through the sexual tension. It would amaze her that when she worked with him, even the most mundane job seemed exciting. Likewise, it astounded him how when he worked with her, the hours seemed to pass like minutes.
And his patience only made her anticipate what was to come even more. As far as she was concerned, it wasn’t a matter of if but when.
But it wasn’t just the lovemaking they both anticipated. They also talked about what it would be like when they got married and when they had a family. It was a very different world in which they were living than the one they’d known only a few years before. The challenges would be more difficult, but she found herself looking forward to meeting those challenges with him by her side.
For now, though, they were in a holding pattern. They had been for the last several days as she was roped into helping with the Valentine social due to the illness of Mrs. Carmichael; and between her job, his job, and the preparations for the event, they’d had very little alone time.
This particular evening had been torturous for them both, though they affected all the expected pleasantries. Not that they didn’t enjoy being around their friends and neighbors, but every time they would catch a moment together, someone approached them to visit, or Heather was needed to help pull more refreshments from the kitchen or put out some other proverbial fire. Simply put, he felt starved for her, and she for him.
And now, with Jake so close, his words so alluring, Heather felt like she could barely breathe without going breathless.
She hooked her fingers in the waist of his pants, fiddling with a belt loop with her thumb. “You are making it so hard to behave!”
He shot her a look, as though to say, ‘Your point?’
“There are still people out there! If they were to come in here and see us…” Her words trailed off when he began nuzzling her neck.
“They’d know you can’t keep your hands off me,” he teased.
“Hah.”
He looked down. “Well, you’re the one with your hands in my pants.”
“Fingers,” she replied pulling them out.
“Same difference.”
“Big difference,” she countered.
“What am I going to do with you?” His voice was low, husky.
“Kiss me.”
He smiled at her contradictory words and acquiesced to her command. Anchoring himself to her by placing his hands around her waist, he brushed his lips against hers, drawing back, and going in for more. He was teasing her, he realized, but he couldn’t afford to let things get out of hand.
When he stepped back, she felt the loss of his warmth and nearness jar her back to her surroundings. “I…I should finish washing these dishes.”
“I’ll wash. You rinse,” he offered.
“That’s very nice of you.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Yeah, there’s nothing nice about it. Sooner you get done here, the sooner I get you to myself.”
“Barring any crises.”
“No trouble tonight. I told Jimmy to handle whatever else comes up.”
Her response came out as a happy sigh. “Music to my ears.”
The two settled into a steady routine, making short work of the dishes. Heather had already scraped the plates, so Jake dunked them in the hot, soapy water, scrubbed off any food particles she had missed, and passed them to her to rinse with the spray nozzle. Occasionally, he would bump her hip, knocking her slightly off balance, playing it off as an accident. Yet if his laugh hadn’t been a dead giveaway, his loud, exaggerated announcement of “Ooops!” that preceded each bump on the hip, certainly was.
A few people filtered in and out of the kitchen, bringing more plates and silverware, earning Jake and Heather stares as they acted more like teenagers than grownups. This was not the brooding Jake Green they were used to seeing.
Finally, Heather was rinsing the last dish that Jake had washed when, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed some motion. When she turned her head to see what Jake was doing, she was stunned to find him down on one knee looking up at her. “Tomorrow will be our first Valentine’s Day together, and I know this is really sudden, but I have an important question to ask you.”
Heather’s eyes widened. They’d been talking about this moment, but she thought he’d said Valentine’s Day was too obvious, that he wanted the timing to be a surprise. It didn’t matter. The answer was yes. Yes. “Oh my goodness. Jake—“
“Don’t you think those Cupid cut-outs the decorating committee used were a little creepy?” And then he proceeded to retie his boot.
“Jake Green!” she gasped as he laughed. “You are going to pay for that!” With the spray nozzle still in her hand, she squeezed the trigger, showering him with water.
Still laughing, Jake tried to wrestle the nozzle from her. With his longer arms and superior strength, he had little trouble turning the spray of water on her. Water drenching her, she reached behind herself and shut off the water supply.
They stood for a moment, water dripping from their hair, their skin, their clothes, though Heather bore the brunt of the soaking. Jake saw Heather’s eyes shift, but before he could do anything about it, she cupped water and soap suds from the dishwater, and doused him. He tried to move back, lost his footing, and down he went on the linoleum floor. She thought she heard a rip.
Between stifled giggles, she leaned over him and asked, “Are you…are you all right down there?”
“Help me up,” he replied holding up his hand.
“Uh, no. I’m not falling for that!”
He sat up, propping himself with his hands. “What are you talking about?”
“If I give you my hand, you’re just going to pull me down there with you.”
“Would I do that to you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re right.” And with that, he lunged forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her down on top of him, though if Heather had been cornered, she would have admitted that she didn’t put up too much of a fight.
And so Jake Green and Heather Lisinski were soaking wet, lying in a huge puddle of water on the floor, laughing.
“I think I split my pants when I fell,” Jake groaned.
She poked his ribs. “Serves you right.”
“Oh, the cruelty!”
“That’s right.” Using her hands to support her, she pushed up, perching over him. She planted tiny kisses along his jaw line and could feel his body responding to her innocent touches. “So what’re you going to do about it?” she challenged.
“I’m gonna marry you.”
Had she heard him right? She drew back slightly, looking down at him. “Wh-what?”
He reached up brushed aside a wet lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead. “Marry me, Heather.”
“Oh, Jake.” Her forehead creased with worry. “I don’t think I can give you an answer…until I tie my shoe.”
***
In the time that followed, Jake discovered he had, indeed, split his pants. But later at Heather’s house, with their clothes hanging in front of the fire in the living room to dry and the occupants of the house in an altogether different room, it turned out they weren’t really needed.
After all, it hadn’t been a matter of if, but a matter of when.
When had arrived.
Acknowledgement: Jake's pseudo proposal/shoe tying was inspired by Jim Halpert on The Office, who played a similar joke on his lady love.