Chapter Four
"Well, I have to admit, it's a lot cleaner than I had thought it would be," she teased, turning to look at him.
He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, don't look in the closets. I kind of threw everything in there, but I did do some cleaning. I mean, I dusted and stuff." And there was that laugh again. The soft giggle, the sparkle in her eyes, the color that raced to her face. He leaned over and nudged her with his elbow. "I promised you a good movie, so I'll let you pick it out."
"Oh, really? You trust me to pick out a good movie?" she asked, her lips curling into a smile. She laughed at the look of mock horror on his face, nudging him back before following him into the dark living room of the apartment. He turned on a nearby lamp and knelt down on the ground, reaching underneath the futon couch, pulling out two large plastic storage boxes filled with video tapes.
Jay shrugged at her look. "What, it helps keep the couch from falling anytime anyone sits on it. I also don't suggest sleeping on it. I've been meaning to buy a new one."
Andrea's eyes scanned the living room. "Well, it's a good thing that you have that armchair then, because I don't think that I trust your chesterfield all that much." She knelt down on the ground next to him, pawing through the movies. He sat back and watched her face as she examined each cover carefully, reading the back of it before putting it back. The look of concentration of her face brought a smile to his; she was taking it as seriously as she would as if she were buying a car or a house.
It had taken a good twenty minutes for her to pick the movie that she wanted to watch, and when he turned away from putting the video in, he saw her curled in the worn, but comfortable armchair. "It looks like I ended up with the best seat," she told him, her head cocked to the side as she smiled up at him.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" he asked, before walking over to her. He slipped an arm under her legs, the other looping around her back before he pulled her into the air, listening to her squeal of surprise. He took her seat and then settled her on his lap, her head automatically resting against his shoulder. It wasn't the closest they had been, but it was damned close, and to tell the truth, he had wondered if he was going to get an opportunity to do something like that.
The movie couldn't hold their attention, however. They were both distracted through the first half hour of it, despite the fact that he had watched it before and had enjoyed it. If asked, he wouldn't honestly be able to say who had started the first kiss. It had seemed mutual, both of them turning to look at the other, their lips meeting halfway. One hand rested on her thigh, the other brushing the long, heavy hair out of her face. The movie was only background noise as he shifted her to bring her closer, tearing his lips away from hers only to kiss the nearby skin of her neck. He raised his face from her heated skin, trying to slow his ragged breathing. "Andrea," he said, reaching a hand out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her eye. "We should probably stop."
She smirked, before tugging on her blouse to straighten out the creases. "What if I don't want to?" she challenged him, a single eyebrow raised.
Jay sighed. "You know, you play me hot and cold all the time. I never know what I'm going to get from you."
"In all honesty, I don't think that I could play cold right now if I wanted to." She shook her head, meeting his eyes with a smile. "Do you really think that I believed you when you invited me here just to watch a movie. Please, Jay, that's like code word for 'let's make out'. I may not have been born in Canada, but I have been here long enough to know what that means."
He chuckled at her wide-eyed innocent look. "I asked you here to watch a movie. That's all," he protested, laughing harder when she smirked at him.
"Don't try to insult my intelligence. You should know better than that by now."
"Fine. All right. I did have an...ulterior motive. God, you British people are too smart for me." He chuckled at her half-hearted shove. "But it's not what you think," the man continued quickly.
Her brown eyes rolled. "Oh, please, you expect me to believe that all of this was just an elaborate ploy to get me to sit in your lap?" Her smile widened at the delicate flush that came to his face, as well as the slight shrug of his muscular shoulders. She slipped her hand under his lowered chin and brought it up so that their eyes met again. "Jason, stop blithering and kiss me already. Whatever happens...well, it happens," she finished lamely, only moments before his lips crashed back down onto hers.
He woke from his restless sleep slowly, his eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling. The blankets that had covered him were mostly on the floor, the cool air causing goosebumps to rise on his bare arms. No, that wasn't true, he told himself, groaning as he rolled over. It was the damned dream, or flashback, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. He could feel the same emotions taking him over, the same ones that he had felt that night. The desire, the excitement...God, he needed to stop that.
Every time she was around, his sleep was filled with memories of the past, of things they had done together, of the better moments of their relationship. And he was sick of reliving the past. He knew it was going to happen when he had offered to fly them both out to New York to meet him, but he thought maybe this time, he would have been able to escape the memories.
His luck had never been that good to begin with, so why the hell did he think it was going to change this time.
"Morning, Andie," he said when she opened the door.
Her shoulders tensed automatically, straightening her back at the old nickname. He had been the only one to call her that, after a month of teasing her about her lack of a nickname. The last time he had called her that, it had been two months after Christina had been born. "Good morning, Jason," she said in return, allowing him to walk into the room.
He immediately went over to the little girl lying on the bed, still in the pajamas that her mother had put her in the night before. "Morning, munchkin," he said, before picking her up. She laughed and squealed. "What are you still doing here in your pajamas? Shouldn't you be dressed and ready for breakfast?"
"Cartoons are on," she said from where she was cradled in his arms. He shifted her weight so that she was thrown over his shoulder. "Daddy, put me down."
He swung her back around. "Only if you promise that you're going to get dressed. Hasn't anyone told you, breakfast is the most important meal of the entire day. If you never eat it, you're not going to grow anymore, and you don't want to be six forever."
"Six and a half," she pouted.
"All right, six and a half," he amended. He put her on the ground and lightly tapped her back end to get her moving. "Come on, you've got your choice between pancakes and waffles, but only if you're dressed in the next ten minutes. Otherwise, you're going to have to eat oatmeal." He laughed at her wrinkled nose and pout as she accepted the change of clothes from her mother and ran into the bathroom to get changed. "I see you haven't gotten her over her dislike of oatmeal."
Andrea shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ears. It curled forward still, the points brushing her cheeks. "She takes after you in that aspect," she said stiffly. Turning away from him, she busied herself with finding the container of hair ties and barrettes she had brought with her, smiling when the bathroom door opened, and her daughter walked out. "Did you brush your teeth and face your face?" she asked. When the girl nodded, she motioned for her to go back towards the bed, climbing in between her mother's legs, as her hair was brushed out and placed in a small ponytail, only using the front half of her hair, the rest of the rich blonde flowing down her back. "There, you're all ready to go."
"No, you're coming, too, Mommy," Christina said, eyes wide as she turned towards her father. "Right, Daddy? Mommy's coming for breakfast."
Andrea shook her head, forcing a smile. "We came here so you could spend time with your Dad. I'm with you all the time. You go for breakfast with him, Christie."
The little girl shook her head furiously, blonde hair whipping around her face. "No, I want you to come to." When she looked up at her father, there was a trace of tears in her blue eyes. "Please, Daddy. Tell her she has to come with us. I don't want her to be alone, and...and I never get to have breakfast with both of you, and I really want to. I really, really want to. Please."
Jay sighed, biting his lip when he saw the bottom lip that was sticking out, the single tear that rolled down his daughter's face. Oh, she knew how to get to him. It never worked with her mother, who would just let her sit there and cry until she was tired. But he couldn't. He knew he was being soft, but he didn't want to disappoint the little girl, especially after the warning that he had gotten from his ex-wife the night before. "I don't think it would be the end of the world," he said quietly. "It's only breakfast."
The woman rolled her eyes. "I don't eat breakfast, and you both know that."
"Then have coffee, or something. Come on, she's crying. It's not like having breakfast is going to kill either of us, and I'm sure that if Chris or Adam see us down there, they're going to join us." When she remained silent, he slowly raised his eyebrows and nodded at their daughter. "Andrea," he said softly.
She threw her hands in the air, laughing when her daughter turned around and hugged her fiercely around the waist. "Fine, I'll go. Just let me wash up and grab my purse." She stood up, disentangling herself from the little girl, before walking over to where Jay was standing. She lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "But this better be as civil as you promised, and one of those two better show up," she warned.
Chapter Five
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