Janet Evanovich - The Grand Finale

“She had a pepperoni pizza at about seven.”

“Is she allowed to eat that? I mean isn’t she on a special diet after her ordeal?”

Jake gave her a black look. “I let her run around loose as a special treat, and she ate some guy’s pizza when he went to the John.”

“Oh, dear.”

“She even ate his napkin.”

“Anything else I should know about? How’s her stomach?”

“Her stomach’s fine. How’s your stomach?”

Obviously he didn’t want to talk about the dog. “My stomach’s okay.”

“Humph.” He slouched onto a kitchen chair and turned his attention to the newspaper.

Humph? What kind of an answer was humph? How was she supposed to make conversation with a man that said humph and then pressed his nose into the sports page? She had to tell him about success and failure and commitment. She was ready for all that stuff. More than ready-practically panting. Marriage would be wonderful this time. She looked at Jake and thought her heart would burst. Lord, she loved him. Allen had been a roommate. Jake was her friend, her lover, her helpmate, her hero. She hugged herself and twirled around as she went to the kitchen to fill a water bowl for the puppy.

Jake squinted at her antics over the top of his paper. “Humph,” he mumbled, rattling the funnies.

Berry glared down at him. “What’s all this humph?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just happy to see you so happy.”

“Do you know what would make me really happy? Going to bed. Are you coming with me?”

Jake stayed hidden behind his paper.

“Okay,” Berry said. “I’m going to take that as a yes. I’m going to take a nice long, soapy shower and then I’m going to take my overheated naked body to bed.”

Thirty minutes later, Berry was in bed alone and her overheated naked body was cooling off fast. Now what? Where the heck was he? She rolled out of bed and stomped out to the darkened living room.

When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she blinked in disbelief at the inert form stretched out on the floor. Jake was asleep! Berry stood openmouthed, listening to his gentle regular breathing, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. The puppy slept beside him, curled into a ball, tucked securely under his left armpit. Adorable, she thought. And all done in. Obviously they’d both had an exhausting day. She tucked a quilt around them and went to bed. She shut off the lamp on her nightstand. She watched the minutes change on her digital clock. She watched the lights of passing cars reflect on her window shade. She picked the nail polish off her index finger.

“I can’t sleep,” she groaned. “I’m in lust.”

Okay, we’ll do this scientifically. Relax toes. Relax ankles. Relax knees. Relax thighs. Relax whatever was next. It wasn’t working! She turned onto her stomach and smushed her face into the pillow. She needed something to get her mind off her body. She could worry about Mrs. Dugan. Mrs. Fitz and Harry were wheeling their way south. Berry opened one eye and checked out the clock. What was Mrs. Fitz doing right now? Berry rolled her eyes. They were probably in bed. Together! Damn. She flung herself onto her back and thrashed around until she was hopelessly tangled in the sheet. This was all Jake’s fault, the slimeball. How dare he sleep when she was in such a state.

She heard rustling in the living room, and a band of light flashed on under her door.

“What the devil?” Jake mumbled. “Oh, damn!”

Berry thought about it for a minute and reached the obvious conclusion. “Pepperoni pizza?” she called to Jake.

“My dream about a floppy-eared dog didn’t include this.”

“Is Jane okay?”

“Jane is great. I put her in the playpen, and she’s asleep already.”

Berry hugged herself and curled her toes. What a shame. Now Jake was going to have to take a shower and find another place to sleep. She smoothed the sheets and plumped her pillow.

Jake stormed into the bathroom, muttering colorful phrases, and slammed the door. Minutes later he emerged with damp hair and a towel precariously draped on his hips. He stood at the edge of the bed and peered at Berry in the semidarkness. “Well?”

Berry looked up at him. “Well what?”

Jake dropped his towel and slid under the quilt and turned to Berry. “Listen, Berry-” He sighed heavily and rolled away from her. “Oh, hell.”

Something was going wrong here, Berry thought. She was in bed with a naked man, and he just turned his back on her. She understood about being tired, but this was going too far. This was getting insulting. So, the hell with him. She rolled away and straightened the sheet. She shaped her pillow just so. She looked for just the perfect position.

“Berry.”

“You growled?”

“What are you doing? Practicing the polka?”

“I can’t get comfortable.”

“It would be nice if you didn’t make it my problem. I’ve had a lousy day. I’d like nothing better than to get back to sleep.”

“Ugh.” Berry smacked him with her pillow.

Jake snatched the pillow from her and tucked it under his head.

“Jake Sawyer, give me back my pillow!”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. It’s mine now.”

Berry ripped the quilt from him and wrapped herself in it cocoon style, gloating over the gasp of surprise she’d provoked. Two could play this game. He wasn’t the only one who was capable of acting childish.

Jake grabbed an end and dumped her out of the quilt.

“Hey, possession is nine-tenths of the law!” Berry said.

“Only when you’re big and strong like me.” He placed the pillow in the middle of the bed and pointed with his finger. “That half of the pillow is yours.” He draped the quilt over them and tucked her in. “How’s your stomach?”

“It’s fine. How’s yours?”

What was with this stomach stuff? That had to be the third time tonight he’d asked about her stomach.

“Mmmph.” He slammed his head onto his half of the pillow.

“We don’t fit like this,” Berry said. “I can’t get my head onto my half of the pillow.”

He silently rolled to his side, and Berry inched her way over. Now they were back to back, tush to tush. Berry watched the digital minutes tick by. She couldn’t sleep like this. Tush to tush was uncomfortable. She held her breath and very carefully rolled over until she was facing Jake, spoon fashion. Yes, she decided, this was much better.

For lack of something better to do with her arm, she draped it over his waist and rested her cheek just millimeters from his neck. Mmmm, she was getting more comfortable all the time, but the angle was wrong. She was sure she could go to sleep if she was just a bit closer, so she wriggled around until she was perfectly molded to Jake’s back. She finally had attained the ideal position for sleep, and she was so pleased about it that she allowed herself a sigh of satisfaction. “Ahhh,” she sighed softly, blowing a little wisp of warm air across his neck, into his ear.

“Ohhh!”

“Pardon?” she whispered, her voice husky with thoughts of sleep.

Jake’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Are you comfortable?”

Berry stretched slightly, pressing her breasts into his back. “Mmmm. Are you?”

There was a low groan, and she felt his muscles tense.

“I’m so tired,” she said. “I can hardly keep my eyes open. How about you?”

“I’m not tired at all. To tell you the truth, I’m wide-awake. In fact, I’m getting more awake by the minute.”

Berry’s finger carelessly stroked the center of Jake’s belly. “Maybe, you just need some relaxing.”

“Relax? With your breasts poking into my back and your finger stuck in my navel?” He gave a sigh of desperation and turned around to face her. “Listen, Berry, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Berry felt his arousal hard and full against her, cleverly sneaking its way under her nightshirt. She ran her hands across his smooth muscular back and kissed the pulse point that throbbed in his neck. She loved him. With all her heart and soul and every hormone she possessed. She loved the way he got excited about his crazy food inventions, and the way he accepted the ladies. He could bandage a scratch, inflate a sagging ego, make a helluva pepperoni pizza, and turn her into mush with a single glance.

“I have a few things to tell you, too,” Berry said. “The first thing I need to tell you is that I’m going to make mad, passionate love to you.”

Berry thought she might begin to purr. It was a wonderful luxury to awaken in the arms of your lover. Especially when your lover was about to become your husband and the father of your children. At least she assumed he was about to become her husband and the father of the children. Actually, he hadn’t mentioned marriage last night. And now that she thought about it, he hadn’t returned the ring. She pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart while he slept. Good thing she was secure and not the sort to panic. If she was the sort to panic, she might worry that he’d caught cold feet from her.

There was a squeal of brakes on the street and the angry slam of a car door. “And another thing,” a familiar voice shouted. “I don’t snore. You snore!”

Mrs. Fitz? Berry rolled out of bed and went to the window.

Mrs. Fitz looked up at her. “What the devil are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the house?”

“It’s a long story,” Berry said. “Why aren’t you on your way to the Grand Canyon?”

Mrs. Fitz flapped her arms at the departing camper. “You ever try to live in one of them things with an old man? It was enough to take seven years off my life. He drives like a maniac. He makes disgusting slurping noises at breakfast. And I can’t stand the way he blows his nose. He honks. You don’t have to honk when you blow your nose.” She fished in her purse and inserted her key in the door. “Boy, it’s good to be home. I can’t wait to make myself a cup of tea.”