I've decided to throw 2 atcha today, cuz the Jonah one is wicked short and it doesn't really feel like anything but a transition to the next one.
Now if you aren't familiar with Mr. Jonah Delaney's dirty little secret I strongly encourage you to go back and read The Morning After all 4 parts, and maybe That Saturday Night & prolly Poker Night (big reveal).
Or simply forge ahead at your own peril and let yourself wonder: "What the Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck?" Heeheehee.
And if you want just a dash more of adorable Mr. Bennett Sinclair, you can catch him in Poker Night: Ben Sinclair or in the post from a few days ago.
Bon Apetit, this dinner is heatin' up!
(asterisks separate the vignettes)
***************
Jonah knew he shouldn’t feel guilty for being caught kissing his wife. But he did. He felt like a snake. She had to know, had to understand that he was married, that he loved her mother, that he needed to keep things status-quo with her… His reasoning made him feel slimy.
He reached for the scotch. He considered it for a very long moment. He wanted something to calm his nerves, but he remembered the last poker night and put the scotch back down slowly. He needed to be on his guard. What if he said something, or what if he did something that gave him away? He stared at the bottle. Maybe just one. And he’d nurse it. Yes. Just one for the evening and he’d make it last.
Carefully he poured three fingers and replaced the bottle to its ranks among the other fine bottles of liquor. He stood at the sideboard and let his mind wander back to that poker night. How he’d promised to see her before he went to bed. But he’d gotten so drunk that by the time all the guests had left and Caleb had crashed on the couch, Nolan had had to help him upstairs and into bed.
He hadn’t been in to see her. And she hadn’t crept in to his room either. He’d spent much of the night struggling to hold himself awake. He’d locked the bedroom door after Nolan had left. And he’d been afraid. He hoped he’d had enough liquor to render him unable to perform if she did come for him. He thought about suicide. A lot. He pondered it daily since that awful morning a little over two weeks ago.
And he’d risen around dawn, made a light breakfast for himself and his very hung-over baby brother and Viola had had half a cantaloupe. And then, to his enormous relief, she’d gone to the mall with friends. He’d dealt with Grey, refused him the money, and seemed to hold his breath until his wife and daughters came home from their resort trip.
He’d been so relieved to see his wife, and so guilty. He almost wasn’t sure how to conduct himself around her. He’d betrayed her and he wanted to confess everything, he’d never lied to his wife, not about anything. But she’d reached up and kissed him on his cheek and whispered ‘I missed you so much!’ and he’d folded her up in his arms, buried his face in her neck and held onto her the way a drowning man clings to his life-raft.
And every day since he’d tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. Tried to convince himself that he’d dreamt it or imagined it or that there’d been some big misunderstanding. But as much as his mind tried to sterilize the events of that weekend, as much as he was able to downplay it and bury it and compartmentalize that horrible event in his mind, his body refused to buy-into the illusion.
His body knew what had passed between himself and Viola and could not be persuaded to participate in the wholesome charade. Because being drugged was one thing, maybe he’d eventually be able to come to terms with how he’d behaved while under the influence of whatever she’d used on him, but how he’d reacted after that was unforgivable. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for kissing her in the kitchen.
Thinking about it now made his head throb and he needed to sit down. To make things worse, he hadn’t been able to respond to Velvet the way a husband should. She hadn’t noticed yet. But she was bound to. He loved her, but his guilt over his infidelity was putting a serious damper on his libido… with her. It seemed only to ignite his desire for Viola.
Fuck.
Thank Christ Grey’d up and married that little Catholic girl. The sudden elopement had distracted Velvet so thoroughly that he had been able to subsist without her asking too many concerned questions, without her prying too far into why he was working late or always tired or seemed overly strained.
Sitting in his chair Jonah removed his glasses and dragged a hand over his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and entertained the notion of what his son would do to him if he ever found out. He laughed shortly; a sick, heavy sound. Grey would murder him. Jonah believed it. For hurting his mother and sister, Grey would beat him to a bloody pulp and then put him out of his misery by ending his life. He almost wished he had the balls to confess.
The doorbell sounded and Jonah pulled his glasses back up to his face. He took another sip of scotch. Then he stood and crossed toward the front door, scotch in hand, a pleasant smile pasted on, a calm and gentle demeanor draped over the tortured, roiling misery he was living.
“I’ll get it!” He called cheerily to the rest of the house.
***************
Ben Sinclair hitched a warm smile into place and squeezed his fiancee’s hand in his as the door to the Delaney house opened inward to reveal a very chipper Jonah. Awesome. Ben hadn’t seen Jonah since the night of that disastrous poker game a couple of weeks back and wasn’t sure he was really ready to see the man again.
“Hello!” Enthused his future father-in-law. He stepped aside to allow the couple to enter and closed the door before kissing Avalon on the cheek and extending his hand for Ben to shake in greeting.
“Mr. Delaney.” Ben said warmly.
“Hi Dad.” Avalon said pleasantly enough, though Ben was able to detect the peevish resentment behind it. She didn’t want to be here.
“Can I take your coats?”
Ben quickly moved to assist Avalon out of her winter coat and caught Jonah’s almost wistful smile as he hung back, allowed his daughter’s fiancée to do the job he’d done for the girl’s entire life. When she’d shrugged out of it she crossed to the hall mirror and tucked a few stray wisps into place. Ben handed her coat to Jonah and gracefully removed his own, and with a friendly nod and smile he thanked the man for taking their coats.
“Have the newly-weds arrived yet?” Asked Avalon, and Ben looked sideways at Jonah, trying to determine if her father could detect the irritation and boredom under her smoothly honeyed tones.
Jonah paused in the act of working a sleek wooden hanger into Avalon’s coat, apparently too surprised with her comment to note the sour undertones contained within it. Ben opened his eyes a little and cocked his head at his fiancée. It was going to be a very long evening if she insisted on walking in armed and armored for a conflict.
She took-in his warning expression and her shoulders lifted in the tiniest of shrugs. He sighed. He loved her, he really did, but she could be more than a challenge sometimes.
“How did you know about that young lady?” Jonah asked, somewhere between suspicion and amusement. He hung Ava’s coat carefully and began wrapping Ben’s over a hanger.
“Mum blew it.” She replied casually enough.
Jonah chuckled warmly. “She just spilled the secret to Vi a few minutes ago too. She’s hopeless.”
Ben thought about relaying the information that the whole town was buzzing with the news, but refrained. Between Velvet’s inability to contain her happy news and Phelan Everett’s need to feel important—and what feeling is more heady than having the juiciest gossip in town—Cedar Falls already knew plenty about Grey Delaney’s surprising fall from bachelorhood. The rumors ranged from perfectly mundane-- such as he’d fallen in love or at the very least he’d knocked her up; to the outlandish: that she was an heiress of a coffee bean fortune in South America or that he’d done it to help her avoid deportation or, stranger still, she’d been a mail order bride.
Besides being inherently racist and bigoted, the last three were particularly ridiculous since Maggie Ramirez was American born, and had been raised in Cedar Falls since childhood. But, Ben supposed, facts were inconveniences easily abandoned in the face of scintillating gossip.
“Well, and I told the twins.” Avalon answered with a sweet smile but a hard glint in her eyes.
Jonah Looked to the heavens and shook his head, tisking lightly. “Like mother like daughter.” He teased warmly, clicking the closet door into place, and Ben felt his spine stiffen. Good Lord. Jonah was a good father and a nice man, but he really could be clueless when it came to Avalon. His eyes flicked to her face in time to catch the flare of something wild flash in her eyes and he held his hand out to her before she could say anything she’d regret.
“You wanted to look for something in the den while you were here, remember?” He asked her helpfully. Ben watched her chest lift with a huge inhalation and then deflate, and in the time it took her to breathe deeply and let it out she’d managed to compose her features and quell whatever retort she’d so desperately wanted to hurl at her mild-mannered father.
She took his hand and squeezed it so hard he winced despite himself. “If we have time?” He directed his query at Jonah.
“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, they’ll be here at six-thirty.” He said, looking a little distant and retrieving his scotch glass from where he’d set it on the entryway table while hanging their coats.
“More time than that, I’d guess—“ Avalon said, a little smugly, “Grey’s always late for everything.”
Jonah finished a sip and smiled. “He shouldn’t manage to be too late—He hasn’t got far to travel.”
Avalon’s hand spasmed in his and Ben ran his thumb over the silken back of her hand comfortingly. “Oh?” Was all she managed.
“They’re staying in the guest house until they can get on their feet and find a home of their own.” He explained.
Ben smiled but inside he begged Jonah to shut the hell up and let him bring his fiancée into the den before she flipped out. They hadn’t been there ten minutes yet and already the man had compared her to her mother and casually tossed out the fact that the Guest House, the cottage that Avalon had asked to move into with Ben, was now occupied by her thunder-stealing sibling and his unknown new bride.
“You said you needed it for a project?” Ben prodded as gently commanding as he could manage.
“Grey gets the guest house?” She asked before she could help herself.
“Ava, listen,” Jonah began patiently, and he glanced at Ben, feeling, Ben didn’t doubt, awkward about his reasoning behind his kind--but firm--refusal of her request the previous year.
“Because they’re married, right? Husband and wife? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why?” She had that tone and Ben closed his eyes.
“Yes.” Replied Jonah simply and he sat upon the entryway table.
Avalon’s smile was brittle and her eyes were practically maniacal. “If I’d known it was alright to just rush off to city hall without bothering to tell anyone or even know the person all that well, maybe Ben and I would have ‘done the right thing’ two years ago.” She said hotly.
Jonah’s lips pursed. “Sweetheart—“
“But no, Ben and I decide to do it right, take our time, have the big wedding and even though you know we’re in love and committed to one another and even though you know Ben and trust him and know he’s done everything right every step of the way, even asked you for permission to ask me to marry him, despite all that we can’t live together in the guesthouse, but Grey and this total goddamn stranger get to?”
The foyer was enveloped in a ringing silence.
“Av?” Ben asked softly, he didn’t really know what to say, just wanted to make sure she was still somewhat tethered to the here-and-now. He’d never heard her speak like that to her father. To her mother, yes, but to her dad? Ben felt an uncomfortable tickle on his nape and his palm was sweating where his hand met hers.
“Avalon Grace.” Jonah said in a calm, cold tone.
She huffed and made to pull her hand out of Ben’s but he held on tight. He wasn’t about to let Jonah or anyone else put a wedge between the two of them this evening. The car ride over had been a nightmare and now that they were once more on the same team he intended to keep it that way.
“As I told you when you asked; You and Mr. Sinclair may do as you choose where that matter is concerned, but it is unfair of you to ask a father to condone it, under his own roof.”
Oh Jesus. Even more awesome. Ben felt the heat in his cheeks and he wished for once he’d decided to skip out on doing the family obligation, wished he’d let Avalon talk him into playing hookie from this damned dinner. Ben knew Jonah had used the ‘Mr. Sinclair’ to anesthetize it for himself, but it only served to remind Ben that Jonah had been his fucking sixth grade history teacher, and his furious blush spread like wildfire over his entire body.
“Such bullshit.” Avalon hissed, and Ben had the absurd thought that she was going to get detention for speaking that way in front of Mr. Delaney. He shook his head and fixed his eyes on the stained glass in the arch window above the enormous front door. This wasn’t happening. He focused on counting the amber sections.
“What has gotten into you young lady?” Jonah demanded, keeping his voice almost maddeningly mild and controlled.
“Mum gives Grey everything!” She spat out and Ben lost count of the amber pieces when he rolled his eyes. He’d count the crimson ones then.
“We love all our children equally—“
“And you? You give Viola whatever the fuck she wants!” Her voice rose in pitch and she tugged again at Ben’s hand but her didn’t let her slip free. She spun away from her father and tapped her foot on the smooth stone floor and fixed her fiancée with a withering stare. She was furious that he wouldn’t let go.
“Enough.”
Ben flinched at the very sudden ferocity in Jonah’s voice. Where the hell had that come from? He was so startled by it that he made the mistake of looking at the man to make sure it was still Jonah. Ben swallowed even as he felt his mouth drying up. Jonah Delaney looked positively dangerous. What had just a moment before been a mini tantrum and a small family tiff had quite suddenly become something else. What, exactly, Ben couldn’t be sure, but the wind had most definitely shifted.
Avalon, however, was too wrapped up in her own righteous indignation to feel the change in the air and she persisted recklessly. Without looking at him she pressed: “I swear to God if she asked you tomorrow if she could move in there with some boy you’d nod and say ‘anything you want love’!”
Jonah rose to his feet swiftly and Ben instinctively pulled Avalon to him in the same breath. She resisted a little and he felt her looking at him, wanting to know what in hell he thought he was doing, but he kept his eyes on her father, his face asking the same thing of Jonah. What the hell are you doing Mr. Delaney?
Jonah’s eyes behind his professorial-looking glasses were unreadable, but his expression was dark and distinctly violent. His body was tensed to strike out, and Ben was forced to wonder what the man might have done to his daughter had Ben not acted so quickly. Jonah’s eyes flicked onto Ben’s and for a moment Ben was sure the man was going to throw a punch, or chuck his scotch glass at his head or something.
And then, as suddenly as it had come on, the wrath and the danger was gone. His face melted from stony and hard into soft and sad.
“Let me go.” Avalon hissed at Ben, pushing against his chest. She hadn’t seen it. Any of it. Hadn’t been aware of her father’s momentary transformation. Ben wondered if maybe she got her tendency toward fits of rage from her father. He would never, in a million years, have ever guessed such a thing before this evening, and he’d known this family all his life.
“I’m going to see if Velvet needs a hand.” Jonah said dully, and, taking his scotch with him, he departed the foyer in the direction of the dining room.
“Fuck this.” Avalon growled when Jonah had gone and Ben finally let her out of his grasp. She strode to the hall closed and wrenched it open.
Ben followed and put his hand on the door before she’d managed to swing it wide enough to access the coats.
“Don’t Ben, not right now, don’t fucking try to stop me.” She said in a dangerous tone of voice that made his skin prickle.
“Ava, please, don’t do something you’ll regret.” He said in her ear.
“I can’t stay now.” She said, and her pitch rose to something of a whine. “I can’t believe I said those things!” She said her hands flew to her face and she buried her wild blush in her fingers.
Exhaling fully Ben let go of the door and wrapped her up, pulling her against him. He kissed her dark, silken hair and breathed in the soft, clean scent of her. Whatever her shampoo was. He loved it. He always had. He hoped she never changed it. It reminded him of his mother’s summer garden, in part, sweet and warm and peaceful, and there was something crisp too, fresh and eye-opening like a mint or something.
“It’s all right.” He murmured and he felt her shaking her head adamantly, mutely arguing that it was not all right at all. “No, really, it is.” He asserted and ran his palm up and down the length of her back. “People argue, it isn’t the end of the world.”
She pulled back from the embrace a bit and looked up into his eyes. “But—“
“Shhhhh.” He cut her off before she could work up a head of steam. “It doesn’t matter.” He told her, knowing that she was likely about to lament that she’d never spoken that way to her father. “You’re entitled to your feelings Av, and I’m glad you let him know.” He smiled just a bit, let his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I promise it will blow over—but only if we stay, and go in there, and have a perfectly friendly dinner.”
Her brows wrinkled and her lips pulled together in a glowering pout.
“I’m serious Avalon—If we leave now it will be so much worse.”
She huffed.
“Besides, I can’t afford the kind of wedding you want, not on my own, so let’s try to stay on everyone’s good side, huh?”
She glared at him for a minute and he opened his eyes wide, then wider, then wider still until she laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “Stop making me smile when I want to be a bitch.” She reprimanded him and he chuckled. “I swore.” She said, mortified.
“I know.” He said, sounding impressed and eliciting a weak chuckle from her.
He held her for a full minute before mustering the courage to let her go and move toward the dining room. “C’mon. You and me.” He said with a grin.
She went back to the hall mirror to fix the hair she’d crumpled against him while he’d held her. She was gorgeous. He could look at her all day. He let his eyes trail from her reflection in the mirror down her figure, over every plane and gentle curve and back up. He caught her eyes in the glass and she was smiling a naughty smile. “Mr. Sinclair, you checkin’ me out?”
He felt his smile stretch his face until it ached. “Damn straight.” He told her with mock bravado.
“Right under my father’s roof?” She said in an exaggerated gasp.
He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quell the grin. “Let’s go, you wicked woman.” He held his hand out once more. He wasn’t going to let her try to talk him into fucking her in this house; They must have danced that particular dance two dozen times or more since they’d started dating. “The sooner we get this over with the sooner I can take you back to my place.” He said in a sexy undertone and a genuine smile broke over her expression.
She crossed the foyer and slipped her hand into his waiting one and allowed him to pull her to his side for a kiss.
“Know what?” He said, his lips still pressed against hers.
“What?” she breathed.
“I’m kinda glad we didn’t move into the guest house.”
He felt her tense up a little. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” She asked, tilting her head away from his and raising a skeptical brow.
“Because I’d never be able to look your father in the face again, after he heard you screaming in ecstasy in my bed—“
Her jaw fell open and she laughed with a mix of shock and appreciation.
“I’m not that loud—“ She protested with a pretty pout.
“Are you kidding?! I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t heard you all the way from my apartment!” He teased her and placed a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose.
She swatted his chest playfully, and he loved the way the crimson of her flush made her violet eyes more vivid; made them seem to sparkle and dance. “Well then let’s hurry up and get this overwith so you can take me home and make me scream.” She said in a very businesslike manner that made him laugh out loud.
“I’m yours to command.” He told her and allowed her to lead him toward the dining room, taking one last appreciative gaze at her ass before he had to behave himself.
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