Reggie's Girl Ch. 09

With a sigh, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

"So I just walked around feeling all of it, all at once. Until I just couldn't bear it anymore, and I thought, really thought about what I was feeling - and I realized that that hopeless anxious lonely feeling was totally wrong. I didn't think an overwhelming feeling could be wrong, but this was. The basis of it was just a total lie. So... I could dismiss it, just consign it to the dumpster. And I did."

Here, Jasmine hesitated. Then more softly but with conviction she spoke on, "Because you love me. You love me too much to get that mad at me for this specific reason. Sure, maybe it was arrogant of me to think I was saving you - but you'd forgive me. I felt sure that you would."

"And now you're vindicated," Reggie concluded gravely, and she laughed again that brand new laugh, the happy masturbation laugh. "Frankly, there's nothing to forgive. You were looking out for me. Of course I love you for it."

"How do you do that, though?" Jasmine asked him, now serious again. "Wear your heart on your sleeve like that? I don't even tell my mom those three little words, and I love her to death."

He raised his eyebrows, his puzzlement matching hers. "I don't know. I just do."

Slowly, Jasmine shook her head, looking at him as if he'd just lifted a Mack truck. "I'd have expected you to try to protect yourself more."

"Yeah, from what I've just heard, that's apparently your job now."

She covered her face with her hands and laughed again. This time he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He snatched her to him, making her laugh even louder. She was ridiculously ticklish, uttering delighted screams when his unerring fingers found the perfect spots between her ribs.

When she was completely breathless, she placed a hand on his chest and begged him to stop. Reggie accepted her surrender, claiming a hungry kiss as tribute.

She gave a sweet sigh when he lifted his head, refusing to open her eyes.

"I feel like you know," Jasmine murmured, caressing the nape of his neck. "You do. Don't you?"

"What?"

She opened her eyes. "You know I'm in love with you. You always knew. And that's why you had no problem saying it to me."

"You never really thought you were keeping me in suspense anyway," Reggie countered. "At the very least it was one more thing you tossed into your freezer, but you knew I knew."

She raised her eyebrows but didn't deny it. "And you could afford to be a gentleman and not rub my nose in it?"

"I could. Since you almost never wanted me to be a gentleman."

Jasmine smiled at that then snuggled closer until her hair was under his nose. He inhaled deeply. She always smelled so good. Like clean female skin, sun-warmed cotton, cherry shampoo - along with fresh perspiration and lady come. Half the pleasure of cuddling was the scent of her filling his head like a drug.

"Seriously, though, you might not like me being a gentleman," he muttered into her hair, "but I am, and I can't just fuck you and not take care of you at least in some way. You know I'm pretty open-handed with everyone else, love. It makes no sense to treat you of all people a little worse and then call that respect."

It appeared she was sniffing him at this time, and would not be interrupted.

"And please," Reggie scoffed, "I already know you're down to fuck without me spending a dime. Believe you me, there's never been any confusion on that score."

She finished running her nose along his jawline and Adam's apple before she answered. "I'd like to get counseling," she murmured. "You remember when you offered to get me into trea-"

"I got two lists of highly-recommended professionals on my phone. You prefer a man or a woman?"

Jasmine gave a helpless little laugh. "I think I'd like a woman."

"I'll make it so."

"I've also taken up journaling now, and meditation. They say it helps and I think I believe it now." She got real quiet for a minute. "I don't want to punish my body anymore."

Reggie saw right away the opening to make some suggestive remark. He sighed in utter peace and let it pass.

She was learning to take his help. Learning she didn't need it to orgasm. It was a stunningly good beginning, and she had got there all by herself. He felt pretty good about that, and enormously proud of her.

As a matter of fact, he was the one in need of her help right now. He hadn't needed a message to know Cricket's family wanted to meet with him. But now that he knew Silvia had sent Jasmine to actually tell him this, it was obvious he would have to see her immediately. It didn't matter that he wasn't ready.

He had Jasmine, and that wasn't nothing - in this instance, she was his entire support system. He just might pull through with her beside him.

* * *

"Thank you for coming with me," Reggie murmured in her ear. Jasmine looked up from her near-empty plate with an expression of fond rebuke.

What else had he expected? Of course she had accompanied him here, though they had come fully expecting the rage and accusations of a grieving mother. That their expectations had been beautifully wrong was a bonus.

Silvia Reyes had decided to host them at the old-fashioned restaurant she and her late husband had started together. The décor was very homespun, with plants hanging in baskets and posters of soccer legends (all Cricket's heroes) on the wall.

It seemed the whole family was gathered together for an impromptu family dinner; multiple conversations carried on at once in more than one language with no resulting confusion. This was no trendy restaurant uptown, with its urbane polish and quiet hum of conversation.

But, by now unsurprisingly, Reggie was just as at home here as in that other upscale environment.

Even when it became clear there would be no tears and recriminations, Reggie kept holding on to her hand. Even upon arrival, while Silvia had held his face in her hands as they conversed in Spanish, Jasmine couldn't give them much privacy as he squeezed her fingers as if deriving strength from them.

And now, after the worry, uncertainty and the rousing welcome, he was gazing at her as if she'd rendered some incredibly heroic deed in his service.

Teasingly but also not, she murmured just above the general clamor, "Have I won your favor, my king?"

Reggie ran a lazy knuckle down her jaw. "Looks like I'll have to be more obvious with it," he mused, then placed his mouth on hers in a sweet, soft kiss.

There was a lingering touch of melancholy throughout the meal, but the laughter was frequent and real, and the prayers before and after heartfelt. Cricket's cousin Hector, a Jesuit due to return to his religious community in Argentina the following day, led both times in slightly accented English. He was a reserved man, but friendly and attentive in conversation.

And when he lifted his head from his prayer the second time, he smiled and looked straight at Jasmine. Not Reggie.

If she had expected a certain priestly disapproval with her, an unwed woman under Reggie's roof, she was to be greatly surprised. Hector asked to have a word in private. They stepped out of the restaurant while Reggie made his fond, emotional farewells.

"You can relax, Jasmine," Hector told her in wry tones. "I have no intention of scolding you."

Jasmine laughed, a little nervously despite his words. He chuckled.

"If you recall, Our Lord saved his harshest words for the menfolk. As I am called to follow in his footsteps..." he shrugged, "you may consider me harmless."

"Should I worry for Reggie?" It was a joke, but Hector leapt on her comment with obvious approval.

"I have a feeling you have a habit of doing so, meddling priests or not," he replied. "We've been worried for him, too. All those weeks of silence... Cricket would have hated for a rift to occur."

Hector considered the first stars in the clear evening sky with a deep breath. "As you know, Reggie went against his own father getting Cricket free of that life. He was grateful, and we've also never forgotten it. That's why I believe my cousin had a hand in bringing us together at this time."

He lowered his gaze to hers with a pointed look. "My cousin," he smiled at her again, "and of course, you."

Hector proffered his hand, a simple gesture that somehow conveyed a great deal of respect. And all she could do was accept it. He would never know that her part in this was merely to delay it all.

"Thank you, Miss Jasmine." He bowed his head slightly then turned to go back in just as his mother was coming out to the pavement with Reggie.

"Jasmine!" Silvia Reyes called in her carrying voice. She patted Reggie's back as she spoke. "Thank you very, very much for returning him to us. Now I return him to you."

Laughing in her chest, she stepped forward and caught her hands in hers, just like that day outside the church. Only now, there was no harried energy, no raw pain driving her. Her eyes were sad but at peace.

"As I was telling him before," Mrs. Reyes said, lowering her voice as if in confidence, "I forgave Tony for getting into that life. And here this one was," she threw a hand in Reggie's direction, "thinking I wouldn't forgive him for getting Tony out of it! For going out of his way to fix his father's mistakes!"

Her dark eyes narrowed. "Can you imagine the kind of world we'd be living in if good people just tried to repair what their not-so-good parents broke? If everybody followed your man example?"

"Yes. Oh, it would be a better world for sure," Jasmine said when it became clear her response was required.

"It would! It'd be a much better world! And yet Reggie was repenting his actions! No!"

Silvia Reyes turned her head and gave Reggie a severe look. "I always said I didn't raise no thug. I knew that God would bring my boy back to me. Many mothers like me pray to Saint Monica everyday, and they fast and do penance and still don't get this grace."

Her many bracelets clashed on her wrist as she wagged her finger at him. "But I did, through you. Getting him off the block, that was you. So no more sending X with bundles of money. And no more sending this girl with the nice words. You come by, here or our home, any time, always!"

To Jasmine's amazement, when she looked up Reggie's eyes were shining with unshed tears. He nodded once and the movement caused them to spill to his cheeks. He made no attempt to wipe them away.

Now Silvia was crying too, but she doggedly went on, "I already lost one son. I will not lose another one because of some twisted-up guilt - and that's final!"

Abruptly she released Jasmine's hands and strode back in with a final command, "Jasmine, dry your man eyes!"

But Jasmine was already in his arms, holding him to her with a fierceness she had never felt before. "I love you," she hissed. "I love you so, so much."

His breath catching in his throat, he just held her even tighter as his tears spilled into her hair.

* * *

Bailey bit her lip, clearly trying to hold in her excitement. Jasmine gave her a chiding look. "Bailey, I'm not going to tell you again."

Bailey lifted her hands and finally sat down on the opposite couch in Reggie's living room. She'd been pacing in barely contained excitement ever since she'd arrived.

"I know, I know," she said, "I should enjoy my win. I do, Jasmine, trust me I'm enjoying the shit out of it. But I feel for you, too. Angry landlord letters... probably aren't fun."

"They're not," Jasmine agreed briefly. "But that's not what you're here to talk about."

"But it is kinda dumb though," Bailey said thoughtfully, "Paying rent over there when you're living over here. If it were me-"

"What's your new job like? Is it anything like TV? Do you get your own paralegal office?"

"Ugh, no and hell no!" Bailey proceeded to describe her first impressions of the job she'd just landed. Jasmine smiled and tried her best to be supportive.

But she couldn't help obsessing over the fact that she herself was feeling more and more unmoored.

The little daily newspaper where she submitted photography was now a weekly; there had been a wave of layoffs and a lot of people including Amanda, her photo editor, were now out of a job. It was scary seeing people much more qualified and experienced stuck in the same boat as herself.

Then there was the angry landlord letter Bailey had mentioned. But she was trying her best not to think about that.

She really should be happy, Jasmine told herself. Things were about to go back to normal now that Cricket's murderers had been arrested. Everyone was breathing a sigh of relief.

Except maybe Xavier.

He literally wasn't breathing too great after suffering broken ribs and a punctured lung at their hands, but even he was pretty happy right now. He couldn't stop bragging how he'd shot right back, clipping Fabien near the groin.

He'd apparently hit an artery in the inner thigh and Fabien had quickly lost consciousness and almost bled to death on the sidewalk. His accomplices, Tariq and Darrell had fled the scene and left him, only to get caught hours later trying to board a Greyhound to DC.

The three of them were pariahs now, objects of public ridicule - in some quarters, outright hatred. Closer to home, Reggie's most resentful family members seemed to have finally retreated into hateful thoughts from a comfortable distance. It was safe to say no one was left who had murderous intentions towards him and/or his protégés.

This was all fantastic news. She should be glad. She was!

And now her pal had great news of her own to celebrate. Surely life was good, very good. Her own unease was probably just an old bad habit.

Reggie had called that afternoon to tell her he'd be going to see Xavier in hospital: he'd sounded equally worried and furious. Given Xavier's injuries were painful but not fatal, she suspected something else was going on there that he would fill her in on later.

As always Bailey's demi-semi-crush on Reggie was entertaining to watch. When at last Reggie arrived in the evening, clearly exhausted, he still couldn't get off his feet for the minutes it took Bailey to hug him and update him on her good news.

"How is Xavier?" Jasmine asked when Reggie hugged her.

"Not in trouble with the law," he returned drily. "My worry was an illegal firearms charge. I tried drilling it into these boys' heads that you couldn't mess with guns - so X went and got a goddamn license for his!"

"What? Xavier applied for a gun license and they gave him one?!"

"Hey, don't ask me how he managed it. All I know is the motherfucker was smug as all hell about it. As for his injuries, he seems to be recovering better than expected."

"Thank God," Jasmine breathed.

"Oh yeah. Thank God," Reggie agreed fervently then planted a sound kiss on her forehead. "I'm heading upstairs for a shower. Bailey, congrats on your good news. I'll just get out of y'all girls' way."

"And in case she doesn't tell you, Reggie, Jasmine just got a scary landlord letter."

Reggie had begun to walk to the stairs but now halted then turned around.

"She did?" he asked Bailey with a slight frown even as she seemed to be biting her lip to prevent another rapidfire reveal. She nodded, eyes big and earnest.

Reggie's gaze flicked to Jasmine. "I see."

"Oh, come on! I would have told him eventually," Jasmine protested. Maybe it was that "eventually" that ruined it, but neither of them even pretended to believe her.

"Good looking out, Bay." He nodded to her in grim gratitude.

"Always great to see you, Reggie. And Jasmine. And would you look at the time, I gotta get going!"

Jasmine sighed in the silence after Bailey had gone. But it was no good skulking around downstairs. Reggie would not be asleep for hours yet and she wasn't really inclined to keep her distance from him. Even if he had some awkward questions for her at present.

She found him in his bedroom. The place smelled of steam, soap and Reggie's skin. Wearing his favorite cashmere sweats and nothing else, he paced back and forth, frowning at a sheet of paper he held in his hands. He paused and looked up over his reading glasses when she knocked, his regard unsmiling.

"I would have told you," Jasmine repeated, the words sounding unconvincing to her own ears.

"Girl, even Bailey knows that's bullshit."

"No, she doesn't, she just sort of malfunctions around you sometimes."

Jasmine strolled inside, looped her arms around his waist and as he lowered the paper to his side. "Not that I blame her," she murmured in a sultry voice. "You're looking super edible today, boyfriend."

He whipped off his glasses and glared at her. But his voice was quiet, controlled. "Let's talk about you paying rent on a place you moved out of."

"I was only staying with you because we agreed I might be in danger. I'm not anymore."

"Yeah, you weren't 'only staying' with me either, not anymore. You moved out of the guestroom weeks ago. You've been sleeping in the master ever since."

Jasmine groaned. "Because I'm sleeping with the master of the house! And I still will be, of course. But..."

She bit her lip but Reggie wasn't in a patient mood. "But?"

"Reggie, be fair, we hadn't talked about this."

"We're talking about it now."

She blinked up at him, her arms falling away from him. "About me," she asked slowly, "breaking my lease and moving in with you? Being your official live-in girlfriend?"

Reggie sighed and let the matter drop without another word. "How much is it?"

"What?"

"Your landlord's demanding back rent, right?" he asked impatiently. "I'ma need the full amount, bank details-"

"No!" Jasmine exclaimed. "No, you don't need any of that."

He stared at her. She threw up her hands, coming to a spur-of-the-moment decision. "Because... We are talking about it now. Me becoming your live-in girlfriend. Right?"

He was dumbstruck for a heartbeat before he blurted in low, fervent tones, "I'll have Tiny go grab your stuff right now."

"I mean, this isn't crazy, right?" She gave him a panicky smile. "I've been here for weeks? We get along reasonably well-"

"Reasonably-" Reggie stopped himself, cleared his throat. But the look in his eyes discouraged her from ever repeating that particular phrasing. "We 'get along' quite nicely, I'd say. Sure."

Jasmine gave him an apologetic look. "I've never done anything like this before."

His expression softened. "Of course not. Incidentally, I've never had a live-in girlfriend either."

"Never?"

He gave a casual shrug. "Really. I've never lived with a woman who wasn't my wife." There was a mellifluous lilt in his voice.

"In that case," she returned lightly, "I'm happy to be your first."

Reggie pivoted on his heel and walked to his desk. His gaze returned to his spreadsheet but she suspected the numbers no longer held his attention.

"Seems we've found something else to celebrate," he said, his back to her.

"It seems so," Jasmine agreed in such sedate tones he threw her a sardonic look.

"So? How do you feel about French cuisine?"

"Like the literal snails on my plate might think they're better than me, which is genius. Evil genius, but you gotta hand it to 'em, like, Italian cuisine could never."

Reggie snorted. "I was thinking more along the lines of blackcurrant pheasant, fluffy soufflés and apple tart. And a bottle of Dom of course. So far from evil it was named for a literal monk. So how about it?"

"Sure, as long as you don't leave me alone with it all."

"Excellent! I've been dying to show you this little place I love, on rue de la Villette where they-"

"Wait, wait, you're not..." Jasmine interrupted then laughed at herself a little because of course she was wrong. "You're not talking about Paris. Are you?"