Jack wakes up to see a pair of soft blue eyes watching him. She smiles upon seeing him wake and roll over to face the ceiling. The interior of the house annoyed Jack in many ways, but the slanted cedar slabs cut by two long skylights was not one of them.

"Morning," says Marian beside him.

"Overcast," Jack replies.

"It was raining earlier," Marian says. "I enjoyed watching the water droplets fall down. They made little rivers along the glass."

"I am glad we fixed those first,” he says, indicating the skylights, “before we moved in, so the drops didn't fall on your face."

"Good call, Jack."

He can sense her eyes on him again, though he continues looking up.

"How long were you awake?" Jack asks. "What is the time even?"

"Pacific time, I am not sure. My body is still waking up at 06:00 Mountain Time, preparing for a commute I no longer have to do," Marian says. "Also, since I still have video phone meetings work and—Lacey is Mountain Time still."

“I don’t know why you didn’t quit. I would have,” Jack says; he rolls over onto his side facing her.

“You did quit. Even though I’m the one who got the money,” Marian says.

She sits up, pulling the sheet with her. She wore nothing to sleep last night. She rarely did, and Jack loved that about her.

“Hey, you had a dream. Who was I to stop you?”

He watches her climb out of bed letting the sheets fall off her naked radiant body. He looks at her delicate perfect peaches with such soft nipples, more pink than brown. His eyes drift down to the patch of curly brown hair at eye-level with the bed. A blanket is thrown over his head. The linen smells like sex still; he pulls it off his head. Marian walks toward the dresser.

“How is Lacey, by the way?”

“Do you really want to know, are you just asking to be polite?” Marian asks.

She opens up the drawers and sifts through them. Her ass looks so perfect with her torso bent forward.

“You know that you’re spending the entire day inside. No one is going to notice if you walk around your house wearing nothing. That was what you did when we lived in Denver, and we did have neighbors there.”

“You will notice,” Marian says before she slides a black slip over her head. “You already noticed,” she adds with a nod directed at his pelvis.

Jack pulls the sheets on top of his growing erection. “Oh yeah, so why don’t you do something about it?”

She returns to the bed climbing onto it, with her hands like a stalking feline predator. “You know how much I want to.” The slip does little to hide her, except perhaps to gather her cleavage more centered so he could look down the V as she climbs toward him.

“So do it,” he whispers softly.

She leans further forward and kisses his cheek. Then she whispers words into his ear that he really doesn’t want to hear. “Today is your rest day. We have to wait.”

Jack sighs heavily. “You’re killing me, woman!”

“I know,” she says, following the words with a kiss on the mouth. Soft and welcoming, but devoid of tongue.

“So I can’t even take care of this?” Jack gestures at his morning wood.

“No. You have to save it for tomorrow.” She pulls away from him, back off the bed.

He mockingly screams in indignation. He throws his hands up in the air theatrically and screams, “Stella!”

Marian giggles. “I still haven’t seen it.”

“We’re fixing that,” Jack says.

He turns himself out of the bed, trying to distract himself from the quivering stiff penis that hangs at an arched angle from himself. “As soon as I find my projector in the boxes.” He throws on his own boxer shorts to put another layer between himself and the forbidden fruit of Marian that he so wants.

“I don’t see why I can’t watch it on the computer like everything else,” Marian says.

“No-no-no. This is quality cinema that you need an education in,” Jack says.

“Like Barbarella?” Marian asks. She throws on another layer: a light purple sundress with crisp flat lines that hides Jack’s favorite parts. “That was a strange one.”

“That was the only movie your girl Lacey had any interest in, that Jesse could compromise on.”

Marian stands silent for a little as Jack tugs on some loose pants.

“She’s alright,” Marian finally says, “Lonely, and misses me. She understands though. Jesse?”

Jack shakes his head.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t be.”

He sighs heavily. When Marian and Jack started, they were only secondary relationships. It was not lost on Jack that he had similar facial features to Marian’s original primary romantic partner. If Lacey had the physical capability to impregnate Marian and if Jessie wasn’t so temperamental, then Jack wouldn’t be the one here in Washington.

“Jesse’s still mad from that fight in Buenos Aires. It was over long before you suggested I come help your garden of Eden.”

Marian’s concerned face appears. “Maybe Lacey should check up.”

“Jesse doesn’t like women. You know that.”

“Yes. That I did know.” Marian throws her honey-blond hair over her shoulders. “Not sure I’ve ever had a rejection quite that harsh.”

Jack was not sorry he missed that interaction. Both Marian and Jesse tended to get what they wanted. Even his calm Marian could get theatrical with the right buttons pushed. Pushing the right buttons was what Jesse was best at.

She gives a little shudder. “But I meant as a friend. They were always friendly.”

He pads around the bed with his bare feet touching the wood floor. Then his toes step onto the flat rectangular rug Marian had insisted on.

“I like women though.” Stepping within arms-length, he pulls her into his arms. His right arm reaches under her hair to the back of her neck.

She smiles up at him pleasantly. Then her mouth opens and she bites her lower lip softly.

“I think you need to let me go,” she whispers.

Despite her protestation, her blue eyes devour his own desire.

Jack leans down to kiss the woman he loves. This time his tongue invades her mouth and she swirls her own around it. Not wanting to pull up for air, he eventually feels her hands tugging back on the curly black hair above his neck.

“I should feed you,” Marian sys. “And you should go throw a tarp over what’s left of the dirt pile.”

“Why don’t I throw you on that dirt pile and eat you out on top of the mud.” His joke incites a sharp intake of breath from Marian. She might actually go for that idea.

“Or—” Marian’s tone yanks Jack back to reality. “You can cook breakfast, and I can go cover the dirt and bonfire materials with a tarp before they completely soak through.”

“As you wish,” Jack replies, kissing Marian on the head.

“Which one?” Marian’s lilac dress is only a thin linen.

“You cook. You’re the one who is trying to get us to eat healthy.”

“I confess, I am,” Marian says.

Jack loosens his grip on her body and backs away. “You know, when you first broached the idea that you wanted me to give you a child, I thought it would involve more sex, not less.”

“We tried that, remember?”

Jack says, “Yeah, but we weren’t in this idyllic environment. You were stressed from work. I was at work welding 30 floors up in the air.

–

Marian disappears through the maple framed doorway down the stairs to the rest of the house. Jack tugs up his pants reluctantly and follows. The wooden stairs are old and a little pitched so Jack’s ankle flexes a little with each step on the uneven, but polished boards. It was a future project that he was not looking forward to. When he hit the main floor, wood was replaced with a flat carpet patterned with squares within squares with raised textures that he felt against his bare feet. They were grey, black, and ugly, but the purchase wasn’t ever about the house. It was all about the land for Marian. It was worth her money and his sweat to make it into a home.

Sounds of metal upon metal drift from the kitchen already. There is a wide opening, about four feet, between the living room and the warm wooded cabinetry, but Marian isn’t visible from this angle. The sound of sizzling something starts within, but Jack strides across the box laden/room to the sliding glass door to outside.

The roof over the back patio does little to protect Jack from the many microscopic droplets that drift in the wind. The air isn’t driving the water sideways; rather it feels like walking into a cloud right after it decides to dissolve into rain. His shirtless torso is exposed directly to the elements. His feet touch upon the mud trail left from their exploits with the hose yesterday. His nipples harden in the cold. Turning around, Jack re-opens the sliding glass door just wide enough for his head to push through.

“Marian, you sure you don’t want to come out here and help me?”

“Now stove, you know I told Jack we wouldn’t replace you, but you gotta keep your end of the bargain and actually cook the—”

Marian must be in her talk to non-sentient appliances mood. Jack thinks it might be better to leave her be.

The tarps they bought were just where he left them: leaning against the sliding door in the hardware store tote she bought for no reason. It is a process getting them open, unfolded, and over the piles of dirt and loose underbrush from yesterday’s work. By the time he returns Marian pulls a cast iron skillet out of the oven. She wears her blue apron with the brown flowers details spread throughout. The air smells faintly of onion and sauteed bell peppers.

“Jobs done,” Jack says in a faintly sing songy tone.

“I know you didn’t play that game,” Marian says.

He shrugs. “You did. Can’t I quote you?”

“Me not that kind of Orc!” Marian said in the same sing-songy tone.

Jack shakes his head. Marian and her girlfriend played a lot of computer games, which is probably why they made so much sense together. When they communicated with lingo from Warcraft or gaming terms, Jack usually felt like an alien. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I appreciate the attempt. Frittata?"

Marian uses a spatula to cut the baked egg and vegetable monstrosity into little pieces.

Jack opens the cupboard and realizes it is empty.

"I swear I was using actual plates last week," Jack says. “I was not a complete barbarian while waiting for you and our stuff to get here.”

"Jack, I am not your mother,” Marian says. “I do not care."

"Then why are you putting green slime in perfectly good eggs!?"

Marian quips back. "’I do not like Green eggs’ said Jack. ‘I think your spinach is a hack.’"

She sets down the spatula and frittata onto the counter, taking Jack's head into her hands instead. She speaks again in a normal voice. "Because spinach is good for you. Eggs and veggies are good for my lady parts and we both know how increasing your veggies has been for your stamina."

Jack slips his hands along the shape of her body into the small of her back and finally cupping her butt with both hands. "You sure that's the veggies and not the sex every other day."

She shoves her pelvis slightly against him, her dress drying off what water was left from outside. His swelling self presses against her through the jeans.

"I think it's the veggies." Marian smiles and pulls her body away. His hands hold her tight, but she pushes through his resistance to break free.

“You know that blue balls are a thing, right? Those are probably not going to help with our little project.”

“I do, Jack,” Marian says. “That’s why I’m wearing despicable clothes.” She gives Jack a quick look up and down.

“Fine. Fine. I will distract myself, but you gotta stop being so sexy,” Jack says.

“Tomorrow,” Marian insists. “Or tonight at midnight. If we can’t stand it. But until then, I’m going to lock myself in my makeshift office and work.”