The Bad Boy Next Door

"Tell me about Jamia."

Frank froze. Why was Jo asking him about his ex-wife of all people? They'd just spent hours having amazing sex, and now all he wanted was to lay there with her in his arms and bask in the afterglow, not talk about the train wreck that was his marriage. "Why?"

"I don't know, I just… How did you meet her?"

Frank let out a deep breath. He could tell from the look in Jo's eyes that she wasn't just going to let this go. Maybe he could make it quick and painless. "Do you remember the woman I mentioned a while back, Tilly?"

"The one you wrote the poetry for?"

"Yeah. I was at a party, and I finally got the nerve to tell Tilly how I felt. She rejected me, and Jamia found me afterwards, and I guess we just clicked."

"I dropped a book on Pete's head."

"Excuse me?"

"That's how I met him. I went to college for a bit, before my mom got sick. I was getting my textbooks, and I dropped one on Pete's head." Jo laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "Maybe I should've taken that as an omen and gotten the hell out."

Frank wondered what brought on Jo's sudden need to talk about Jamia and Pete. Was it some form of guilt or was she simply commiserating with him on their failed marriages? Frank frowned. But hers wasn't a failed one, not really anyway. She was still Mrs. Wentz, and she still wore his ring-though it had pleased Frank to notice she hadn't been wearing it when she'd come over that afternoon. "Do you wish you had?"

"Had what?"

"Gotten out then?"

Jo paused for a second. "I don't know."

Frank hadn't expected her to say yes, but it still hurt when she didn't. However, what she said next quickly made up for it.

"I wouldn't have met you. Pete picked out our house, moved us in. If I hadn't married him, then I wouldn't live next door to you, and we wouldn't have this."

"If I hadn't have married Jamia, I never would've moved to the States. She wanted to come here, not me."

"So without them, we wouldn't have each other."

"Possibly. You believe in fate, sweetheart?"

"Fate? What about fate?"

"Maybe we were meant to meet. Instead of meeting because of them, we met in spite of them. Like this was destined."

Jo turned her head away from him. "I don't believe in fate," she said. "Just random events, stringing together to form your life. Nothing destined about it."

Frank kissed the crown of her head. "I don't put much stock in fate myself. Just musing."

Jo turned back, snuggling close to him. "I like this bit of randomness, though."

"Me, too," Frank replied, running his fingers through her hair. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Jo."

Jo looked at him, startled. "You have to have had better things in your life than this…"

"My life hasn't been all that interesting, love."

"I don't know if I believe that," Jo said, reaching up to trace a scar near his hairline. "How'd you get this?"

"Knife fight in Jersey."

"Knife fight in Jersey? And you're telling me your life isn't interesting. How'd you manage to get into a knife fight in Jersey?"

Frank blushed. "That's a long story I'd rather not get into, kitten." He stroked her cheek. "Right now, I'd rather just kiss you more."

"Mmm. More kissing sounds good," Jo said, craning her neck slightly to meet his descending lips. Frank wrapped his arms tightly around her, and Jo forgot all about Frank's past loves and scars.