One Last Time- Jordan Knight Fanfic

One

Jordan

We enter the house through the side access door at the rear of the mansion, just as we do every morning. When we reach the end of the hallway, I lift my chin in a silent expression of appreciation to Clay—my security detail and running friend. Still as breathless as I am, he dips his head in a nod, offering me a wave before heading to his quarters. I glance up the stairs and then make my ascent to my own bedroom, well aware that we'll both be taking our leave with the sunrise.

Even though it's barely five-thirty in the morning, and I'm sure I made not a sound when I got up for my usual run an hour ago, I return to the master suite to find Veronica is already awake. I don't see her when I sit on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed to unlace my sneakers, but the sheets are empty, and the lamps on each nightstand flanking the mattress are illuminated.

"Morning, sweetie," she murmurs softly, walking into the room.

I look up and watch my wife exit our closet, her short, black robe left open. I let my eyes take in the matching black negligee she wore to bed last night, the silky material hugging her hourglass figure. Her long, black hair hangs down her chest, hiding her full, heavy breasts, but that doesn't stop me from remembering that they are there.

Lifting my gaze to meet hers, I pull off one sneaker and then the other as I reply, "Good morning."

"How was your run?" she asks, as she so often does.

"Good," I assure her. "It's brisk out, but I appreciated it after the first mile."

"Good."

Once she's closed the distance between us, she leans down to pick up my shoes. On her way up, she stops and puckers her lips. I accept the invitation thoughtlessly.

"You're up early. What do you have going on today?"

"Do I have to have a reason to be up?" she asks, turning back toward the closet. "Can't a wife just wish to see her husband off to work?"

A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I follow after her, yanking my sweat soaked t-shirt from off of my back. Joining her in the closet, I toss the soiled garment in the hamper as I reply, "You say that like I haven't been paying attention to you for the last decade. I know you better than that, Sophie. Idle hands are not something you're familiar with."

She chuckles—the sound throaty and mischievous—and discards my shoes before she starts picking through my suits.

"Your new interns start today, don't they?"

I sigh, having forgotten that to be true. I spent the duration of my run thinking about the session that I called for today. Legislatures have been on my ass about this bill, but I won't sign it until it's right.

"Yeah," I mumble, tugging off the rest of my clothing.

I think about what that means for my day, and I rake my fingers through my hair as I head for the shower.

"...you know how I like to stop by."

"What was that?" I ask Sophie, only catching the tail end of her sentence as I start my water.

I turn away from the glass stall and come face to face with her. She smiles, holding up two ties, and I point to the solid blue one before she repeats, "Cookies. It's tradition. You know that."

"Right," I nod, stepping into the shower.

"Anyway, I've got a busy day," she goes on to tell me, speaking loudly so that I can hear her as I wash. "I thought I'd get the cookies baked this morning before I went to Mercy Hill. You know I'm in charge of the clothing drive this Saturday. Your dad wanted to meet and get the run-down on the morning I have planned."