Chapter 18

The day passed quickly after that. The snow had stopped falling so Amelia had drafted both Adam (who protested loudly and long)) and Jon into pushing their way into the cold to shovel the walk and drive way. Amelia giggled softly to herself at the look on Adam’s face. He never did anything physical if he could get out of it, but when she said they both needed too, he either had to help or look too soft. With a shake of her head she turned to put a pot with the makings of soup on the stove and coffee to brew. Turning to the center counter she began to slice a loaf of bread, her eyes straying to the window beyond her. What she saw had her dropping the knife and rushing to the door, for there standing in their snow were two grown men with shovels raised, as if ready to bash each others brains in.

She rushed to the door and grabbed her coat, sliding it on as she raced through the door. “What the hell are you two doing,” she yelled as she ran towards them.
As she skidded to a stop both men gave her an innocent look and dropped the shovel he held in his hand, “HE did it!” “No HE did,” rumbled through the air as she gazed first at one then the other. Adam cocked his head to the side and started laughing. “Bloody hell, it was him and his I can do it faster than you.”

Jon arched a golden brow, a seriously innocent look on his face, “you irritating Brit, it was you and your Rock Star’s can’t handle men’s work and YOU know it!”

Amelia sighed softly. She had figured they might not like each other, but to actually fight with a sharp object? “ADAM!! Dammit YOU are old enough to know better!!”

Adam turned to her, his hazel eyes alight with a cross between innocence and out right hilarity. “Yes wench I should.” He winked at her at the same moment she felt the snowball hit her square in the back of the head. Whipping around she was suddenly hit in the face by yet another perfectly aimed bundle of snow, thrown by none other than Jon himself. “You see babe,” Jon laughed out in his beautiful voice, “we figured if we had to be cold and wet, you should be too, All’s fair you know.”

With that the battle was on, each giving as good as they got. Snow flying fast and furious coated their clothing and hair until each one was panting and nearly exhausted. With a final heave Amelia turned towards Jon, an arm full of snow in her hands and began to slip. As she fell Jon reached for her, attempting to catch her but ending up sprawled on top of her. Green eyes met blue as time stopped and even raced backward. His firm sensual lips captured hers in a searing kiss that would have melted the snow if it could. Her lips molded to his as her hands reached up to run through snow dampened hair. She was lost in the maelstrom of his touch, uncaring of the icy coldness of hands sliding underneath her sweater. His hips bucked against her slightly, hard evidence of his arousal.

A decidedly baritone “harrumph” had two sets of passion glazed eyes turning towards the sound maker. “I’d really get a room if I were you two, outside in the snow in broad daylight with an audience? Rock Star you I could see doing that, but Ammie?”

“Fuck off British,” Jon said as he turned to kiss the fire haired vixen beneath him, his lips once again moving to claim hers in an ages old dance of possession and ownership. Somewhere within his soul he knew she was his, he just had to find a way to make it so.

With a sudden move Amelia pushed Jon to the side. It wouldn’t do to get lost in his kisses, he wasn’t hers to kiss, hadn’t been for over twenty years. Her gold flecked green eyes radiated sorrow as she hurriedly stood, the ghost of twenty years echoing in the small distance between them. For lack of anything better to say, she mentioned coffee, warmth and soup to lure both men inside. With a glance at Jon she turned and hurried into the house.

Jon stood and gave Adam a look that spoke volumes to the elder immortal. “She’s a good woman Rock Star, and even if you can’t remember the fact you’re married, she can, and she won’t encroach on that, no matter her feelings.”

With a shake of his head Jon turned to go inside. Married or not he didn’t feel that way, and wondered if retrieving his memory would have that changing. He didn’t think so however, not if all they said was true. IF it were, then the women he had wedded had lied for eighteen years, and that was something he wouldn’t allow for. With a slight grin gracing his lips he began to plan how to get the fire haired seductress overwhelming his thoughts to realize the same thing.

He knew one thing above all, immortal or not, memory or no, this was going to be an interesting time in his life.