Her eyes roamed the colorful piles of fruits and vegetables. Alexis admired the ripe berries and clean, crisp bouquets of broccoli with more than plain hunger; she longed for the patience and aptitude to actually bake and cook with them. The cart she was pushing through the grocery store was more of a necessary accessory, a cover-up for the fact that she was merely buying things that could be microwaved, popped into the oven, or came with the instructions to just add water.

Alexis turned the corner and nearly yelped at the sight of Jerry coming toward her, carrying a bottle of wine in each hand. She stopped and drew the cart up against her as a barrier. “What are you doing here?”

Jerry smiled at her demeanor. She was a coil of nervous energy around him, and it sparked something in him – a light, playful feeling that was not his norm. He glanced around comically and said, “Oh, dear, I must have missed the sign barring me from the premises.”

“You live in a hotel,” Alexis pointed out. “With 24 hour room service.” The truth was she was truly surprised to see him. Not only because she wasn’t prepared for their first post-kiss confrontation, but it was hard to imagine a man like Jerry Jacks doing such a mundane thing as grocery shopping.

“In a suite, with a refrigerator,” Jerry replied. “But I’m not shopping for myself.”

Alexis eyed the two bottles he held.

“Since you’ve already ruined the surprise, I might as well let you choose your own gift. Red or white?” Jerry asked, holding the wine aloft.

She sighed, heavy with resentment. “I don’t want anything from you.” Alexis tried to push her cart past him, but Jerry extended his leg, hooking his foot around one of the wheels. “Move. Please.”

Jerry obliged, something Alexis was clearly not expecting. She stared at him for a moment in anticipation of his next clever remark or attempt to keep her from walking away. When he said and did nothing, she wheeled her empty cart on by, doing a poor job of concealing her disappointment.

In the end, her groceries fit into two plastic bags with plenty of room to spare. Alexis walked out of the store and spotted Jerry leaning against her car, a bottle of red and a bottle of white sitting upright on the trunk. “I couldn’t decide,” he told her, “so I bought both.” He revealed a bouquet of roses – a red and white assortment - he’d been hiding behind his back.

Alexis smiled despite herself. She walked the rest of the way to her car, forcing the smile away with her usual look of annoyance toward him. She paid him no attention, putting the bags in the backseat and tossing her purse in the front.

“Perhaps I could ride with you to-”

“You’re not going anywhere with me. I don’t want to talk about what happened. I’ve said all I have to say about the possibility of a relationship between the two of us.”

Jerry stood to his full height, carefully placing the roses beside the wine. “I didn’t say anything about talking, Alexis. But our kiss is obviously on your mind.”

She glared at him but found it difficult to convey the level of anger she intended. Their kiss had been on her mind. The memory of it all - the dark, erotic atmosphere of the docks at night, the urgency of his hands, the warm surprise of his tongue – came over her even more as the perfume of the roses mingled with the cool evening breeze and the lights washed Jerry in a soft, pale glow. Alexis’ resolve drained and she grabbed a handful of his shirt where the collar opened wide across his chest, pulling him toward her as she rose on the tips of her toes.

Just as quickly as she’d grabbed Jerry and kissed him, Alexis pulled back and let go, leaving his shirt wrinkled in her wake. She reached around him and grabbed one bottle of wine, taking it with her as she climbed into the car. She turned the key in the engine but got right back out, grabbing the second bottle and the roses.

Slamming the car door shut, she honked until Jerry stepped to the side, giving Alexis room to back out of the parking space. He waved, knowing full well she was more focused on his reflection in the rearview mirror than on the stretch of road in front of her.

II.

She lost count of how many times Jerry asked her to be his date for the grand re-opening of The Haunted Star. Alexis was positive she had responded with a resounding “no” every time, yet Jerry showed up outside her door when she was ready to leave, and when she wouldn’t ride with him, he followed right behind her so that they arrived together despite her efforts to stay away from him.

“There are quite a few members of law enforcement here,” Alexis said when she felt Jerry sidle up next to her at the bar. “I can easily have you arrested for stalking.”

He waved the bartender over and ordered two martinis. “Perhaps I should have you arrested. You did attack me in the parking lot the other night.”

Alexis balked at the accusation, her mouth open wide in a soundless protest.

“Not that I didn’t enjoy it,” Jerry added.

The bartender placed the two drinks in front of them. Alexis grabbed both, turning and walking away, leaving Jerry without a beverage but quite a view; the fabric of her black dress draped low to the small of her back.

Alexis spent the evening displaying the comfortable, fun intimacy she shared with Jax, and the less comfortable but still familiar closeness she had with her most recent ex-husband. Jerry knew the way she let Jax dance her from the bar to their corner booth, and how she draped a supportive arm across Ric’s shoulders at the blackjack table, was all for his benefit. He could have made the same attempt with any number of women, but he had no interest in even feigning an interest in someone else.

Having lost Jax to Carly’s arrival and Ric to his drunken losing streak, Alexis headed to the bar to pay her tab. “That was taken care of,” the bartender told her.

“Mr. Jacks?” she asked, thinking how Carly probably threw a fit over Jax paying for Alexis’ drinks.

He nodded. “Yes. A Mr. Jerry Jacks.”

Alexis sighed and spotted Jerry on the deck of the boat. She made her way toward the door, all the while thinking of how she’d spent – perhaps wasted – the evening and her shockingly revealing dress on a married friend and a miserable, undeserving-of-her-sympathy ex-husband.

She opened the door to the deck, cooled by the breeze and the water, and the words “thank you” came spilling out.

Jerry turned around. “For?”

She ignored his attempt to be clever and mysterious. Alexis joined him, resting her hip against the railing. “You do realize you were paying for some of Ric’s drinks?”

He shrugged a shoulder, waving it off. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Alexis?”

She paused, considering how to respond. “Somewhat, yes.”

“Only somewhat? What then, do you think, would make your evening complete?”

Alexis turned her head to gaze at the endless stretch of water. It made the world behind them – the people still laughing, drinking, and gambling on the boat, and the lives beyond the Haunted Star everyone was abandoning for one reckless night – seem so distant. The moon sparkled on the water, a dazzling, elegant sight, giving the feeling that faraway feeling an even greater, romantic weight.

The subtle motion of the boat and the shimmer of the moonlight were hypnotic, and it was the sudden light pressure of Jerry’s fingertips on her bare arm that drew Alexis’ attention back to him. She peered up at his face and, finally, answered his question by reaching up and smoothing her hands down the lapels of his suit coat. She rested her palms in the center of his chest. When Jerry bent his head, she met him halfway, accepting his kiss with soft, pliant lips.

His hands drifted to her hips, and as Jerry’s hold on her became tighter, Alexis wound her arms around his neck. She pushed him back against the railing and he moaned at the way her body fit perfectly against his, at how she clung to him and trapped him there in her arms. What had started as the gentle press of their mouths became a deep, passionate embrace made of labored breaths and tangled limbs.

Alexis drew back with a sated breath, wobbling a bit in her heels before she felt steady enough to completely let go of Jerry. “Okay,” she whispered, backing up toward the door and fumbling with the knob behind her back.

She left him with that one breathless word, retreating back into the noisy chaos of The Haunted Star while Jerry touched his lips, sure there was no denying the kiss had actually happened; his lips were burning.

III.

Her coffee had cooled long ago and the wheat toast she’d been so hungry for had gotten soggy. Alexis had entered Kelly’s famished and, as seemed to be the norm lately, become distracted by her own wandering thoughts. Jerry remained on the perimeter of her mind as long as she was busy. She had started the morning with unhappy, demanding children and persistent phone calls, but the moment she slowed down and sat quietly at a table with her breakfast, Jerry dominated her thoughts.

It didn’t help when he’d walked into the diner, the chime of the bells above the door seeming to announce his arrival with fanfare.

“What a nice surprise,” Jerry said, taking the empty seat across from her, casually opening the newspaper over the table.

Alexis folded her arms defiantly. “I don’t recall inviting you to join me.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Jerry asked, his voice low and husky.

She pursed her lips, knowing her response would be a shaky no. He smelled clean and soapy, a trace of mint evident in the air between them, and his hair was more tousled than usual, as though he’d just stepped out of the shower and run a towel through his unruly locks.

“This is nice,” Jerry said over the top of his coffee mug.

Alexis shrugged. She’d had a fresh pot of coffee brought to the table and indulged in a cinnamon bun in a futile attempt to satiate her other, wanton cravings.

“It’s almost a date,” he remarked proudly.

To the casual observer, they did appear to be a couple passing the morning paper back and forth, sharing an intimate, comfortable silence.

“And after our kiss on the docks, and then you mauling me on the parking lot, and what we shared last night, one might even say we’re in a relationship,” Jerry continued.

At that, Alexis stood and tossed money onto the center of the table. “I have to go,” she said.

Jerry stood up. He turned to watch her flee, having left her purse and briefcase at the table. When Alexis became aware of her empty hands she headed back inside. She stopped, though, at the sight of him standing there with his hands in his pockets, casual and rumpled in jeans and a fitted shirt. The air was still heavy with the clean scent of his soap and the coffee they’d shared.

“I forgot,” Alexis stammered, charging quickly for the table, tucking her briefcase under her arm and slinging her purse over her shoulder. Before she walked past him, she stood to the side of Jerry, awkwardly reaching up and clasping his chin. She pulled him down, surprising him with a quick but penetrating kiss.

He stared after her, thinking he could grow accustomed to Alexis’ recent spontaneous behavior.

IV.

It had been made overwhelmingly clear that Jerry wasn’t welcome at the hospital, where it seemed half of Port Charles was keeping vigil at young Michael’s bedside. The proof was in the bruise throbbing near his right eye, courtesy of Jason Morgan. Even Jerry’s own brother had stood quietly at the edge of it all, not outright accusing him of any wrongdoing, but not jumping to his defense either. That unsavory task had been left to Alexis.

She had coaxed him out of the waiting area and suddenly Jerry found himself sitting on her sofa, holding a bag of ice to his eye. The memory of how he got there was rather fuzzy; he could hardly breathe let alone think through the haze of guilt, dread and responsibility he felt for how Ian’s bullet had missed its target and damaged the boy he so desperately wanted to be an uncle to.

“Does it feel any better?” Alexis asked, walking into the room with a mug of hot tea. She set it on the table in front of Jerry and sat beside him, pointing her knees against his thigh. She gingerly removed the ice and cringed at how the bruise had darkened.

His response was a vague shake of his head.

“I made you tea,” she said. “But if you’d like water or something else, I can…”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Jerry asked.

She folded her hands over his thigh.

“You realize everyone at that hospital, everyone who loves that boy, believes that I shot him?”

Alexis nodded. “Well, I don’t.”

“Why? How can you be so sure, Alexis? Aren’t you the President of the Jerry Jacks is a Raving Psychopath and Can’t Be Redeemed Fan Club?”

She maneuvered from the sofa to the coffee table in front of him, their knees pressed together. The way her hands grasped his, holding them over his lap, was like an anchor for Jerry; he felt dizzy, like the surface beneath his feet was liquid, swallowing him up. “I just know,” she told him, the confidence in her voice startling to him. “I’ve seen the good in you, Jerry.”

“It could have been an act. You’ve said so yourself.”

Alexis shook her head and squeezed his hands inside hers. “You can be as self-loathing as you’d like, Jerry. But I live in a world of absolutes. Unless someone shows me evidence that you were responsible, which they haven’t been able to do, I know you didn’t hurt Michael.” She released his hands and stood, but something kept her still; a painfully quiet sob that seemed to roll from the pit of Jerry’s stomach to where he failed to completely swallow it back into his throat.

He leaned forward, his head falling against her stomach. Jerry breathed heavily into the shield of her body, choking back his repentant, lonely tears. Alexis’ arms made a tight circle around his shoulders and she sank down onto her knees in front of him, cradling his head against her chest.

When she felt him grow still in her arms and his breath had evened out, Alexis leaned back and framed his face with her hands. She kissed the discolored skin just under his swollen eye, and then his cheek, and then her mouth opened against his tense lips. Jerry relaxed under the heady weight of her mouth, gladly breathing in the comfort she offered. He felt her sink against him, not an inch of air separating them, her warmth washing over him. It was unlike any other kiss they had shared; no hesitation, no frenzy, no fear of being caught, no playful teasing.

The moment Alexis tilted her head back, breaking the contact of their mouths only, she stared into his eyes before resting her head on his shoulder.

Jerry stroked her back, his hand snaking under her shirt to feel the smooth warmth of her bare skin. They remained that way, embracing, breathing in synch, for a long while. Feeling his bleak mood slowly dissolving, Jerry asked quietly, “Later, when this moment has passed, are you going to deny it happened?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder. Alexis kissed the corner of his mouth and said, “I couldn’t if I tried.”