July 4, 1972
Julia fanned herself as she craned her neck to watch the sparkling fireworks explode over the Great Estate. Even though the hour was late, the July 4th night was still hot and steamy. *Sultry*, she thought to herself. *That* was the word she was looking for: the night air was sultry.
It seemed that all of Collinsport had turned out for the annual Collinwood Independence Day picnic. Elizabeth opened the grounds to the townspeople every year on this day, providing food, games, and when night finally fell, the much anticipated pyrotechnics in the sky.
Julia oohed and ahhed with the rest of the crowd as red, white, and blue flowers of fire blossomed above them, accompanied by loud booms and whirling whistles. The halls of the mansion and the surrounding landscape would glow briefly and then fade back to black, making shadows dance before the red-headed doctor’s eyes.
A particularly bright white rocket spun into the velvet darkness, providing greater illumination, and that’s when Julia saw it.
*Was that…? Did I really just see-?* Julia couldn’t be sure. Maybe it had just been a trick of the light. Or maybe not. *Surely not…* She thought to herself. She focused her eyes in the direction of the vision when another barrage of bright fireworks exploded and confirmed her conclusion. In seconds the light faded but the image of a bare male backside dashing toward the woods was emblazoned on her mind.
Two warm hands came to rest on her shoulders and when she turned slightly, warm lips pressed against her cheek. “Did you just see that?” She asked her husband incredulously as she waved in the direction of the now absent streaker.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” He wrapped his arms around Julia from behind as they refocused on the fireworks display. “I believe that was Quentin’s payment for losing a bet to David. As I recall the agreement, if he were to lose, Quentin must do something ‘flashy’ and ‘racy’ during the Fourth of July celebration. I would say he succeeded, wouldn’t you?”
Julia chuckled. “Yes, on both counts.”
Happily the couple watched the finale of the annual display, the conflagration leaving a smoke cloud of immense proportions hanging over the crowd as it began to disperse. Julia wrapped her arm through Barnabas’ as they turned to make the short walk to their home.
“Barnabas? Have you ever given any thought to streaking?” Julia asked quietly.
“Julia! Absolutely not!” He looked at her aghast as he halted and she stepped in front of him. For the first time, Barnabas noticed how the sultry night air had caused Julia’s cotton, sleeveless blouse to cling provocatively to her slender frame. It was a thoroughly enticing sight.
She stepped closer and looked up at him with a lusty smile. “Not even if the dash was only from the bathroom to the bedroom? You know, if you did, I bet I could make it worth your while,” she offered as she pressed herself seductively against him.
Barnabas growled lowly as he leaned down to kiss Julia. “That’s quite an enticing wager you propose.” His mind raced with the possibilities as he pulled Julia to him and trailed kisses down her neck before returning to whisper hotly into her ear. “I think I’ll accept that bet, my dear.” He answered as he quickly turned a smiling Julia toward the Old House.
That night, Barnabas accepted Julia’s dare, she kept her promise, there were no losers to their bet, and there were plenty of private fireworks to enjoy.
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