King's Queen

by Marie Johnston

  “I’ll get another room. I just want to be with you, Kate. If it’s only during the flight while you read and I work, that’s fine.” My gaze flicked to the bedroom in the back, but I tamped down the overwhelming lust that surged through me. We’d never had private-plane sex. The bedroom was rarely used by me or Dad. Maybe Beck and Eva got their fair use out of it that didn’t include sleeping. But I’d never broached the subject with Kate, afraid she’d be mortified that Shirley or Luna would realize what we were doing.

  Her expression softened and she inched the book out of her tote.

  The cover came into view and I couldn’t stop myself from making a choking noise. A woman was splayed in a sultry pose in the middle of three stacked, shirtless men. The subject matter was evident…and not what I’d seen Kate read before. “Catching up on the classics?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “A few of our patrons have complained that we only offer basic, vanilla romance, and a couple of others have asked about this author. So I thought I’d read a few different authors of this content so I can do my job and purchase and recommend material to patrons.”

  At home, books were stacked on Kate’s nightstand and on the end table in the living room, and the room I’d made into her office was full of bookshelves. Seeing her read a romance wasn’t unusual, and I’d never thought about it beyond trying to win her over with textbook romance before I had proposed.

  But her flushed cheeks and obvious defensiveness was more than I could ignore. A flustered Kate was like my catnip. I sat forward and put my elbows on my knees. “I need you to clear something up for me.”

  “Okay?”

  “What do they call it when it’s more than three people having sex? Ménage à trois doesn’t work.”

  Her blush deepened and she pushed her glasses up. “Um, this type of book is called reverse harem.”

  I repressed my smile, feeding on her discomfort. “One woman, many guys. I see. How does it happen? One at a time? All at once?” I tilted my head. “How would that work? Logistically?”

  She blinked her owlish eyes. “Aiden King, are you playing dumb?”

  My grin broke free. She tried to cover up an eye roll, but she giggled. I managed billions of dollars, but making my wife laugh right now was a bigger accomplishment.

  I reclined in my seat. “Vanilla sex, huh?”

  The blush returned but she sighed. “We often buy books off of curated lists. Usually, they tend to be by well-known authors, books from bestseller lists, authors or books that have won major awards, you know, something along those lines. There are a ton of romance categories and those readers tend to be prolific. They burn through our physical and online stock and then give us feedback on what they’d like to see. I noticed a theme emerging that the books were too tame.”

  “They want more Fifty Shades?”

  “Yes and no. They want more variety than just the most popular of the most popular. They want more heat.”

  I dropped my voice a few notches. “Heat?”

  Scarlet now, she scowled at me. “Heat.”

  I’d push for a definition, but I wasn’t making just Kate squirm in her seat. If I kept talking to my wife about the sexual content of books, this flight would be the most painful I’d ever experienced. Add in the bedroom in the back that I doubted she’d want me to haul her into, and I was in hell.

  Shirley saved me. “Everything’s ready. Can I get you anything before takeoff?”

  I kept my gaze on Kate and the extra sparkle in her eyes after our conversation.

  “No, thank you, Shirley,” Kate said.

  Shirley hated doing nothing for an entire flight. I tried to have at least one task for her each time. “Did you have time to hit up the new bakery in town?”

  The older woman beamed. “Oh, yes. I’ve been dying to go there and you gave me just the reason. I have a nice assortment of sweets and baked goods I think you’ll both like.”

  “Thank you. Can’t wait.” Kate’s gaze was on me as Shirley went to her jump seat and buckled in. I’d never cared what Shirley packed for snacks or meals. This was a first-time request for me. And I liked the way surprise lightened the brown in Kate’s irises. I made sure to capture her gaze when I said, “I bet there’ll be plenty of non-vanilla options. Enjoy your book.”

  I deliberately broke the connection and reached for my laptop bag. Messing with my wife was my new favorite hobby.

  But as I fired up my laptop and Kate started reading her X-rated book, I realized that I’d messed with myself more. The joke was on me. I wasn’t going to get a bit of work done while wondering if Kate was reading a sex scene and thinking of me.

  The car I’d hired to take us from the airport to the conference center pulled up to the hotel. Several work vehicles were pulling away, done for the day. Vans emblazoned with plumbing and electrical companies lined the street. Contractor and construction company vehicles. Taxis and Ubers dropping off and picking up.

  The driver parked by the row of glass doors. I got out and helped him unload our bags. I took both mine and Kate’s and let her lead the way into the hotel. The din of footsteps on the marble floor and at least twenty conversations around the lobby hit us.

  Kate went to an open agent at the counter and I stepped to an empty spot next to her.

  The woman behind the counter was dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt. Her name tag read Cynthia, and she grinned as she watched me muscle all the bags into a tidy pile. “How can I help you?”

  “Hi, Cynthia. Can I get a room for the next three nights?” Preferably as close to Kate as possible? I glanced up. Seven levels. What were the odds I’d land on the same floor?

  “I’m so sorry, sir. We don’t have any vacancies.”

  None? It was December. A slow month for conferences and sporting events. Ah. “Construction?”

  Her smile was sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I can help you find a room in a hotel nearby.”

  I hadn’t expected to spend a lot of time with Kate while she was at her convention, but I’d at least hoped to be under the same roof. The roof might house a few hundred rooms, but I’d remained optimistic.

  Kate’s attention was on us. “No opening?”

  I tucked my wallet back into my slacks. “No problem. I’ll talk with Luna about the bedroom.” Could I use it when the plane wasn’t in use? I didn’t care to sit in another hotel.

  “On the plane?” Kate glanced at the young man helping her, then at the woman assisting me. Her gaze landed on me, full of resolve. “Just stay with me.”

  “This is your conference.” I could fist-pump right now, but I hadn’t meant to intrude this much on her weekend. She was technically working, after all.

  “It’s all right, Aiden.”

  I thanked Cynthia for her time, gathered my suitcase and Kate’s, and shouldered my tech bag while she finished up.

  On the way to the elevator, she handed me a key, hesitant. “There’s two beds. Two queens.”

  Damn. “All right.”

  Still. Progress was progress. We were talking. She hadn’t asked when we were going to sign the divorce papers. I was making progress whether I was back in her bed or not.

  We were about to get into the elevator when a woman approached us. Her jeans could’ve been painted on and her top was cut low enough that most guys could guess her cup size.

  “Kate? Hey!”

  Kate’s expression went from her usual curious fascination when we were in a new hotel to bland. “Hailey. Hi.”

  “Oh my gosh. You finally brought your husband to one of these.”

  Hailey extended her hand, her smile wide enough to devour me whole. Tension started at my shoulders and ran down my body, muscle by muscle. Why would Hailey care if I was here?

  I was sifting through my memories for a Hailey that Kate might’ve mentioned when Hailey said, “Yeah, my dad is in the wind energy business. Mertens Energy.” She flashed me a self-deprecating look. “Hailey Mertens.”

  The amazing luck that h
ad landed me in the same hotel room as my wife vanished. Mertens Energy was a vocal critic of the oil and gas industry. Dad and I had done a lot to keep out of Mertens Energy’s spotlight, mainly from their owner and CEO, Gregory Mertens.

  “Nice to meet you. I guess you already know me.” I clasped her hand for a shake and she latched on like she was going to cuff me, her other hand slapping onto both of ours.

  Hailey’s giggle crossed the line into flirty. “My dad was just talking about King Oil the other day.”

  The elevator dinged and I wanted to run, but I had to extract my hand first without looking like her clammy touch was revolting. I couldn’t undo all of the progress we’d made with Mertens Energy by being rude to his daughter.

  The elevator doors closed and Kate pressed the button again. Grateful she’d skipped the first open elevator, some of my tension eased. “How is Gregory doing?” I asked politely.

  Hailey shifted and it somehow brought her between me and Kate. “Dad’s good. He’s working on a new wind farm in your neck of the woods. You’re in Billings, right?”

  I nodded and heard the elevator ding. Kate’s presence centered me. I’d finish this conversation, then take her out to a nice meal tonight.

  “So, I’ve been dying to hear an oil company’s take on the whole wind energy topic.” She swung her hair until long, shiny locks landed over her shoulder. “I hear my dad’s side all the time.”

  People streamed out of the elevator. No one else waited to get on. Just us.

  I was asked about wind energy more than Hailey would expect. “Well—” Kate lifted her suitcase from my hand and disappeared inside the open elevator. My head whipped around. “Wait.”

  Kate ignored me and pressed the button for our floor. The doors started to close.

  Shit. I jumped to put my hand between the doors and they popped back open. “You’ll have to excuse me,” I said as I ducked into the elevator with Kate.

  Kate hit the button to close the door. Hailey was frowning, her lower lip sticking out in a pout. I gave her a nod, hoping she didn’t tattle to her dad that the CFO of King Oil had ditched his baby girl mid-conversation. Gregory Mertens was the kind of guy who’d hold that against the whole company.

  The doors closed us in. “Kate—”

  She shook her head. “No.” She stuck a finger toward the door. “That’s exactly what I was talking about. Women like that corner you about ‘business’ ”—she used air quotes—“and you think I should hang out in your shadow and be okay with it.”

  “It was business, Kate. You heard who her dad is.”

  Kate stepped close to me, four years of anger radiating from her blazing eyes. “Hailey doesn’t give a shit about oil. She doesn’t give one flying rat’s ass about the wind-versus-oil debate. And I doubt she has half a fuck to give about her dad’s company as long as he keeps giving her large sums of money for Christmas. Librarians aren’t always pillars of morality, Aiden. Sometimes they’re douchebags. Hailey likes the power she gets from making supposedly good men stray from their partners. That’s what she lives for at these conferences.”

  I recoiled. “I wasn’t going to do anything but talk shop. I didn’t want to do even that.”

  “Then don’t.” Her voice cracked like a whip. The elevator lurched to a stop. We were at our floor.

  I kept pace with Kate as she stomped to our room. I kept my voice to a hiss. “She’s exactly the type of person who’ll gladly wield bad PR against those guys who don’t stray from their wives. Her dad’s worse. Balancing that is just another game in business.”

  Kate lifted a shoulder. “If you want to play that game, go ahead. I’m done with it.”

  She stopped at our room and swiped her card, then slammed the door open and stormed in.

  I stepped in and let the door slam shut behind me. I’d never seen her this pissed before. She toed off her athletic shoes and dumped her tote on the desk. Her body was tight, her movements short.

  Was this how she’d felt every time I talked to another woman?

  You think I should hang out in your shadow and be okay with it.

  No, it wasn’t talking to women. It was ignoring my wife while I did it.

  It wasn’t just about insecurity. It was about respect. It didn’t matter the subject, I talked to other women while not talking to her. First, she thought I didn’t love her. Now, she thought I didn’t respect her.

  No matter what, she was my wife and I should make sure everyone around me knew that she was the most important person in my world. That I cared about her more than what Gregory fucking Mertens thought of King Oil.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She paused mid-ravage of her suitcase. The zipper wouldn’t have survived much longer. Her mouth was set when she looked up at me. “Thanks.”

  “Seriously, Kate. I didn’t realize, and I should’ve.” I closed the distance between us and gripped her arms, brushing my thumbs over her long-sleeved shirt. “I relied on your support through those conversations so much that I never considered how it made you feel.”

  “I didn’t support you though. No one wanted to talk to me. Not even you.”

  “I could give a fuck about the people I was talking to.” Her pupils dilated at my harsh tone. “I meant it when I said that I’m usually sitting there wishing that it was over. I just wanted to be with you, and I was always grateful you were with me.” I leaned into her, dangerously close to kissing her when a bed was only feet away. “Can I take you out tonight, before you get wrapped up in the conference?”

  The anger drained out of her and she softened in my grip. “Where?”

  “There’s a haute cuisine—”

  She wrinkled her nose and stepped away. “I hate those places.” She grabbed a pair of slacks out of her suitcase and hung them up.

  My brows shot up as I stood abandoned in the middle of the room. “Really?” She’d been in awe and gushed over the food every time I took her to a Michelin-starred restaurant. That’d been an act?

  She noticed my confusion and sighed. “I mean, I like the experience. But half the time, I want to go to McDonald’s and get a Big Mac or something because I’m starving afterward.” She waved a hand around. “I hate the worry about what I’m going to wear and how to pronounce the entrees and trying to remember which fork to use first. It’s tedious.”

  “So the entire time we dated, you were miserable? Our honeymoon?”

  “It was nice,” she said lightly. “But that’s not how I want to live.”

  A Michelin-starred restaurant was only nice? The French Riviera was just nice? My sole goal during the months we’d dated and been engaged was to secure her wedding vows, to tie her to me. I’d wined and dined her and swept her off her feet…only to learn years later that she’d rather have had her feet on the floor in comfortable shoes and Golden Arches over her head.

  I’d planned a campaign to romance a wife, and I’d assumed I’d done a good enough job.

  “What do you want?” Had I ever asked her that, not just in relation to food or eating out, but about anything? Or had I been too afraid I wouldn’t be able to give it to her?

  Pushing her glasses up, she thought. “I’d rather order in a burger and sit in my pajamas and eat while watching a show.”

  She spoke like she’d done that before, but we hadn’t done that before. This was what my wife wanted. Just to be with me. To be comfortable with me. Did I know how to give that to her?

  Kate

  * * *

  The final workshop of the day dragged on. I was taking notes on ways to market the library’s services to those who needed them the most and trying to keep my mind off the last two nights.

  I’d managed to avoid Hailey since her blatant flirtation with my husband. She’d latched on to a young assistant library director from Massachusetts with a wife and kid number two on the way. Poor guy looked like he wanted to vomit each time Hailey appeared at his side.

  Finally, the speaker wrapped up and I scribbled down her cont
act information for my boss. My friend and old college buddy Bisa leaned over. “Is that your hubby who’s dropping jaws every morning in the gym?”

  I didn’t bother to downplay his effect on people. I was more susceptible than anyone. “That’s him.”

  Bisa chuckled. “I swear there were twice as many women in the gym this morning versus Friday morning.”

  “Only one reason I don’t work out with him.” Aiden pounded himself to the ground in the gym. When he worked out, his focus was as complete as with any other task. He might not notice my boob sweat and the low mph on my treadmill, but I noticed it enough for the both of us.

  She nudged me with her elbow. “You get to do all the other fun stuff with him.”

  I smiled, but my body reminded me that I had not done any fun stuff with Aiden for weeks. I hadn’t thought I was a woman with a high sex drive until I’d quit getting it on a regular basis. A portion of my body’s blood kept my nether region stoked and flared every time Aiden was in view.

  Workshop attendees drifted past us as I packed my notes away.

  “Do you want to grab a bite before the social tonight?” Bisa asked. “Oh, you probably have plans with Aiden.”

  “No, he’s working.” Except for Thursday night. We’d each ordered a burger from room service. I’d eaten in bed, in my Harry Potter pajama pants and a college T-shirt. Aiden had done the same in flannel pants I rarely saw him wear. He’d had his phone and his tablet to work, but he’d been next to me, albeit in his own bed. After that night, he’d set up shop at the desk in the room.

  I could invite him out with us, but I couldn’t ask him to pretend we were living under the same roof for one of my oldest friends. I wasn’t sure I could do it and not die slowly from anxiety. Sleeping next to him for two nights in separate beds had left me achy and needy.

  I messaged Aiden that I was meeting a friend to eat and wouldn’t be back to the room. I didn’t want him waiting for me, but I refused to cancel on Bisa so I could go and watch him work. Last night had been nice. But ditching a friend to do it meant I hadn’t learned anything from our divorce situation.