Romance Rekindled (Happily Bedded Bliss)

by Allen, Jenna

  He crossed the room and dropped the card in the trash can. “You’re avoiding the issue.”

  “No, you’re trying to make an issue of a card. A card, Scott. When I have never once questioned you about late night meetings, weekends away from the family, or having someone else answer the phone in your hotel room.” My gaze locked with his, praying he didn’t flinch. I trusted my husband. If I didn’t, there wasn’t any point in being married.

  Scott’s expression softened and he nodded. “And I have never asked you for detailed accounts of when you go out.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You mean when I go out with your sister? Thanks so much for that leap of faith.”

  “She’s not the only one you go out with.”

  “Choose your words carefully, because you can’t take them back.” I pressed my lips together, wanting to scream. When I’d confided I didn’t want to move because I would miss my friends, he’d waved it off and said I’d make new ones. I’d tried to explain that friends don’t come from a catalog. It’s not like I was going to go through the fifth grade again, or take Calculus, or even Lamaze. Scott had vetoed having another baby before Kyle was even born. I knew them, they knew me, and not one of them would think of going through my purse and deciding what needed to be tossed aside.

  “I just want to know why you kept his card.”

  I met his gaze and held it, not knowing what to say. I didn’t know the answer. It was some kind of subconscious safety net, though in reality if things went bad with Scott here in Portland, I would pack up the kids and move back home before I cheated.

  “Are you threatening me, Jessie?”

  I opened my mouth, wanting to say yes, wanting to know if that would mean he’d fold his hand.

  His phone peeled out it’s annoying ring, making me want to jump out of my skin. Scott cursed, digging the phone from his pocket. He keyed in some kind of response.

  “We’re late. The Nelson’s are downstairs waiting for us.”

  “Oh, goody,” I deadpanned. I took a deep breath, wanting so desperately not to keep getting sucked back to this place where we were at war. But it seemed as if to do that I had to have a lobotomy.

  He turned on his heel and stomped to the door of the hotel room, expecting me to follow like an obedient puppy. He wasn’t giving up a thing to move here, and it felt as if he was plucking the parts of my life from me one by one. He was picking up his life and transplanting it. Mine had been thrown in a tornado; the only thing salvageable was the kids.

  At the door, Scott turned around. “Aren’t you coming?”

  If I’d had anywhere else to go, I wouldn’t have. But that was the rub. If we moved here, I’d have to be completely dependent on a man who refused to see why it was so hard to be just that. I’d never had to be completely reliant on him before. I had my network, family and friends who filled in whenever he was out of town or out of touch with how I felt. Here, if he failed me there was no safety net.

  My feet moved, but my heart lagged behind.

  Chapter 5

  D im red and orange lights set the restaurant aglow, warming the atmosphere with friendliness. It was a spectacular effect, and it made me wish I were reviewing the restaurant, not trying to squeeze myself into a life I wasn’t sure would fit.

  Kit and Mark Nelson were much better than I’d feared, a little older than us with four kids. I knew I’d like Kit the instant I saw her purse – just like mine but in a gorgeous crimson. You can tell a lot about a woman from her handbag.

  At the restaurant we met Liz and Seth Watts. Liz carried a clutch that had once been white and what should have been leather seemed to be peeling. I hoped she’d lost the same purse battle I’d had to fight earlier.

  “I love your bag.” I leaned closer to Kit, but spoke loud enough for Scott to hear. Let him see I wasn’t the only one carrying one. At least I’d inherited mine from an aunt who bought one each year and decided black had become gauche. Aside from the two-year waiting list, purchasing one cost as much as a house payment.

  Kit smiled so big her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “I just got a violet suede. Next time we get together, I’ll bring it.”

  “Oh, don’t start on those purses,” Mark said, taking a sip off his whiskey. “We went to Paris this spring and she spent an entire day looking at purses.”

  “They just don’t understand,” Kit said in a loud whisper.

  “You bought one in Paris? That’s like the mother ship calling you home.” Someday I was going to spend a week in Paris, just eating and shopping. It was on my list of life goals, but kept getting pushed down by violin lessons and soccer games.

  “It was wonderful.” She ran a hand along the top of her bag. “They reconditioned this one while we were there. It was a fabulous trip, and not just for the shopping. It was so relaxing to just be together without the kids. After the move, you two should do it.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Scott said before I even had time to roll my eyes. He hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. I wasn’t sure if he was putting on for his new co-workers or if life could really be different at the new company. I didn’t dare hope. “This is the closest we’ve had to a vacation in years, but there is too much to get done to relax. I’m interviewing people all day long and Jess is interviewing schools.”

  “Really, which ones?” Kit’s eyes sparkled as I regaled her with my day. Scott actually looked like he was paying attention too.

  Liz chimed in with her experiences, and before the appetizers arrived I had two more schools to visit and the number of a woman who Kit swore could move the kids up the waitlist at the Waldorf school. From talking to the women I got the impression that Scott was onto something; we might not need private school for the kids if the schools the Nelson and Watts kids were in lived up to the PTA hype.

  And then it hit, the ubiquitous “And what do you do?” that all mothers of young children abhor. Seth Watts stared down the slope of his pointy nose at me, and I knew there wasn’t a right answer to the question. There never was. If you ‘just’ stayed home you lacked ambition, if you worked from home you were branded quaint, and when you laid claim to a career you must be ignoring your children. And that was just in your own head.

  With my life in flux I didn’t even know the answer. I had a great job, certainly brag-worthy, but in a few short months it would be moot. Not to mention I ‘worked’ less than ten hours a week, all of it while my kids were dreaming. An ideal situation I was loathe to give up.

  “Jessica writes restaurant reviews for the Post.” Scott leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Any restaurant you’ve ever heard of in New York, she’s written it up.”

  “How exciting,” Kit cooed.

  “Some nice perks for you.” Seth nudged Scott.

  “Not really. I haven’t been home much in the last two years, so when I am it’s family time. I think I’ve gone to what, two dinners with you?”

  I nodded, amazed he’d noticed. I always made sure my copy was filed before he was due home. With my parents to help with the kids, and my girlfriends to help eat the food I ordered, I didn’t really need him.

  Funny. I suddenly realized that my job always took a backseat to our family until he announced the move. Only then was it a bargaining chip. Did I really want traveling back to New York every month to be my reality?

  But without the byline, I’d be relegated to defining myself by Scott and the kids. Kit Nelson seemed to flourish in that light, but while washed in my own thoughts I couldn’t help but notice Liz Watts blush and flounder through an explanation of her direct sales job. I needed to write my own story, not have it dictated by someone else. Even someone who loved me beyond reason.

  “I just have to tell you,” Kit began as we reapplied lip gloss in the bathroom mirror. “We went to one of Liz’s parties and I thought Mark was going to have a heart attack. I’m not judging. I just don’t want you to be as surprised as we were.”

  “Surprised by what?” I’d been so caught up in my
own head all night, I hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else.

  Kit pursed her red lips and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how to say it, so I’m just going to come out with it. Her couples parties are for couples looking for other couples.”

  I forced myself to close my mouth. “That’s what she sells?”

  She laughed. “No, no. It’s actually a business. She comes to your house and sets up a sexy adult toy store in your living room. It’s fun for a bridal shower, but we didn’t know what to expect so we were kind of blindsided by people, well, testing the merchandise in front of everyone.”

  “Good to know.” We both giggled like teenagers. It was a wonder we were able to collect ourselves and make it back to the table in time for dessert.

  Not that my mind calmed. I couldn’t help the scenes flashing through my mind, even though the monotony of flourless chocolate torte and cognac should have distracted me. I was completely mesmerized by the idea that this ordinary couple held swinging parties in their living room.

  How did that work? Did the women have a lingerie fashion show for the men? Were there demonstrations of the more adventurous toys? Did everyone sit around in a circle playing a sexy board game the way we played cards with the neighbors? How did that play at the soccer game the next morning?

  I had to keep myself from staring at Liz and wondering how it started. Maybe they both wanted to have affairs and thought swinging a better option than breaking up. Had it been her idea or his? My mind hadn’t spun with scenarios like this since college, when I wrote short stories at a frantic pace. I’d been working on a novel before I had Janelle. It was buried in the storage closet beneath boxes of her baby clothes.

  “Are you two planning on having more children?” Seth Watts seemed to be asking the question of my cleavage. Okay, so if it hadn’t been his idea, he obviously was thrilled with the plan.

  “Maybe once we’re settled,” Scott answered, sipping his drink. Funny, I remembered a heated argument three years ago involving me threatening to castrate him if he had a vasectomy.

  I wanted another baby; he swore up and down we couldn’t afford the two we had. My girlfriends had thought I was crazy to keep him from having the procedure if he was willing, but I just couldn’t close the door completely. We kept it locked up tight with birth control, but at least there was a key in case I ever managed to change his mind.

  I tilted my head as I stared at him, wondering what he meant. Was he offering me a baby in exchange for moving? Or was this new job giving him enough confidence about money to want another child?

  “We’ll have to see if Scott really travels less, like he keeps promising.” I smiled at him, warming to see the gesture returned. With as angry as we’d both been earlier, it was nice to see time was calming him as well.

  “I see you two are negotiating.” Kit leaned closer to me. “Make sure you find a house with enough bedrooms, just in case.”

  “In the summer, there are lots of festivals right here.” Scott held my hand in his as we walked through Waterfront Park. Just a few blocks from our hotel, the vast promenade provided an oasis not unlike Central Park. Except in Portland, greenery abounded and parks could be found every few blocks. Waterfront Park ran the length of the seawall keeping the docile Willamette River, which split the city in two, at bay.

  At night the water barely rippled, becoming a reflecting pool for the lights of the city. We passed a large ship that served as a floating maritime museum, and a half submerged submarine beckoned from across the river. It was a highlight of the science museum I planned on taking the kids to as soon as they got to town. I might be wary of moving to Portland, but if I moved them I was going to do everything I could to make sure they loved it. Including becoming a personalized tour guide for the city.

  “Maybe you could take a day off and we could all do a festival together.”

  “I’ll have weekends free, Jess, I promise. But there is a Brewfest that I’m excited about. Did you know there are more micro-breweries here per person than anywhere else in the country?”

  “And more strip clubs.”

  Scott stopped, halting me with him. “I don’t go to strip clubs.”

  “I know, I was just saying. I’ve been reading a lot about the city and that comes up over and over. That and all the hybrid cars.”

  “There are also more restaurants than any other city except San Francisco. You’ll get another job. You’re a great writer.”

  I brought my hand to the back of his neck, stroking his warm skin until he dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine. Lightly, gently, just brushing his lips over mine, teasing until I opened beneath him. Just as I did he pulled away, staring down at me with deep brown eyes full of lust and longing. He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip as if he were tasting me.

  My sex clenched at the realization. Before our evening turned into another argument, muted only by the presence of strangers, we’d been headed that way. Sex was something we’d always managed to do well. If only we communicated as clearly when we used words.

  “Do you want to keep walking? We could take one of the bridges to the Eastbank Esplanade.”

  “Maybe tomorrow. It’s getting cold.”

  He shrugged out of his long black coat and wrapped me up in it. The coat was still warm from his body and enveloped me in his scent. “It’s still warmer than New York. And it hardly ever snows.”

  “You can stop selling me. I’m keeping an open mind, but I’m not promising anything. If I do agree to move, it’ll cost you.”

  He twined our fingers and we started walking again. “Can I afford it?”

  “You don’t have much choice.” I shoved my free hand into the pocket of his coat, coming up with a business card. At the next streetlamp I pulled it out, and laughed out loud at Liz Watts’ sparkling purple card. “What’s this?”

  “While you were freshening up with Kit, Liz gave me her card in case we need any help getting settled.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s why she gave you her card while I was gone.” My pulse sped up at the thought of Scott here alone while I was in New York. There were temptations, and there was just plain dumb. I tossed the card in a nearby trash.

  Chapter 6

  M en. They could make million dollar decisions all day at work, but reality could render them stupid. “Do you remember Ashley’s bachelorette party? When I came home with the edible massage cream and the candle that melts into massage oil?”

  He nodded. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “That is what Liz sells. She does adult parties. And it turns out, she does them for couples. Except instead of bringing the products home, everyone uses them at the party. Together.”

  His eyes widened like the kids’ on Christmas morning.

  “I’m not going to one of her couples parties, and you aren’t going alone. If you want me to move here –”

  He grabbed my hands and tugged me to him, nearly knocking me off of my heels. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

  One arm wrapped around me, holding me tight against his body. Before he could take over, I reached up and threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth to mine. Let him remember the way I kissed when he had to sleep alone. No matter what, we always made love before he left on a trip, and I would imprint myself on this entire town if I had to.

  We danced backwards until he was up against the lamppost. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and yanked it free of his pants.

  “God Jess,” his voice was low and husky with longing. “The only thing better than makeup sex is when you’re jealous.”

  I would have argued on principle, but he was right. There were times when we were hot, and it was usually when I thought I had something to prove.

  “Do you ever get jealous?”

  “You have to ask that after the way we started the evening?” He blinked and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, God. Now I know why Watts was staring at
you all night. I was flattered, and now I’m pissed.”

  I laughed, taking his hand and starting the walk back to the hotel anew. “Why did you tell him we’re having another baby?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it, I guess.”

  “Really?” I’d talked to the man every day for the last twelve years and I still never knew what he was thinking.

  The city was remarkably quiet. New York never seemed to sleep, but here life only pulsed from inside a few clubs, the bass thrumming out of the walls like a heartbeat. No taxi’s running the streets, no revelers carrying the party on outside. We made it two blocks in silence before Scott replied.

  “Kyle doesn’t like me.” His pace quickened, but I kept up with him.

  “What are you talking about? He’s three, he likes everyone.”

  “He doesn’t know me, Jess. He fell last weekend at your folks house and he wanted your mom, not me. I ask him to let me read him a story and he’d rather wait for you.”

  My heart ached for them both. “He’s three. He just –”

  “I’ve missed his whole life because I was working. I’m an every other weekend dad. I just don’t have my own apartment.”

  “It’s not that bad.” I couldn’t argue the logistics. He wasn’t home much, and when he was Janelle monopolized his every moment. She’d been able to get whatever she wanted out of him since she started smiling.

  “I’ll be home for dinner every night here. I doubt I’ll be gone more than a few days at a stretch. I’ll have more time, and if we had a baby Kyle would have to turn to me for things the way Janelle did when he was born.”

  “You want to have a baby to fix your relationship with Kyle?”

  We reached the hotel and he stopped before going in, stepping in front of me with a sad smile on his face. “I’d like to have a baby I can remember. I didn’t see either of their first steps. I heard their first words on video. I can’t believe how fast the last seven years have gone by. Each time I come home I’m shocked by how big they are.”