First Wife Club

by Sterling, Rex

  Yet another person who knew about the Lady Dancer. Why wasn’t I surprised? Peter Patlee looked like he had enough money to put a GPS tracker on my boat and hire a permanent tail to follow me around town. The thought made me shiver. He had undoubtedly donated cash to the university’s antiquities research center. What was stopping him from leaning on one of Hazel’s bosses and stealing the figurine right out from under me? “I didn’t find any treasure,” I said, not bothering to deny I found the Lady Dancer.

  “Thats disappointing,” Peter said, his tone unconvinced. “But that doesn’t diminish your discovery and I insist that you and your beautiful girlfriends attend the ball.” He produced three tickets from the front of his jacket and handed them over to me.

  Had he said girlfriends, as in plural? The tickets suggested as much. If he knew about Brooke and Sam, then he was definitely tailing me. “I’m not really the ballroom dancer kind of guy,” I said. “And if it’s a costume party, then count me out.”

  Peter tilted his head back and laughed. “No, my friend. It’s not a costume party. It’s a formal occasion, but all that’s required are masks. This is to keep the attendees… anonymous.”

  I frowned. “A secret masquerade ball?”

  Peter’s eyes screamed at me to figure it out for myself, and then it hit me. Three tickets, masks, and a secret guest list. This was a party for rich people who were into building harems but didn’t want the world to find out. Did Peter Patlee have a harem? I would have bet money that he did, starting with that hot little honey sitting in his Tesla.

  I nodded as if I final understood, and Peter relaxed. “Behind me on the seat cushion, you’ll find costume masks for you and your lovely brides to be. I can assure you Mr. Ashford, the party will be well worth your time.” He handed me the tickets. “Please. Take them. It’s at the natural history museum two nights from tonight.”

  Reluctantly, I took the tickets from him and nodded. “I’ll do my best to make it.”

  He gave me a slight bow. “Thank you. I’m sure you’re a busy man, so I’ll leave you alone. Again, I apologize for the intrusion.”

  He offered his hand, and I shook it, but that uneasy, sinking feeling settled deep into the pit of my stomach. What the hell did this guy want from me?

  Peter Patlee stepped past me, buttoned his coat, and made his way off the Topless Mermaid before strolling down the pier toward the hottie waiting for him in his Tesla.

  I picked up my phone and immediately texted Hazel.

  Me: I want you to move the figurine.

  Chapter 7

  Shortly before dinnertime, my phone pinged with an incoming text message from Brooke.

  Brooke: Are u busy?

  I grinned and typed out a quick reply.

  Me: For you, I’m never busy. What’s up?

  Brooke: Can you come to my apartment? We need to talk.

  My stomach cratered. It was never good when someone said they needed to talk. Was she staying with Logan and severing ties with me forever? Or, in the cold light of day, had she regretted what happened and wanted to walk it back? And that she wanted the meeting in her apartment rather than on my boat made me think she needed home court advantage for a very tough conversation. Hell, she had never invited me to her apartment, nor had I ever stepped foot inside. It was all too good to be true. Last night was a once in a lifetime aberration — a gift from the Aztec goddess herself. A gnawing, sinking sensation sat heavy in my stomach. Was Sam about to end her streak of winning predictions? I sighed and typed a reply.

  Me: When?

  Brooke: Is now too soon?

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She was dumping me. I knew it and there was absolutely nothing I could do except swallow the pill and smile. I tapped out a quick response.

  Me: Omw

  With any luck, I could still coax Sam into spending the night on the boat, but I didn’t want to come on too strong. She was a twenty-year-old college girl and had friends and a life that didn’t involve me. I would likely end up drowning my sorrows at the Salty Parrot, but it was Maria’s off day. The idea of drinking alone at the end of a bar was so depressing I didn’t want to give that thought any energy.

  There was no use in putting off the inevitable. I trudged down into the cabin and changed into a respectable polo shirt and clean shorts. That’s when it hit me. I had an ace in my pocket — a piece of jewelry I had made for Brooke a long time ago. It was back during a time when I thought she and I had a chance at something special. But then Logan proposed, and any thoughts of a true romance died. I stuffed the piece away from a rainy day, and today it was pouring.

  I grabbed that very special something from my top drawer and stuffed it in my pocket. After a quick mirror check, I grabbed my truck keys and headed out to face the firing squad.

  I arrived a few minutes later, parked, and buzzed the intercom for her apartment.

  “Hello?” she answered through the intercom. Her tone was filled with trepidation.

  “It’s me,” I said.

  “Come on up,” she said and buzzed me in.

  My stomach floundered just this side of full-on nausea and I resisted the urge to flee. I loved her. No matter how cool I played things, my love for her was a simple, objective truth. I couldn’t flee from it or fool myself into thinking it wasn’t real.

  If I had any chance of salvaging my budding relationship with Brooke, I had to make a bold move and push my chips all-in. It was my only play. I had to swallow my pride and fess up. As I climbed the stairs, nervous energy flowed through my arms and legs, leaving them heavy and limp. When I reached her door, I sucked in a deep, calming breath and knocked.

  A few seconds later, Brooke pulled the door open and my heart beat so hard and fast I thought I would collapse.

  Brooke looked incredible, and she wasn’t even trying. She wore a gray tank top and from the jiggle it was clear she had foregone the bra. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and a pair of tight black yoga shorts barely covered her voluptuous ass, revealing plenty of her long, creamy legs. Her green eyes flickered with nervous energy bordering on fear, and she gazed at me as if she’d seen a ghost. They were the telltale signs of a woman prepping for a tough conversation.

  I had never yearned for her more than in that moment. Why did women look their absolute hottest when they were out of reach? But rather than sulk, I stepped through her door and gazed down at her. “I’m glad you called.”

  She smiled nervously. “Come on in. I don’t think you’ve been inside my apartment before.”

  It was a one-room studio apartment with a separate bathroom. The kitchen gave way to a small love seat, flat screen TV, and a double-sized bed separated by one of those Japanese style folding walls. The place was well decorated and well-organized, with a slant toward Asian decor coupled with a few framed artifacts we had recovered from our various adventures throughout the Caribbean.

  “I love the place,” I said, fighting away the butterflies churning in my stomach. “I should turn you loose on my boat.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, clearly nervous.

  “Not right now,” I said. “Maybe after we talk.”

  She nodded and stepped past me. “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the love seat.

  I sat down on the love seat and Brooke took the space beside me, facing me with one foot curled beneath her.

  She gazed at me, looking both sensational and petrified, and nervously tucked a lock of her red hair behind her ear. “Trap, there are things I need to say.” She let out a deep breath.

  “Before you do,” I said. “Can you hear me out first?” I gazed into her big beautiful green eyes and my stomach flip turned.

  She gave me a nervous smile and a nod. “I’d like that.”

  I gazed at the floor, sucked in a deep breath, and returned my eyes to hers. “I talk a lot of crap.”

  A warm smile flickered across her face, and her shoulders seemed to relax even if fractionally.

  “I flirt with
you, and I hit on you constantly….” I held her gaze, and she stared at me, back straight, attention undivided. “God, you’re so beautiful.” My eyes watered and my chin quivered. I shook my head and my thoughts cratered. “I had this entire speech planned.” My eyes blurred and hot tears streaked my cheeks. I wiped them away with the back of my hand and tried to reel in my emotion. When I looked back up at her, tears stained her smooth, flawless face and her eyes glistened with moisture.

  “I love you,” I said, my voice raw with emotion. “I love you deep and I love you hard.” A nervous smile flickered involuntarily across my face, and I averted my gaze. “Why is this so hard?” I said to myself before meeting her gaze. “Those words aren’t easy for me, but they’re true and they come straight from my heart.”

  Brooke wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Trap, I —”

  I held up my hand, cutting her off. “Wait. Before you say anything, I had this made for you a long time ago.” I pulled the black jewelry box from my pocket. “When you see it, you’ll recognize it.” I opened the box and held it out for her to see.

  Brooke gasped, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at me and smiled. “Is that from —”

  “The African Bounty,” I said.

  The African Bounty was a trade ship that wrecked off the coast of Cuba in the 1700s. Two years ago, Brooke, Butch and I spent a week diving the wreck and pulled up enough antiquities to make our year. At the bottom of the ship, tucked away inside a rusty old safe, I found an emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds. Brooke had fallen in love with the piece. She poked and prodded me for the entire week, trying to get me to part with it. I told her I would sell it to her for a discount, but I hadn’t meant it.

  With trembling hands, she picked up the box and examined the pendant. “You added a gold chain?” Her voice came out raw and her chin quivered.

  I picked the pendant out of the box and held it up for her to see. “I spent a week with Jimmy Cain restoring it.”

  She laughed and wiped away her tears. “You didn’t.”

  Jimmy Cain was our unofficial jewelry expert and offered us cheap but accurate appraisals. He was also a raging asshole who smelled like rotten tuna. The guy loved hitting on Brooke, and she always dreaded going into his shop.

  I smiled at her. “From the moment you first laid eyes on that pendant, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it.”

  “Can I put it on?” she asked, smiling at me through her tears.

  “I’ll put it on for you,” I said.

  Brooke turned her back to me and lifted her hair off her neck.

  I leaned forward and placed the pendant around her neck, breathing in her fresh scent. An urge to kiss her neck swept through me and I pushed the thought away, before clasping the chain and letting it fall into place.

  Brooke turned around to face me, and her smile touched her eyes. “Thank you. I thought you sold it.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I fell in love with you on that trip. I never intended to sell it.”

  “Trap, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, while she gazed down at the pendant nestled in the curves of her cleavage.

  “I didn’t think you loved me that way,” I said.

  She let out a deep breath and picked up my hands. “I feel a lot better now.” She laced her fingers in mine and held my gaze. “I ended my engagement. It’s over with Logan.”

  My heart soared, and the weight of the world slipped from my shoulders. I let out a deep breath and sagged back into the couch, smiling. “I’m so sorry to hear it,” I said with absolutely no conviction in my voice.

  Brooke rolled her eyes and smiled. “Sure you are.”

  “I was positive you were getting ready to dump me.”

  “Dump you?” She asked in a tone of disbelief. “We did everything but have sex last night. I don’t do things like that casually. You know that about me.”

  “When you texted me and said we needed to talk, I assumed that was code for telling me to hit the road.”

  Brooke laughed and edged closer until our knees touched. She shook her head and nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “I needed to tell you that if you were interested in a casual fling, then I wasn’t your girl. If we do this, we do this for the long haul. You’re my guy, and I want to be your girl.”

  “But, Sam….”

  She smiled. “I understand what you have with Sam. I know it’s different from what you have with me. I don’t want us to lose her.”

  “Us? As in me, you, and Sam?”

  Brooke nodded. “As soon as I let go of my petty jealousy, I saw her for who she is. Sam is beautiful inside and out. What she’s offering to us is a gift that I want to explore together with you.” She squeezed my hands. “Will you be with me?” She asked, staring at me nervously.

  “I’ve waited forever to hear those words,” I said, completely relieved. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

  She picked up my hands and held them up playfully. “Do you know what else?” she asked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

  Her nipples hardened before me, straining the front of her tight gray tank. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “What?”

  “Would you like to be the man who helps me break the world’s longest dry streak?” She let go of my hands and reached for the bottom of my shirt.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and my legs turned to mush. “Right here?”

  “Unless you don’t want to.” She pulled my shirt up and off, revealing my smooth, muscled chest and toned abs. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

  My jaw dropped, and I laughed. “Brooke Fox. I can’t believe you.”

  “You think I haven’t wanted you to violate me in a million different ways?” She tossed aside my shirt and stood. “Don’t make me beg.”

  “I’m in,” I said, bouncing up from the couch and clapping my hands “It’s game time.”

  Brooke laughed and stepped closer, popping loose the button on my shorts. “How many times can you go in one night?”

  “As in my personal record?”

  Brooked nodded and pushed down my shorts, taking my briefs with them.

  My cock sprang free, already rigid and throbbing with anticipation.

  Brooke gazed down at my manhood, licked her lips, and grabbed hold, squeezing gently. “How many?”

  “Five,” I said.

  She smiled at me demurely and stroked my cock with a warm hand and tender touch. “Buckle up, big man. I hope you ate your Wheaties. We have a record to break.”

  My heart hammered with the anticipation of finally seeing and touching Brooke’s body in all its naked glory. With trembling hands, I gently tugged on the bottom of her tank top, guiding the gray cotton material over her flat stomach until her shirt met the resistance at the base of her glorious tits. “Arms up,” I said, my voice shaking with nervous energy.

  Reluctantly, Brooke let go of my cock and sat upright on her knees, facing me from her spot on the love seat. She smiled up at me and raised her arms over her head. “You look terrified,” she said as she tilted her head and frowned at me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m nervous and excited,” I said. “This is really happening.” I gave the tank top a tug, and it slipped over Brooke’s big tits, letting them spring free.