“Oh, and the punishment is brutal. A hot, sweaty night with a monster who won’t leave you alone.” His tongue traveled along the arch of her right ear. “I’m gonna make you come—”
“So Tyler’s mom’s staying for dinner,” Gretchen interrupted him with a tease.
Trace dropped his arms and stopped the kissing.
“She’ll be here in a few minutes. I was so excited when she offered to pick up the girls from school.” Gretchen continued to chop the vegetables, ignoring Trace’s heavy-handed come-on.
“That was nice. What a surprise, I’ll bet,” Trace lied.
“She’s very much that way. My mom and dad don’t get up here much at all, so she’s kind of adopted them.”
His boner was killing him.
“Honey, you sure, if we’re really fast, we couldn’t just have a quickie before the whole house explodes in family? Just a quickie?” he whispered to her ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Trace…” She tried to shrug him off. “Would you get that banana out of my butt crack?”
Trace dropped his arms again and stopped kissing her, a little deflated. He knew she was preparing a dinner they’d never eat, so of course he wanted to distract her. But he just had to keep the ruse up for a few more minutes. Gretchen was right, but he didn’t have to like the reality of it.
“Fine. I look forward to meeting Tyler’s mom,” he pouted.
Gretchen put the vegetables into a stir-fry pan and left the burner off. She washed her hands with lemon soap and then finally faced him.
“Okay, Romeo. I need you to behave. Watch your language. She’s going to be making some evaluations, and she’ll give me her opinion, whether I like it or not. I told her you were on the same Team as Tyler. I don’t want any awkward moments at the dinner table.”
“Promise,” he said with his hand over his heart. “You sure we don’t have time for that quickie?”
She let out a soft giggle. “I’m sorry about the possibility of your clothing malfunction. You’re going to have to hold it a little bit longer.”
He stepped forward, pulling her to him. “I’d like you to hold it a little bit longer.” He placed her hand over the buttons on his crotch and squeezed.
“Impressive, but nothing, not even a boner the size of Oscar Mayer, will talk me into getting caught doing the dirty with you when Mrs. Gray arrives with my two girls. Nothing. Maybe you should take a cold shower?”
“Man, you’re tough.”
“Some things are non-negotiable.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She stroked his length, purring like a kitten. “You know that song, Anticipation?”
“Don’t stop squeezing.”
“Making me wait…”
“Harder.”
“Think of it as long—” she rubbed up and down, “—very long foreplay.”
“Don’t stop. I think I dropped something down there, and I can’t reach it.”
Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her red lips an inch from his. He could feel the warmth of her breath as she whispered, “It will be worth it. I promise.”
And then they kissed.
The back door swung wide, and the handle hit the opposite wall, increasing the size of the already existing divot in the sheetrock. Rebecca came skipping in, followed by her older sister. Both the girls had bright smiles and were carrying an overnight case and sheaves of paper.
They must not have noticed that their mother’s hand was being led down the front of his pants. Clover blurted out, “Mrs. Gray’s going to give us a painting lesson. And she’s staying overnight!”
Tyler’s mom followed behind. Rebecca ran upstairs with the bag while Clover set the papers down on the table.
“Not there! It’s set for dinner, Clover. Put it in the living room.”
Heather Gray had a handsome face, salt and pepper long hair pulled into a bun. She wore bright clothes in layers. Her steady eyes examined Trace carefully as she approached in a straight line, full of focus.
“You must be Trace. Nice to meet you. I’m Heather Gray, Tyler’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you.” He tried not to smile too much at the conspiracy he’d created.
Her handshake was firm, and she didn’t linger. It was an honest shake. “Forgive me, but, Trace, what’s that in your back pocket? Something’s sticking out.”
Trace had forgotten the red bra and panties. He yanked them quickly and gave them to Gretchen, who discretely stowed them in her apron.
“I was doing laundry this afternoon.” He didn’t elaborate further and hoped he didn’t have to.
Gretchen had begun to turn bright red. Mrs. Gray nodded in recognition. “So you guys are off, then?”
Trace watched Gretchen’s expression change from embarrassment to pure surprise.
“Off? I think you got mixed up. I’m making dinner.” Gretchen’s eyes swept between Mrs. Gray and Trace. “And—and the girls said you’re staying overnight?” She focused on Trace, a wrinkle denting her flawless forehead. “Um, we’re kind of filled up here, but maybe, if Trace can sleep on the couch, I can give you Clover’s room.” She’d been looking to Trace to give her a hand.
Mrs. Gray smiled like the wise elder she was. “I think you two better have a little talk. I’ll just be upstairs with the girls. We’ll be down in a few minutes after you’ve had your chat, okay?”
Gretchen’s eyes were huge. She cocked her head. “Trace, what’s going on?”
He was enjoying her confusion. He backed up as she came for him, keeping the distance between them more than arm’s length. “I want to know what’s going on? What have you done?”
He continued to walk backward as they circled the dining table. “Well, I took the liberty of changing our plans for this evening, and Mrs. Gray said she’d help.”
“Change of plans?”
“I booked us a room at the Grover House. And we have reservations at McKinnon’s brewpub within walking distance. I thought a nice dinner, just the two of us, and a hotel stay was in order.”
“How long have you known about this?”
She still wasn’t smiling, and now it started to bother him.
“I planned it today. While you were running those errands and left me in the car.” He stopped moving, and Gretchen reached him, at last. He held her wrists, kissed her palms, and then positioned her arms over his shoulder. “The only choice you have to make is to pick out something to wear tomorrow. We already know you’re going to wear that red set tonight, right?”
A smile crept to her lips. Her sparkling eyes and rapid breathing showed her approval of the project he’d planned.
“You’re a very clever guy, Mr. Bennett. A little devious, but very clever.”
“Oh, you’ve only seen a small sampling of my arsenal. I can get very creative. The nice thing about this plan is you can make all the noise you want, Gretchen. Now go get your clothes. We don’t want to be late for dinner, do we?”
Chapter 17
McKinnon’s was packed by the time they’d checked into their room and then walked down the rain-drenched street to the brew house. The windows were steamy, and inside, the strong scent of hops and sawdust on the floor added to the ambience of the muggy interior. Gretchen knew Trace would like it.
A duo of guitarists played folk music in the corner.
“How did you decide to come here?” she asked.
“Recommendation by the hotel. I wanted some place where I didn’t have to drive. Thought it would be more romantic.”
He was right. “I can see how you’d think the smell of beer would be romantic.” She winked at him. He grabbed her waist as they were led to their table.
Trace looked over the menu. “No tofu, no bean sprouts or smoothies. I thought Portland was Hippie Central.”
“We do have the folk music, but up here, we have a lot of plaid flannel shirts. Where guys hunt and fish and work outside all d
ay, they like their barbeque.”
What Trace had noted was the fact that there was either pork or beef in ribs or pulled, potatoes, fresh baked bread slathered with butter, no vegetables, and about thirty varieties of beer. It was a man’s menu and not for someone on a diet. She knew he was in Heaven, because he had a hard time making up his mind.
After they ordered, he slipped to the seat next to her. “I’m not going to hear a word you’re saying across the table.” He gave her a gentle peck on the cheek.
“So what do you think of our fair city?” she asked.
“Interesting. Very different from San Diego. Reminds me of some of the coastal towns back east. Maybe Boston. A little like San Francisco, too, with all the hills.” He toasted her, took a long drag off his beer, and smiled. “I can see why you like it. Just a tad cold for me.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve been to Norfolk before. You get some cold, cold winters there. We hardly ever get snow here.”
“True. But now that I’m in Southern California, boy, I love it.” He paused to study his beer. “You ever visit there?”
“Yes, I’ve been down to see Kate and Tyler. I’m still a tourist,” she answered. She knew he was going to extend an invitation before he said anything at all.
“Best thing to do is to see it through the eyes of someone who lives there. Only been there a few months, but I know all the great spots. And every day it’s a pleasant surprise when I find new things I love about it. I’m happy as a clam there.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’ll give you a good time, if you come down and visit. Bring the girls, too, if you want. We’ve got the zoo, Sea World, all sorts of things.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like a walking commercial.”
Trace shrugged and dropped the invite. “So tell me what you do in Portland that’s fun.”
“I can tell you don’t hang around a lot of mothers of three daughters, Trace. It’s just like today, dropping kids off, parent-teacher conferences, ballet, piano lessons, soccer, and volleyball. My day is busy just doing things with or for the girls. That pretty much consumes all my time.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Any space in there for anyone else? Other than vacation, I mean?”
She felt the brakes come on inside. Gretchen wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed, and she became cautious.
He sat up, still holding her hand, but sighed and examined their fingers entwined. “I’m sorry if I come on too strong. I do that. I work that way. I play that way.”
“Don’t feel bad, Trace. You’ve spent your last few years on a SEAL Team, doing God knows what. I’ve never been alone. I never get any chance to think about anything, I’m so busy. I’m mom, dad, and taxi driver to those girls. What I want is something I don’t have the luxury of thinking about.”
The dinner arrived, and they ate in silence. The happy mood that had started their date had now dwindled. They kept their discussion to small talk, and Trace didn’t make much eye contact. She thought perhaps he was having second thoughts about the whole evening.
On the way back to the hotel, she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. The rain stopped just long enough to get them to the front porch. Inside the old Victorian living room, couples sat by the fireplace. Several others were at the bar. He asked her if she wanted to have a drink, and she declined. It was all polite, and something was definitely wrong.
Inside their room, she sat on the edge of the bed and asked him, “What’s going on with you, Trace? Did I say something wrong?”
He hung up his pea coat and washed his hands in the antique lavie. With the towel still in his hands, he faced her, but again didn’t make eye contact. “I guess I was just realizing something I hadn’t seen before.”
“And that is?”
He returned the towel to the bathroom and then sat in a high-backed armchair by the dormered window, bent over, and placed his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “You’re probably going to take this the wrong way, Gretchen. I’m sorry for that, but I’m going to say it, anyway, because I believe we have to be honest with each other.”
Gretchen felt her stomach clench up as she held her breath. She had no idea what was coming next. She felt her blood pressure rise. “Go on. I’m a big girl. I can probably handle anything you can say to me.”
He smiled to his hands. “Yup. I suppose you’re right.”
She knew it was the right thing to just wait until he got ready to do it on his terms, but she felt he was going to tell her he wasn’t sure their relationship had a future. And that would be okay. She hadn’t been looking for that, either. She’d told herself over and over again that it would happen when it was right. Perhaps this just wasn’t right.
Trace looked up at her, and she saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before. He had taken off the mask, and she saw real pain there. She resisted the urge to run over to him and mother him.
“What did you realize, Trace? I want to hear it.”
“I liked being married, but Shayla broke my heart. I was devoted to her, but in the end, I wasn’t enough for her. She left me before she physically did leave. She was looking, and I never picked up on it. Never saw it coming.”
“That’s horrible.”
“No. It’s not. She did what she needed to do, and I’m glad she did, because although I thought we were happy, we really weren’t. We could have spent even more years pretending to have a life. Hell, I wouldn’t have known the difference. I mean, if a person can fool you into thinking they love you and then they walk out—I mean, we never argued. And I didn’t even put up a fight to keep her. I just let her go.”
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe you were logical about it. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
She studied his face. Was he asking her something or making a statement? She couldn’t read what was going on inside him.
“I think what scares me is that I liked it, being married. I’ve not had a serious relationship since. I’m afraid I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
“What do you mean? What sort of thing?”
“You know, I wanted someone who could feel for me like I felt for her. And man, that sounds twisted and sick. But I don’t want to be a secondary character. I want to be prime time. And you—”
She felt hot tears well up.
“You are devoted—have to be devoted—to your daughters. Just listening to you talk about the girls and your life, I don’t think there is anything left over for anyone else. You’re being a great mom and a great role model. It’s unfair of me to even think of inserting myself into that life or, worse yet, taking you away from all that. It would be like you asking me to leave the Teams.”
He was right, of course. Maybe they’d jumped in too deep too fast. Now that they were looking at themselves honestly, there was more to what they really wanted than just great sex. She saw that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to be the woman he needed, like it would be nearly impossible for him to be the kind of man she and her girls wanted. If she was single, it would be totally different. But she wasn’t. She had three girls, and they had as much say as she did in the matter.
But as she examined her insides, another thought occurred to her.
“Don’t you think two people can have a relationship and still be fully devoted to other things? Other family members or careers like yours? Not other life partners, but isn’t there a part of us that admires the devotion it takes to do what I do, to do what you do?
He was silent, and then he nodded. “Gretchen, you’re a wise woman. That fits. That’s who we are. We have that in common.”
Rain started misting outside, getting heavier and heavier until it was pouring. Trace closed the window to stop the sill from getting wet. She scanned the beautiful, antique-furnished room, the happy surprise he sprung on her where they could talk, have dinner together, and anticipate a night of wonderful sex. He’d planned it all out and did it for both of them. It was a beautiful gesture a
nd not to be wasted, though perhaps there wasn’t that silver lining or sunshine on the other side of the mountain.
She’d made a decision.
She walked to the chair, grasping his hands in hers, motioning for him to stand up. She placed her palms on his chest then felt the sandpaper sides of his leathery face. Saw the pain in his eyes and felt the beating of his heart.
“I have a suggestion, Trace. See if this will work for you. Let’s pretend for this one night that we are both new at love. Let’s pretend we’ve never been married, hurt, or had children. Let’s pretend for tonight that this one evening will be perfect. Tomorrow, it doesn’t have to mean anything. We don’t have to analyze it or understand its meaning. Let’s just pretend that no one has ever hurt us before, that the slate has been wiped clean.”
His hands came to her face as he lifted her chin and bent down to kiss her. A second before his lips touched hers, he murmured, “I can do that. If you’ll help me.”
The kiss was long and unhurried. She explored all the colorful emotions the touch of his mouth on hers brought. She imagined pictures of places she’d never seen before and felt the lightness in her chest as he slipped his fingers around to the back of her head and sifted through her hair. He was a brick wall, solidly packed so hard that the tenderness in his kiss, his fingers, and how he held her in his fragile way moved her. She could help him by going the rest of the distance, meeting him in the middle. He melted the layers of self-preservation and caution. He turned her bones to rubber with each kiss.
Their kissing became a slow disrobing, clothes strewn where they lay. Only her red bra and panties were left on her. She stepped closer to touch the length of his body, felt his powerful thighs and tight butt, let her fingers travel over the scars of his life’s work. And although he’d wanted her to wear the set, she decided she didn’t even want the barrier of the thin silky fabric between them. She slipped out of her panties and removed her bra, presenting herself to him completely naked. She wasn’t one of the pinup girls in the magazine. She had a woman’s body, had borne three children, carried scars the same as he, because this was her life’s work. But she would give him that body honestly.
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