by 33 authors
* * *
Trevor plowed through his stack of electronic chips in short order in the online poker room. He leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, bored and listless. With the girls out of the house, the whole place seemed empty and too quiet. Voices floated through the floor. Maddie must have turned on a movie or something. Her picture scrolled across his screen in the slideshow he’d set up as his screensaver. Tiny lines now bracketed her eyes and she’d gained weight since the day of the photo, but he still wondered how he’d managed to land such a gorgeous wife.
The first time he’d seen her she’d been at the grocery store buying apples. She picked each one up and examined it, lips pursed and forehead crinkled. Tiny cut off shorts exposed every inch of her long, muscular legs, and wisps of hair stood out from a loose French braid. A tiny music note tattoo on her foot showed above the strap of her flip-flop. He’d strolled over and tried to be cool selecting apples next to her. She peeked at him and smiled when he moved in closer and bumped her hip before scooting to the side. A million pick up lines ran in circles through his head but choked him.
She moved away and started hunting through lettuce before he even managed to say hello. So he followed her over and picked up the vegetable and said the first thing that popped into his head.
“So, how do you pick a good head?”
She snorted, laughed, and asked him to dinner.
He missed her spontaneous laugh and the way her eyes lit up from the inside. She was such an amazing woman and she’d married him. Out of all the men she could have had. A new picture of her and the girls floated onto the screen and he traced her lips with his finger. Work and the daily grind took up so much of their time; each of them fell into bed at night exhausted. Sex had lost its luster and the fun of getting naked any time and place in the house was replaced by sneaking around hoping the kids didn’t catch them. The stretch marks on her belly, hips, and breasts from pregnancy bothered her; despite his assurance the scars didn’t bother him. She’d carried their children and took care of them all. Lines in her skin didn’t concern him.
The voices from the television rose and fell downstairs. He stood and headed for the stairs.
They were home alone for the whole weekend. No kids. No plans. Sitting alone on the computer or watching television made no sense at all. A sexy, beautiful woman was on his couch right now. His best friend and the person he loved most in the world aside from his children.
And he missed her.
* * *
Maddie flipped to yet another station on the television. More perfect, toned celebrity bodies filled the screen and she shifted on the couch, hyper aware of the circumference of her thighs and the roll of flesh around her middle. She’d gotten the mom pouch she’d always dreaded. No more bikinis on the beach for her. Regular exercise would help, but most days she found it hard to even roll out of bed. Her husband barely touched her anymore. And that bothered her more than the extra weight and stretch marks that’d turned her belly into a reminder of a certain horror film monster’s face. Bump-bump-bump. Each little indent of shiny scar tissue sent a sliver of disgust through her. She’d never regret her children... but a warning preview of what would happen to her tummy would have been nice.
The rhythmic thump of Trevor’s descent from above registered but she discarded it. He probably needed a drink and would hover in the doorway for a minute to ask what she was watching before running back up to his office. More irritation and annoyance flowed through her, along with a fair amount of depression. She couldn’t even pinpoint exactly what the depression was based on, only that she felt it. Was it him? Them? Life? The kids had been gone for all of an hour, and she missed them in a vague way. The emptiness in the house and her marriage were more pronounced without them around.
The whole thing reeked. Why the fuck hadn’t he set up a date night for them since the girls wouldn’t be home? Surprised her with flowers or ripped her clothes off in the kitchen the second his parent’s car cleared the driveway? Didn’t he want her anymore?
All her doubts and anger knotted into a cold pit of fury. The soles of her feet slapped on the wood floor and she catapulted to her feet.
Trevor stood with the refrigerator door open. His bare, hairy feet and legs the only thing she saw from her vantage point in the doorway between the kitchen and hall. The urge to kick him in the shins surged up and she clenched her fists. He leaned back and peered at her around the door, his green eyes swept her from head to toe and lines appeared between his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” The door shut with a quiet thump, the clink and rattle of condiment bottles resonated through the plastic and metal slab.
“This. Us. What the fuck Trevor?” She crossed her arms under her breasts and tears welled up in her eyes. “Our kids are gone. And what are we doing? I’m drinking alone watching reality TV and you’re upstairs playing poker or jacking off to internet porn or something.”
“I’m not jacking off to internet porn.” He spun and headed to the sink. The toy bus landed on the counter with a hollow clink. “Why’s this in here?”
“The kids let it in the foyer and spilled juice everywhere.” She glared at his back and fought with the desire to scream at him for everything she could think of. His lack of interest in her. Working too many hours, all the time, and not having anything tangible to show for it. Not helping around the house. Getting her pregnant and giving her stretch marks and then not wanting to have sex with her anymore. The way he chewed his food at dinner. The fact that the damn toy was dripping juice all over the counter and he wasn’t doing anything to clean it up. But none of it would come out. Instead it all hardened into a knot in her throat and hurt so bad tears welled up in her eyes. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me?”
“What?”
Her vision blurred and she stared at the floor.
The scuff of his socks on the floor got closer and put one hand on her waist. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Why…why don’t you like me anymore?” Giving voice to her fears didn’t help alleviate them. If anything, it made everything worse. All the buried emotions welled up and stabbed at her guts.
“Of course I like you Mads. Why would you think that? I thought you had your own thing going and wanted some alone time. Without the kids in your face.”
Yeah, she’d been bitching about that hadn’t she? First thing she said to him when he came through the door this evening. Had she become that person? That woman who dumped her entire day on her husband the second he came through the door?
“God, I’m sorry. I kinda tossed my verbal cookies on you when you got home, huh?” The scent of his body wash filled her nose as she moved in closer to his warmth and snuggled her nose into his sternum.
“A little bit. I know it’s hard, taking care of the kids like you do. I wish I were home more to help you.” The soft skin of his lips brushed her ear and goose bumps broke out on her arms.
“So be home more.” The old circular argument ran through her head, she knew what he’d answer before he opened his mouth.
They spoke at the same time. “We can’t afford it right now.”
The strong circle of his arms enfolded her and he stroked her back. “I’m sorry Maddie.”
* * *
The front of his shirt grew wet as she cried into his chest. Not a sound out of her. He hated that, the silent crying. He hated it even more than if she’d wailed and sobbed. It was like his wife held everything back but a trickle of emotion that made its way past some invisible dam inside her. She’d stood by him and supported him when he’d wanted to go back to school for a second degree, even though neither of them had paid off the loans from their first, and in a way he felt like he’d failed her. Having a college education didn’t guarantee an income, and the odds of success for a small business person were laughable.
And yet here she was, at his side.
He feathered his thumb over her lower back in a slow back and forth swish
across her T-shirt. The warmth of her body emanated through her clothing and enticed him to draw her even closer. The sweet scent of vanilla rose from her hair and he pressed his lips to the soft strands on the top of her head.
“Hey, you wanna go out for dinner?”
Her breasts shifted against his chest when she shuffled her feet. “No. I’d rather stay home tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”
The desire to fix this, to make her feel better consumed him. At least for tonight he could soothe her hurts. The stainless steel fronted refrigerator loomed behind her, but he knew after purveying the contents anything they had in the house needed to be cooked. “Okay. We can order in then. Mexican? Chinese? Pizza?”
“Mexican Chinese pizza? Never heard of it.” The circle of her arms tightened around his waist. “But there’s a first time for everything. It’s okay. I’ll cook. It’s not in the budget.”
“Actually I saved up some money for this weekend. Last couple pay periods I squirreled extra money away.”
Surprise and delight flowed across her features, but then the line of her mouth flattened out and frown lines creased her brow. “We shouldn’t do it. Every extra penny has to go to the debt. And the front door is screwed up. Something’s wrong with the hinges.”
“Babe. We’re cracking under the pressure of this. If we don’t keep it together, the door won’t matter.” He dropped his chin to his chest and met her gaze. “We need a break. A night off. And if spilled juice is gonna send you over the edge; I’d say we’re circling a field looking to make an emergency landing.”
The corner of her mouth pulled up in a weak smile. “It wasn’t just the juice. It’s…everything. All of this. And you were upstairs and I was all alone down here. Like I am all the time.”
“Look. Let’s order something to eat. And then we’re gonna sit down and talk about it. If you’re this upset, we have to figure something out.”
“Okay.”
He leaned down and caught the lush pink swell of her lips with his and nibbled on the lower one the way she liked. The soft curves of her body molded to his as she softened and sighed into his mouth. Arousal woke in the pit of his stomach and snaked its way toward his groin. Their tongues tangled in a slow mating, and she squirmed in even closer.
Faded denim stretched around his hand as he reached below her waistband and cupped her ass. The cool tile floor gave way to the worn carpet of the hallway as he backed her out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. Impatient to strip her clothes off and bury his cock inside her, he banged his toes on her shin.
She broke away from the kiss, lust clouding her eyes, and swallowed hard. “We have to figure this out. I can’t have sex with all these worries bouncing around in my head.”
“You’re quitting your job. The kids will be home with you instead of going to day care.” The door to their room stood ajar only three feet away, but it might as well have been a million miles.
* * *
The same old argument again, the one he kept pushing for. She’d never been a stay at home mom. The thought of it terrified her on some level. After paying for child care, she only cleared about three hundred dollars a month…three hundred dollars that they needed for groceries. But, the idea held appeal. Being at home would simplify their lives. Perhaps to the point of boredom for her, but she wouldn’t have to rush from work to picking the kids up at day care to home to make dinner and trying to clean the house. Just contemplating her daily schedule sent weariness flowing through her.
“And what are we going to do for grocery money?” The carpet fibers scratched at the soles of her bare feet.
Trevor sighed and touched his forehead to hers. “Mads, if we don’t get rid of some of the stress in this house, it won’t matter. We need to take care of our marriage. The groceries will work out. We’ll make it work. It’s only one year. Then the twins start kindergarten and you can find a job during the school day.”
“Yeah.” Doubt and fear swirled, but having him hold her close, supporting her, helped keep the worst of it at bay. He was right. Their marriage had hit a brick wall and was headed for life support if they didn’t start performing field surgery. Ending up divorced scared her more than quitting her job. “Maybe I can become one of those extreme coupon ladies.”
“Hey, if you think it’ll help, I’m all for it.” He squished her in a brief hug. “There’s lots of places we can cut expenses. I bet we can find a couple hundred bucks in the budget if we try hard enough.”
A knot of tension she’d carried for so long she’d stopped noticing it loosened and eased. Shaky breaths passed her lips and she shivered. “Wow. So that’s it, huh?”
He grinned and twin dimples appeared his cheeks. “That’s it.”
“Hmmm.” Wow. This was crazy. Madison Guthries, stay at home mom. She turned the phrase over in her head, trying it on and attempting to reconcile it with the perception she had of herself. All the preconceptions she had about being unemployed, being a homemaker bounced around and collided with each other.
Things were going to be tight for them. Tighter than she was comfortable with. But more than anything material, she wanted to stay married. “We can cancel the cable. And the home phone. No one calls it anyway. That’s like, a hundred fifty a month right there.”
The wide pads of his fingertips skimmed the skin of her lower back and he kissed her forehead. “Yep. And I’ll sell the bike. That’ll bring in a nice chunk of change too.”
“No. No way. I won’t let you.” Hair flew into her eyes from the force of her emphatic head shake. “You love your motorcycle. And who knows when we’ll have money for you to buy another if you do that.”
“I never ride it anymore.” He cupped her cheek in one palm and traced the rim of her ear with his forefinger. “Besides, we both gotta make sacrifices. I know how much you love your job. Things are gonna turn around for us, I know it.”
“I hope so.” With the decision made, weight lifted from her and a sense of anticipation grew. Having a focus and place to put her energy without feeling like a hamster stuck on a wheel to nowhere dissolved the acid eating at her gut. The stubble on the back of his neck poked her hand. She went on tip toe and mashed her lips to his in a short, hard kiss. “Wanna have sex in the stairwell?”
“Hell yes.”
She spun on the ball of her foot, giddy anticipation racing around and zinging through her veins. Apprehension battled with excitement. Huge life changes were hard, but the idea they had a plan for their future that might relieve some of the stress on their marriage gave her hope.
Creaks emanated from the steps as they raced up to somewhere around the middle of the stairwell. Strong fingers bit into her hips and she stopped, held still in her husband’s grasp.
“Everything will be okay, right Trev?”
He nuzzled the back of her neck and nipped at the flesh with his teeth. “Absolutely.”
She held her right hand up; little finger extended, and peeked at him over her shoulder. “Pinkie swear?”
A huge grin spread across his face and he caught the appendage with his own little finger. “Pinkie swear.”
They kissed, slow, deep, and long. A kiss to reclaim their love, and to chart the way to something new, deeper, and more mature. A kiss to cement promises for the future, and help to smooth the way over the coming challenges.
~~~
Jennifer James likes to pretend her dishes and laundry will do themselves, the children will be fed by the force of her telepathic powers, and coffee will provide enough sustenance for her to never leave her desk. Alas, it's all in her head. You can find her on the web at http://www.authorjenniferjames.com
BLUSH
Angela Yseult
Tonight, Cathy and Matthew are fulfilling a promise they made to each other. They’re sharing a bottle of champagne, toasting with every sip the small events that peppered the first year of their friendship. Cathy, though, wishes it could become more than friendship. Maybe tonight..?
~~~
&nbs
p; The party was dubbed an ‘anti-prom.’ I thought it was pretty darn ironic seeing how it was specifically scheduled to take place a week after the actual prom so people who wanted to go to both could do so. Then again, my entire junior year of high school had felt like a giant, unending bucket of irony, so that was pretty much par for the course.
I didn’t go to prom. When my parents asked me why not, I made this excuse about wanting my senior prom to be more unique. Truth was, no one had asked me, and the one person I might have considered asking to go with me—if I’d suddenly overcome all my self-worth issues—had made it clear he wasn’t interested in going. He’d been the one to tell me about the anti-prom.
He hadn’t technically invited me there as his date, he’d just been passing the information on to me as well as a few other people. Still, I liked to think he’d been smiling a bit more widely when he’d told me than when he’d told the others. Also, it might not be a date, but we still had plans for that night, something we’d promised each other we’d share when the occasion presented itself.
His name was Matthew. He was my best friend. I really hoped by the time our senior prom rolled around he’d be more than that. I even had some crazy, feeble hopes the ‘something more’ might start that very night.
One of his friends, Axel, was throwing the party. I knew him from hanging out with Matthew, but not really much more than that. Matthew had so many friends, it was hard to keep track of them all.
I didn’t know what to expect until I got there. Not to mention getting lost twice on the way because I trusted Matthew’s hand-drawn map and refused to ask Google Maps to get me there. I’d imagined a large house or even a mansion capable of hosting the hundred plus guests Matthew had said might come. Instead, when I turned onto the beaten-earth driveway, my car’s headlights flashed over a sign that read, ‘Moonlight Stables Riding Camp.’
