by Avery Flynn
Last night, he had touched and caressed her in a way that made her forget everything. That was the kind of intimacy she missed between them—the slow build up, the soft kisses and gentle touches. She wanted more of it, but she also didn’t want to skip ahead and ruin things. Sex wouldn’t fix their problems, and maybe it was best they eased back into that part of their relationship. Besides, she was having fun just dating her husband again.
“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing sitting alone?”
Jules glanced up to find a tall, attractive man smiling down at her. He looked harmless enough, so she returned it with a polite one of her own.
“My husband just went to get me a drink. He’ll be back soon.”
The man took the seat Mason had just vacated and sidled close beside her. “Then I’m sure he won’t mind me keeping you company for a bit.”
She frowned and inched away from him. What the hell is his deal?
“My name’s Baron. It’s nice to meet you, Miss…”
Jules stared down at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. “It’s Mrs. Courage. And you may want to get up from my husband’s seat.”
Baron let his hand drop, but the grin on his dark brown face remained firmly in place. It was as she was talking to air.
“So, you’re the hockey coach’s beauty queen. I thought it was you.” He gave her a thorough once-over. “You’re a lot prettier in person.”
Her lips curled in disgust. “Whatever you’re trying to do here is a waste of time. Now go away.”
“Whoa. I’m just trying to be nice.”
“Stop trying and just leave.”
Baron appeared surprised, yet intrigued by her clipped words. “Pretty and cold-blooded. I like that.” He leaned forward and said close to her ear. “Why don’t you give me a chance to melt some of that ice?”
“Get the fuck away from my wife.”
They both jumped at Mason’s harsh words. But when the man didn’t move fast enough, Mason slammed their drinks down on the small table and took a step forward.
Baron jumped up and quickly backed away. “Chill, man. I’m leaving.”
Jules watched him leave, then blew out the breath she held, grateful things hadn’t escalated. Mason fell into the seat beside her, his gaze still locked in the direction the man had disappeared. From the hard set of his jaw, she could tell he was still angry.
“Mason—”
“What did he say to you?”
“It’s not important.”
His head swung around, and she studied his hard expression, noting the way his eyes moved over her. She couldn’t tell who he was upset with—the man or her? She had a sinking feeling it was the latter.
“Jules, tell me what he said.” Suddenly, his glare magnified and he regarded her closely. “Or did you like the attention you were getting?”
She gaped at him, stunned by the accusation. Her astonishment, however, swiftly turned into outrage.
“Why the hell would you think I’d want attention from that jerk? Or from any guy, for that matter?”
“It hasn’t stopped you before, has it?” he snapped. “It’s because you felt you weren’t getting enough attention that we’re even in this place.”
Jules fixed him with a sharp glare of her own. Telling him about that night she had gone to dinner alone had been a mistake. She hadn’t sought out or invited the attention, but none of that mattered. It obviously still bothered him. No matter what she said, he would always hold that against her.
Jules swallowed her hurt and clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling. “You’re an asshole for taking what I told you and throwing it back in my face. And you’re an even bigger asshole for thinking I wanted that creep to brag about how hot he could make me.”
She was pleased that she had managed to keep her voice calm and even. His expression, however, went from barely concealed anger to white-hot rage.
“He said what?”
Before she could react, he jumped to his feet. Jules immediately started after him. She reached him just in time to yank him to a halt.
“Mason, stop! You’re not going to embarrass me any more by starting a damn fight.” From the heads turning in their direction, it was probably too late. “Since you and that jerk managed to ruin what should have been a great night, I’d like to go home now.”
7
Mason wanted to get this session over with.
The tension between him and Jules had steadily grown stronger these past few days. From Dr. Kahn’s measured looks, it was clear could see it too.
“Why don’t we begin by discussing how your week went?”
Mason sat stiffly in his seat, not saying a word. She could obviously see that their week had been crap, so why bother answering? Seeing his wife so close to that man the other night had only made him think about what she had told him and how close she had come to ruining their marriage. Could she blame him for being pissed that she had allowed that bastard to sit so close to her?
Apparently she did, because she sat there just as tense and silent as him.
Dr. Kahn patiently waited a few more minutes before she asked, “Were you two able to go on that date, like I suggested?”
She stared at Mason directly, so he answered. “Yes.”
“And how did it go?”
“Fine.” Jules scoffed, and Mason gritted his teeth. “In the beginning, anyway. Things started off great, then…”
Dr. Kahn looked at her then back to him. “What happened after?”
“Then we got into an argument.”
“What started it?”
Mason frowned, remembering the sly grin on the man’s face, the way he had leaned into her. He also remembered the clear, even words that had gutted him.
Not because I wanted him, but because I wanted to hurt you.
The sharp pain of her admission still carried enough strength to pierce through him. He had tried to shake off his anger and pain, but they still stayed with him. Sulking just beneath the surface.
As if sensing his discomfort, Dr. Kahn turned to Jules. “What was the argument about?”
“He thought I was flirting with another man,” Jules said tersely.
Dr. Kahn raised a brow. “Were you?”
“Of course not,” Jules said forcefully. “I did nothing to encourage that man, yet he believes that I did. He should know me better than that.”
“I thought I did,” he barked.
Jules whipped around to face him, and Mason returned her glare.
“Mason, what made you think your wife was flirting with this man?” Dr. Kahn asked.
“Because she’s done it before,” he said, not tearing his eyes from Jules’.
“You can’t keep throwing that back in my face.”
“Because you would rather I forget what you almost did? What you said you wanted to do?”
She drew her brows together. “So is this how it’s going to be between us from now on? Me defending myself to you every time a guy makes a pass at me?”
“What the hell did you expect? You tell me you want to cheat on me and I’m supposed to be okay with that? How the hell am I supposed to trust you after that?”
Her eyes became luminous, and there was immense regret and sadness in them. He couldn’t stand seeing her upset, and turned back to Dr. Kahn, who was quickly jotting down notes.
“How recent was this affair?”
“I didn’t have an affair,” Jules said tightly.
“Just because sex wasn’t part of the outcome doesn’t mean you weren’t involved in an emotional affair,” Dr. Kahn explained.
“It wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t build some kind of deep emotional connection with that man. I just...” She looked down at her tightly clasped hands. “I should have never told him. It was stupid.”
“But you did tell him. Why?”
Mason sat forward, wanting to know why too. Not that it would change anything. She had already managed to tear his heart
out and crush it in her palm. Now he just needed to understand what she had hoped to gain by it.
“I thought if I told him about that moment, he would see how hurt and angry I was to even think of doing something like that. And I hoped he would understand why I thought it was best we dissolve our marriage before it ever got that far.” She brought her fingers to her temple, and there was a slight tremor in them. “But I see now that it only made it worse, and now I’ve lost his trust.”
“Mason, how do you feel now that you know why your wife admitted this to you?”
“Still angry.” Still hurt.
“Just angry?”
He clenched his jaw, sensing the rigidity in Jules as she waited for his response. He wished Dr. Kahn would just move on or offer some damn solution already. Rehashing how he felt wasn’t doing anything to diminish his anger or pain.
“Mason, it will help if you told your wife exactly how you feel.”
“You heard her. She wanted to hurt me, and she did.”
Jules turned to him. “I’m sorry.” A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and she promptly wiped it away.
He swallowed the lump building in his throat, not sure how to respond to that. He was still upset, but she was his wife. The love of his life. No matter what, he had vowed he wouldn’t give up on them.
Dr. Kahn slid a box of tissues toward Jules, and she reached for one. Mason kept his gaze trained on the therapist.
“It looks like you both are hurting from this, which in some ways is a good thing, because it means you still love each other. But it almost means you have to earn back each other’s trust.”
“I would never cheat on my husband,” Jules said quietly, her voice husky with suppressed tears. “That’s not me. I’m not the type of person who takes pleasure in seeing others in pain. I don’t know why I thought hurting my husband would make me feel better.”
“It’s natural to want to hurt the person you believed wronged you,” Dr. Kahn said. “In fact, that’s how many infidelities start. I’m glad you two sought help before it could escalate that far. Now, Mason, I understand you’re still angry and hurt, but do you want your marriage to work?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Dr. Kahn pursed her lips, and he instantly regretted his sharp retort.
“Yes, I want our marriage to get better,” he said.
“Then you’ll need to begin letting go of your anger and start being more receptive to your wife’s pain.”
He had no trouble there. He felt her pain even now, and it made it difficult for him not to reach for her.
“I want you two to turn and face each other.”
They did as instructed. When Mason glanced back at Dr. Kahn in anticipation of her next instruction, she gestured for him to turn back around with a quick roll of her finger.
He turned back to his wife and immediately noticed the moisture that glistened at the corner of her eye. Instinctively, he wiped at it with the pad of his thumb. Before he could pull back, she took his hand and held it.
“Now, for just a few minutes,” Dr. Kahn said gently, “I want you to look into each other’s eyes.”
Forgetting the therapist sitting only a few feet across them, Mason kept his gaze locked on his wife. He allowed himself to get lost in the warm depths of her gold-tinted eyes. The lingering anger that had festered in his gut began to cool. In its place bloomed a deeply intense connection. One he couldn’t name, but left him raw with emotion.
Memories of all the times they had made love, the times they had laughed or found solace in each other’s arms, the times they had held their babies for the first time. Those moments of their lives together were what surfaced as he continued to lose himself in her.
“Now, I want you to think about what makes you feel most loved when you’re together.”
Dr. Kahn’s words penetrated his haze of emotions. He blinked, still gathering himself as he considered his response.
“Jules?”
“I love it when you spend time with me,” Jules said quietly. “And I mean real time, like we used to. Without distractions.”
“Mason? What is something Jules does that make you feel loved?”
“When she looks at me like this.” He turned to face Dr. Kahn. “With love and affection. No judgment or resentment.”
Jules squeezed his hand. “I do love you, Mason.”
“All right,” Dr. Kahn said. “I want you both to remember this, because for the next few weeks, I want you to get in the habit of connecting with each other. Physically connecting, and I don’t just mean sex. It can be as simple as staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, or hugging.”
Mason glanced at his wife. “I think we can manage that, yeah?”
Jules nodded, her expression softening.
“Good. Try to set aside at least ten minutes a day to do it. Preferably in the mornings. This can help set the tone for the rest of your day.”
They both nodded.
“Also, it’s easy to get caught up in each other’s mistakes and transgressions, so be sure to acknowledge whenever one of you does something that makes you happy.”
“Easy enough.”
“And lastly—”
“Should we take notes?” Mason asked.
Jules giggled, and Dr. Kahn threw him a sidelong scowl for the interruption. It was worth it to hear his wife laugh.
“Lastly, I want you two to set up regular date nights with each other. At least once a month. And when you pick the date, treat it like your sacred time.”
“Come on, baby. Back to bed.”
Jules helped Madison back into bed and under the covers. She noticed Mason had again flipped the mattress and changed the sheets for her. She hadn’t expected him to still be up when their daughter had come in search for her, but was grateful for the assistance in handling another bedwetting incident.
Once Madison was comfortably settled, she instantly fell asleep. Jules left the bedroom and quietly made her way down to the laundry room, and was surprised to find Mason there, fiddling with the control panel. This was probably the first time she had seen him attempting to use a washing machine in the three years they had lived here.
“Why do they make these so complicated?” he muttered as he examined the many dials and buttons closely.
Jules bit back a smile and pulled him away from the machine. “Shoo. Before you break something.” She threw Madison’s soiled pajamas in with her wet sheets.
“When did we get a new washer?”
“We got it last month when the other one gave out on us.” She shut the lid, selected the express cycle, and in seconds had the washing machine running.
“Why didn’t I know that?”
“You had a lot going on last month with the playoffs. I didn’t want you to feel like I was complaining about every little thing.”
“I wouldn’t have felt that way, Jules.”
She shrugged. By that time, they had been arguing so much it had felt like just one more thing they could have found a reason to bicker about.
“How’s Madison?”
“Dry and back in bed.” She paused, remembering Dr. Kahn’s counsel that morning. “Thanks for changing her bedsheets. And attempting to do the laundry.”
He nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?”
“No. She’s had a checkup and everything’s fine. It could just be hereditary. Gennie wet the bed at that age, and she grew out of it.”
Worry still creased his brow, and his concern over something so ordinary in kids Madison’s age made her want to hug him. Dr. Kahn’s suggestions about connecting suddenly echoed in her head, and Jules realized that if she wanted to hug her husband then she should.
She looped her arms around his waist and held him close. “She’s fine, Mason,” Jules muttered, enjoying the way his hard chest pressed against her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
He wrapped his
arms around her, and they stayed like that for some time. She pressed her ear against his bare chest and could make out the slow thud of his heartbeat. That soft, steady sound reminded her of just how close she had come to breaking it.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she murmured.
He stilled, then tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry I hurt you, too.”
They held each other for a few minutes longer, and the heat from his strong body made her tingle all over. A familiar bulge began to press against her belly, and her breasts grew heavy in response. It was soon followed by a dull ache between her legs.
She pulled back and peered up at him. His deep blue eyes were filled with blatant need, and she realized then that she wanted more than just a hug. She wanted her husband to touch her, to fill her with his hard length.
And it was clear he wanted that too.
Without a word, he pulled away from her and went to shut the door. She tugged off her robe, and he made it back to her side just in time to catch it before it fell to the floor. He spread the soft material over the washing machine, then grabbed her around the waist and set her on top of it.
Flustered by his swift movements, she flattened her palms against his hard chest. His muscles flexed beneath her fingers as he fitted himself between her legs, and she knew then that was right where she wanted him. But instead of pulling off her nightgown, as she expected, he wrapped his hand behind her neck and brought his lips down to hers.
The taste of him brought on a burning desire that seared her to her core. Jules clutched his shoulders, her fingernails digging into him as she returned his kiss with the same fervent need.
He tore his lips from hers and trailed his warm, damp lips along her neck. Her pulse raced from the slow, light caress.
“You smell good,” he murmured, continuing to nuzzle her throat and gently suck on her sensitive skin.
She smoothed her palms over his firm chest and down to his lean sides. She stopped when she reached the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down. His hard, long shaft bobbed out of his pants and jutted eagerly toward her.
