I had to be standing in the middle of the fucking Twilight Zone. It was the only thing that made sense. Crazy hair-pulling wives, a smirking billionaire, Italian, and horny adults behaving like teens wasn’t normal. What ever happened to normal?
Maybe this is the new normal?
Or maybe I was the weird one.
* * *
‘Hey!’ I hollered to the kid who had wandered to the far corner of the pool. ‘What are you doing by yourself over there? No single dwellers.’
The kid lifted his hand to his head, shielding the sun from his eyes as he looked up at me. ‘What? Me? I’m just looking for a ring, Mr Jones. William tossed it over here somewhere.’ Liar! You’re looking to make your bladder gladder.
‘I can’t see a ring.’
‘Neither can I. That’s why I’m looking.’
‘Dude,’ Derek said, handing me a beer. ‘Ease up on the piss patrol. You won’t stop it. I bet my left nut they’re all sharing it around as we speak.’
‘You don’t have a left nut,’ Bryce added as he stopped next to us.
I laughed, although I wasn’t really in a laughing mood. ‘Well, do me a favour and don’t tell Tash about the pissy waters. My head is already on the chopping block.’
Bryce clapped my back. ‘What’d ya do? Tell her she’s too thin? Apparently that will do it.’
‘No. I don’t comment on how she looks at all. BIG mistake. That’s one you never win.’
Bryce pointed his beer at me. ‘You’re funny.’
‘Why’s that funny?’
‘Hang on a minute. You never comment on how she looks?’
‘No. It’s safer that way.’
Derek threw his arm around my shoulder. ‘Deano, Deano, Deano. There’s no such thing as safer. No wonder you’re in the dog house.’
‘Of course there is. If you say nothing at all, nothing bad will happen.’
Bryce smirked over the lip of his beer. ‘Wrong. When silent, a woman is her deadliest.’
‘Deadliest? What do you mean?’ I knocked back my beer, now feeling a little uneasy.
‘If you’re quiet, they’re quiet. And when they’re quiet, their mind is screaming.’
My eyes widened. ‘What’s it screaming?’
‘All the wrong fucking things,’ Derek said.
My mind was a swirling shit storm. ‘Let me get this straight. So when she says something like “just forget it”, I shouldn’t? I should keep arguing with her?’ I shook my head, not buying into it. ‘Naaah, that’s crazy.’
‘Crazy is fucking forgetting it. No man in their right mind would “forget it”. You never do what they tell you to do when you’re fighting.’
What the fuck? Everyone has gone mad. Am I the only sane one at this party? Am I even at this party? Maybe I’m dreaming.
‘Bombs away!’ a kid yelled, splashing water all over me.
I wiped my face, wondering for a split second if it was contaminated with kid piss. Nope. Definitely not dreaming.
‘Hey!’ Tash yelled. ‘No bombing. It’s not deep enough.’
‘Sorry, Mrs Jones.’
‘Jet, my name is Tash. That lady over there is Mrs Jones.’ She pointed to my mother, who was removing dead rosebuds from the bush in our garden.
Mum was none the wiser.
‘I’m curious, Deano,’ Derek said, lowering his voice. ‘When was the last time you told Tash how hard she was making your dick?’
I laughed. Was he kidding?
He didn’t return my laugh. Shit! He’s not kidding.
‘I can’t remember. Maybe before we got married.’
Bryce choked on his beer. ‘Mate!’ He lowered his voice as well. ‘When was the last time you asked how wet she was?’
‘Uh …’ I scratched my head. ‘Probably the same.’
Bryce scrubbed his chin. ‘Fuck. You need my help. Tash needs my help. No wonder she gives me a hard time at work.’
‘She gives you a hard time? How?’
‘She’s stubborn, sometimes worse than Lexi. Do you know how many times I said we weren’t having a tennis court in the atrium, and how many times she said we were? And guess what? We have a fucking tennis court in the atrium.’
I couldn’t help but smile; she’d been so excited about the Australian Open event she’d put together for City Towers. ‘That’s just Tash: stubborn as all fuck. It has nothing to do with whether I ask how wet she is or tell her how hard I am.’
‘Dude,’ Derek said to Bryce, ‘give him some Bryce Advice. He fucking needs it.’
Bryce belly-laughed. ‘Bryce Advice? You’re a tool, mate.’
Derek held his hand to his side like a gun and waggled his eyebrows. ‘Yeah, a “power” tool.’
‘Go and eat some cake, you idiot,’ Bryce replied.
‘If by cake you mean Carly’s pussy, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.’
‘Not here you’re not,’ I piped in. That was exactly what I didn’t need: Tash blaming me for oral sex I never had.
‘Chill, Deano. Listen to Bryce. He’s not just a pretty boy with a lot of money.’ Derek lifted his chin, spotting someone behind me. ‘Hey hey, Dale, my man. What are you doin’ here?’
I twisted just slightly, locking eyes with a guy who looked familiar but that I couldn’t quite place.
‘The birthday boy invited me. Where is the little tacker?’
‘DALE!’ Thomas yelled from his spot in the pool. ‘You came!’
‘I sure did. A promise is a promise.’
I smiled, even though I had no idea who he was. ‘Hi, I’m Dean,’ I said, offering my hand to shake as he stepped up to me and Bryce. ‘Thomas’s dad.’
He gripped it. Firm. ‘I’m Dale. I work with your wife.’ His eyes found Tash across the pool and he nodded, acknowledging her. Tash gave him a small wave in return.
I stared at the two of them, and my gut did what guts do.
It rumbled.
Maybe I was hungry.
CHAPTER
9
TASH
What the fucksicle fuckstick is he doing here?
‘Why is Dale here?’ I muttered under my breath to Alexis.
‘I dunno. Didn’t you invite him?’
‘No. Why would I invite him?’
‘Because you’re friends.’
‘We’re not,’ I snapped, a little too defensively.
Alexis’s eyes narrowed and then widened. She went to speak but I intervened. ‘I mean we are but we’re also not.’
‘Tash? What have—’
I shook my head, silencing her, and looked down at my wrung hands. ‘Not now. Not here.’
‘Hon, please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid.’
Tilting my head up to meet her gaze, I raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Oh, like you and Bryce?’
She gasped, and her eyes quickly filled with tears. Shit! I instantly regretted what I’d said, as the situations with her and Bryce had been completely different. Rick — her ex-husband — had cheated on her and lied for years. And it wasn’t until that came to light that she allowed herself to be with Bryce. So yeah, my remark was way out of line.
Sighing, I grabbed her hand and placed it between mine. ‘I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean it. Of course I didn’t mean it. You and Bryce are meant to be, regardless of how you came to be. Shit! I’m sorry. I … I need the bathroom.’
Standing abruptly, I let go of her hand and made my way to my bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind me. What am I doing? What is he doing here? I slumped on my bed but quickly shot up again when I heard a knock at the door followed by Dale’s voice. ‘Tashy, you in there?’
‘NO! I mean yes. I mean …’ Go the fuck away. ‘Hang on a second.’ I quickly smoothed down my hair and sundress — I had no freakin’ idea why — and opened the door a few centimetres wide. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I whispered.
‘Thomas invited me. I p
romised him I’d come.’
‘Thomas?’
‘Yeah, when we went on cadet duty the other day.’
I opened the door a little further. ‘Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for coming. Please go and make yourself at home by the pool like everyone else.’ I went to close the door but he wedged his foot in it. ‘Dale, what are you doing? You can’t be here.’
He furrowed his sexy brow. ‘What? Here, as in outside your bedroom?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s wrong.’
‘How? It’s just a room.’
‘You know what I mean.’
He laughed. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘Fine. I’m coming out then.’
Flinging the door open completely, I stepped through and shut it behind me, the wooden panel closing against my back, my hand still holding the handle. Dale wasn’t courteous enough to budge an inch, which meant there was little to no space between us.
‘You have a nice house,’ he said, his voice low, his eyes fixated on my lips.
I sucked in a short breath and stared at his lips as well. They were really nice: smooth, uncracked, pink … full. ‘Thanks, but you haven’t seen it yet.’
‘That’s because you won’t let me.’
My eyes met his and I snapped out of my lip-daze. ‘Fine. If you would kindly step aside, I’ll show you around.’
A smile crinkled his eyes and he moved back. ‘After you.’
I nodded and slipped past him, his scent affecting my ability to stand. ‘So … this is the … er …’
‘Bathroom?’
‘Yes, the bathroom.’ I pointed to my right. ‘There’s a shower, basin, toilet … bath. Everything a bathroom needs.’
He poked his head over my shoulder to take a peek, and the stubble on his cheek grazed my ear. ‘Nice curvature.’
‘I’m sorry, what?’ I spun and faced him.
‘The bath. It has nice curvature.’
My eyelids narrowed. ‘Hmm … moving on, shall we?’
‘We shall.’ Ugh! Those goddamn crinkles.
‘Next, we have the laundry,’ I said sarcastically, pivoting and displaying the room as if I were on a game show and presenting a prize. ‘So how’s the curvature in here?’
‘I dunno, let me see.’ Dale walked into the room, looked around, stopped and pulled open one of the dirty washing drawers. ‘Ahh … yes. Perfect curvature.’
My jaw dropped when he lifted one of my bras, dangling it from the tip of his finger. ‘Put that down!’ I snatched it from him, poked it back into the drawer and slid it shut. ‘Out!’
His hands found his pockets and he casually strolled past. ‘Where to next?’
‘The pool.’ I shoved him towards the back door. ‘Your tour has concluded.’
* * *
The next few hours felt as awkward as wearing a G-string three sizes too small. When I thought I’d found a comfortable moment, snap! G-string-right-up-my-arse-crack-unpleasantness. I couldn’t avoid it. All I could do was stand there and refrain from pulling the most hideous face, which was what I was doing while Dean and Dale were chattin’ like besties.
‘Do you have crabs?’ Carly asked, stepping into my line of sight with her pretty little blonde bombshell head. ‘Because they’ve got cream for that,’ she continued, biting into a carrot stick.
I leaned to my side to try and see around her. ‘And you’d know all about that, huh?’
‘Nope. No hair, no crabs down there.’
I burst into laughter and covered my face with my hand. Carly was such a fun-loving, carefree, filterless nympho, and I adored how not much fazed her at all.
‘Well, if you must know,’ I explained, whispering through my fingers. ‘I’ve no fanny forest for crabs to frolic in either.’
‘So why are you pulling that ugly I-have-an-itchy-snatch look?’
‘It’s not an itchy-snatch look.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
‘What is?’ Alexis asked, taking a seat on the banana lounge beside us. Brayden sat on her lap, wearing the cutest Nemo swimming nappy.
I gave her a small apologetic smile. I still felt so ashamed for having said what I’d said earlier on.
She half smiled back and shoved her adorable little four-month-old into my arms. ‘Here, hold this.’
‘This?’ I asked, having no choice but to practically catch him because the little wiggly worm tried to launch himself back at his mother.
‘Yeah, this bundle of cuteness that sucks the near life out of me every feed time.’ She subtly adjusted her boobs within her bathing suit. ‘I swear they’re shrinking.’
Truth of the matter was, she was shrinking all over, but I dared not tell her that after my word spew from before. ‘They’re not. You look good. Seriously, I wish I could wear a bathing suit as confidently as you do.’
‘Ha! I feel very uncomfortable right now. But my babies want a swim with their mum, so a swim I shall give them.’
A sudden and forceful vibration hit my arm, followed by a grunt and a godawful smell.
‘You’re doing it again,’ Carly said, crunching on the last of her carrot stick.
‘Doing what?’
‘Itchy-snatch face.’
‘Nah,’ I said, shaking my head and holding Brayden out to Alexis as if he were Simba from The Lion King. ‘What you’re looking at is shitty-nappy face.’
‘What? You’ve got to be kidding me. I just changed the little ratbag.’ She took him from me and did what all mothers do when checking to see if their baby has taken a dump — she pressed her nose into his butt. ‘BRAY! Why?’ Alexis turned him to face her. ‘Why do you do this to me?’
He squealed, leaned forward and sucked on her nose.
‘Stop it, you little monster. You’re not cute right now.’
‘He’s always cute, aren’t you, my little man?’ Bryce placed his hand just above Alexis’s arse while kissing his son’s head.
‘Yep. And he’s all yours. Here, go to Daddy. Daddy thinks you’re cute.’ She shoved Brayden into Bryce’s arms and waited.
So did I.
So did Carly.
‘Are you gonna go for a swim with Mumm…’ Bryce paused, wrinkled his nose and glared at Alexis. ‘I see what you’ve done here.’
We all cracked up laughing, except for Bryce. He just stared at Alexis with a look I’d never seen before but one that transfixed me instantly. It was a look of undeniable love, devotion, awe … a look of indisputable need. Intensity roared in his eyes, which were unwavering as they pierced her.
An unexplainable feeling came over me as I sat there by my pool, at my son’s birthday, witnessing how Bryce and Alexis interacted with each other, the love and lust they conveyed with their eyes. I couldn’t for the life of me remember if Dean and I had ever done that, ever communicated with just a look, and it made me sad. It made me long for something I hadn’t realised I’d wanted until now. It made me question what I had, what I didn’t have, what I wanted, and what I needed.
It made me question my marriage.
In hindsight, it shouldn’t have made me question anything. I mean, Bryce and Lexi acted like newlyweds. Their relationship, albeit two years old, was still fresh and exciting … still in that stage of discoverability. But I guess that was the key, because when you stopped discovering your partner, intrigue ceased to exist. And wanting to learn all there was about someone was what kept a connection alive. It kept a marriage strong.
Dean and I had no intrigue.
‘Mmm …’ Bryce hummed, his voice deep and prurient. ‘Your mummy is in trouble when we get home, Bray. Big trouble.’
‘Lucky your mummy likes being in trouble,’ she replied, her tone equally lascivious. Oh my God, that, right there, is so fucking sexy.
I wanted that sexiness, that desire. I wanted to be in trouble for simply handing my shitty child to Dean. I wanted something other than a quick fuck on my back that put me to sleep. I wanted more. But how did I get more from a
man who already gave all that he was? I had no idea. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was possible.
Looking away from the two horny fucks who were giving me a serious case of green-tinted skin, I caught Dale’s eyes settling on me as he tipped his beer to his mouth. I also caught my husband’s. One set, smiling warily. The other set, drowning in need.
* * *
I hadn’t been able to sit by the pool with them both gazing at me for a second longer, so I’d decided to head inside and immerse myself in food and cake preparation. Maybe it had been the sun, but I’d felt clammy.
‘Sembri malato. Cosa c’è di sbagliato? Hai bisogno di una mano?’ my mother asked, placing her hand on my forehead. She was such a worrywart, always fussing over me and my siblings.
I took her hand off my head and kissed it, reassuring her that I was fine and that she could help by setting out the salads. ‘Sto bene, Mumma. E sì, grazie. C’è insalate in frigo che devono essere messo sul tavolo.’
‘Va bene, sì.’ She went about grabbing bowls of pasta, potato and green salads, and set them out while continuing to mumble in Italian that I worked too much and needed to look after myself more, to which I replied — in Italian, because Mum missed my late father dearly, and they’d always conversed in their native tongue — that my brother and sister-in-law had bought a holiday home.
My plan was to distract her from giving me a hard time.
She mumbled again about fearing they’d move away to said new holiday home and take her grandchildren with them. I laughed and looked up from arranging the sausage rolls out on a platter to find Dean pivoting, seemingly trying to escape our presence without being noticed.
‘Dean, can you help with the sausage— oh never mind,’ I huffed. ‘I’ll do it myself.’
‘Combattere?’
‘No, Mumma,’ I said, answering her question as to whether Dean and I were fighting. He’s just being weird, and so am I, because my vagina kinda has a crush on the guy I work with.
‘Ladies, can I help with anything?’
I jumped and nearly tossed a sausage roll at Dale’s head. ‘Damn it!’
‘Spider monkeys?’ he asked, laughing. ‘Gee, that must be some world record.’
‘Ooh,’ my mother drawled, ‘che cosa un uomo bello con un bel culo tesa.’
Commitment Page 9
