The reality that I might have him inside my house and away from where anyone could see us was making me dizzy with excitement. But I was also terrified that I’d muck this up. I had no idea what he was thinking.
But he’d read my letter—a lot, if Daisy was to be believed.
So somehow I found the courage to say, “Let’s go to my house,” and miraculously, he nodded, then he took my hand.
My breath caught in excitement as the tingle of warmth shot up my arm, and I was momentarily stunned that he didn’t care if Sara saw him. “Where is it?” he asked.
“Two streets away,” I said breathlessly.
“Then let’s walk.”
And we did. He held my hand as we left the library, and seemed oblivious to the stares of the locals who saw us pass. He simply walked beside me, his gaze on the path ahead of us.
Holding my hand.
I had no idea what to make of this physical intimacy, but my libido was heading into presto territory. It was vital that I convince Jack that I wanted more than sex, but my body was a riot of sensation.
The fabric of my plain cotton bra rubbed against my nipples. I could feel that. And as my hair brushed against my shoulders, I remembered Jack’s lips there and that turned me on even more. Soon I was feeling those tiny clutching sensations between my legs and I struggled to distract myself by saying hello to the people we passed, probably surprising Jack that I knew them all.
He only nodded at them, and with a loss in the family so recently, that didn’t seem rude. I was loving the feel of his skin against mine and not wanting it to end, but when we reached my house and I led us down the path to the front door, I had to let him go to get my key out and let us in.
Then we were inside, and I was so nervous I could hear my blood pounding in my ears. Worse, my skin was tingling as if every tiny hair was raised, reaching out to him, wanting to be stroked.
“The kitchen is this way,” I said, and my voice sounded strangled. But I ignored that to unhook the satchel from around my shoulder and put it on the entry table.
“Angela.”
I turned to find him just inside the closed door. The letter was open in his hands and the torment in his eyes immediately quelled my libido.
“Is this true?”
I nodded straight away.
“You’re giving up your career? You’ve moved here for good? You’re clear on what you want?” His voice wasn’t shaking, but there was an intensity to it that told me these questions were very important.
I took my time answering carefully. “I want you. I want this baby. I want Daisy and Charley to grow up happy and loved.” I shrugged. “Anything else is bubble-wrap.”
“Because…” He stopped himself there and it took an effort of will to stay silent, when what I wanted to do was shout Tell me every objection so I can counter it. Finally, he said, “Those two girls are my responsibility now.”
As if I’d forgotten.
“I know that—”
“No, you can’t understand.” He shook his head to emphasize the point. “I’m not at liberty to do what I want. What I need. I have to do what’s right for them.”
He needs me.
I went still then, and the part of my brain saying Get him into the kitchen where the food is shut down. He was already convinced that he loved me, he wanted me and he needed me. So this wasn’t about love or sex or anything sensual. It was about duty and responsibility and fear.
If I wanted to marry him, I had to look at those fears and help him face each one. “In what way might I not be right for them?” I asked him quietly.
“Their father was an entertainer.” Oh no. “A rodeo cowboy with a charming smile and a ready line in bullshit every time he was in town. Which wasn’t often. My parents disapproved of him.”
Okay, this was just getting worse.
“But Izzy was infatuated with him. Which I didn’t understand at the time.” He looked at me pointedly and I had to fight a low, sick swirling in my stomach. “They warned her not to see him, but she got pregnant to him. Twice. And then he died in a fall.”
I’m not like him. I wanted to shout it, but instead I shook my head. “Poor Isabelle.” And poor Jack, having to stand by and watch. But even as I was responding to that, a part of my brain was thinking That’s ancient history. What about now? So I asked, “Did you parents warn you not to see me?”
He sucked in a slow breath and surprised me by shaking his head. “No, they didn’t.” But then he went on, “They don’t have to. They know I’ll never do anything to hurt the girls.”
“And our baby?” I asked. “They’re happy for you to hurt our child?”
“I haven’t.”
“But you’re pushing me away.”
“No I’m not,” he said instantly. “I’m simply not letting you in. There’s a difference.”
Okay. I was right at the door to his heart and he just wasn’t opening it. I could use the sex key, but then I might be outside the door again tomorrow. I needed to find a more permanent solution.
He folded the letter and put it away, then he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leant back against my door. “I used to dream about marrying a woman like you,” he said.
“An Indian—”
“No. Although that doesn’t make any difference to me.” He seemed calm then, as if all the fight had been taken out of him. I hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. “Someone sexy and beautiful, soft, funny. Someone who made my heart light, just being around her. Someone gentle and kind.”
I was flattered, but those compliments meant nothing if they didn’t sway him.
“And years ago I found someone.” He nodded to himself. “She was kind and pretty, a Brisbane teacher who’d been sent out on a rural posting. We dated and then moved in together and I thought I was in love.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I had no idea.” Then he opened them again to refocus on me. “And she left. As soon as her posting was finished, she couldn’t wait to get back to civilization.”
“That would have been upsetting,” I said calmly, but I was grappling with the fact that this might be the sticking point. Not the talk of duty and his parents, but his own personal demons.
“I thought my heart was breaking back then.” He shook his head, a self-deprecating smile on his beautiful lips. “But that was a piss in the pond compared to the tsunami I’ve been through with you. In fact,” he said, getting wound up, “Disneyland should invent a ride called the Angela Rollercoaster, but with a warning sign: People with weak hearts might die.”
We stared at each other a moment longer before he said, “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you walk out the day Izzy died, after having you in my arms all night?” He shook his head again, as if he was appalled. “You make me feel like Superman, and then you’re gone and it’s like an organ being wrenched out of my body. I can’t keep doing it every time your career—”
“I’m not sorry,” I said, and that stopped his tirade cold. “Because I’ve never felt more alive, more despairing, more aroused, more satisfied and more longing in my whole life.” I gave him a tremulous smile. “I feel like I’m finally living! I’m feeling real feelings, not being some pretend Angela that everyone wants me to be. And now…”
I rested a hand over my belly. “The most amazing thing in creation is happening to me. Something I’ve waited my whole life for. I’m growing another human being inside my body.” My eyes pricked with tears and I felt so much love in that moment, it swelled up and threatened to burst through my skin. “Do you have any idea how real that is? Life doesn’t get any more…explicit.”
I laughed at my own choice of words, and his expression softened.
“I love you Jack,” I said. “I want you to be happy. And I know that sharing this amazing time, and this amazing little person we’ve created… That would be the best gift I could give you. A gift of love.”
“And if I turn you away—”
“You’ll regret it for the rest of yo
ur life.”
That, I knew for sure.
“I love you,” he said, as if I could have forgotten.
“Enough to marry me, despite what your parents might say?”
“I don’t care what they say.”
“Then what do you care about?” I shot back and he frowned.
“You. The baby. Daisy. Charley. I want the four of you to be happy.”
“We can be. Together,” I said softly, then I held my breath because something was happening behind his eyes.
He stared at me a moment longer, then he nodded. “I know.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and straightened, staring at me as if the connection was holding him together. “You’re right. The rest is bullshit. The last thing Izzy said to me was Love. I thought she meant the girls—love the girls. But now…” He shook his head. “Her life was so short. She didn’t get enough time to love. But I do. I can.”
He looked to be on the brink of something and it was so hard to stand still, to let it happen and not rush into his arms.
“Why shouldn’t I love you,” he said, “and love our child. And love Daisy and Charley. And my parents.”
“Who don’t love me.”
“But they will.” He nodded, as if he was completely convinced. “And if, for some reason they don’t, it won’t matter. They’ve retired to Surfers Paradise. They only came home to be with Izzy and the girls at the end.” He nodded to himself a few times. “We won’t be living with them.”
I put a hand over my heart, willing it to stay inside my chest. “Where will we be living?”
“Together, with the girls.” He took two steps forward and I went straight into his arms. When his lips slid over mine, I sighed.
Home.
For a long time, that’s all he did, just kiss me—slowly, deliberately, as if he’d been planning this kiss and was taking his time about it. And every delicious flick of his tongue—that tasted like salted honey—ticked that metronome of excitement higher and higher.
And I melted. By the time I lifted my head, my eyelids were heavy and my knees felt weak. I licked my lips and said, “Did I mention that pregnant women have rampant libidos?” I’d been giving serious fantasy time to taste testing, and I was reasonable sure Jack wouldn’t mind my experimental efforts.
His smile was slow to come, but when it did, it lit my world. “I’m going to ring Sara and ask her to keep the girls there for the afternoon. I’m not rushing this. I’ve been fantasizing about making you come for far too long. I’ve missed every one of those sighs and moans, and I want to revisit them, so you’re going to have to indulge me.”
I nodded helplessly. If that’s what you want “Then you’ll stay?”
“Oh yeah.” He swung me up into his arms. “We’re on forever time now.”
T H E E N D
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Acknowledgement
In the months since the release of book 1 of the Husband Series, HUSBAND SIT, I’ve been thrilled that readers have fallen in love with my girls and have not only loved Jill’s story, they’ve been looking forward to seeing Angela, Louella and Fritha each find their own sexily-ever after! To all those readers who pre-ordered this book, or took the time to leave reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, and to share their love of the series on social media, my biggest and best Thank You!
The team who help me hone the books are awesome as well. Beta readers Dolly Singh Miranda, Rebecca Woodward, Simone Miners and Lynn Brooks have shared their expertise in the romance genre, and my editor Nas Dean has knocked off any rough edges.
Whenever I struck a blah writing day, my Facebook ladies at The Husband Sitters Club inspired me with some very sexy pics of hunky heroes. You guys are the best!
The Romance Writers of Australia members are endlessly supportive, and my own family are tolerant beyond all reason. The Man gets special mention for all the little things that make a relationship soar.
I’m a lucky writer. What can I say…
About The Author
Louise Cusack lives in Australia, in a tiny fishing village on the southern tip of the Great Barrier Reef. She’s a long-time vegetarian and caffeine addict with an obsession for finding the tiniest shred of romance in any story (and wallowing in it) alongside an unholy addiction to any franchise that begins with the word Star (Wars/Trek/Gate - you get the idea). There’s something about a man in uniform…in space.
Her own novels are about curious women who get themselves into unlikely situations—whether that’s an everyday woman from our world falling through a portal into a sepia kingdom, an amorous mermaid who gets herself stranded on dry land, or more recently, a perfectly ordinary house-sitter who finds herself husband sitting instead!
Louise doesn’t care what genre she writes in so long as the characters are endearingly real, the heroes are scorching hot and the sex is good!
OTHER NOVELS IN THE SERIES:
Book 1: HUSBAND SIT
Paid by wives to sleep with their husbands. Love is not in the contract…
Jill Wilson is fresh out of a ten-year relationship so boring she slept through half of it. Thirty-something, no children, no house, blah. The glamorous potential she and her three best friends shared as starry-eyed schoolgirls feels very far away, until an unlikely job appears—Husband Sitting—being paid by rich wives to keep their cheating husbands ‘happy’ at home while they skip off on vacation.
Not the sort of job a nice girl would do, but the ten grand a week paycheck is exactly what Jill needs to stop her little sister ending up in a Bangkok jail. And maybe, just maybe, the sex sounds exciting too. Unfortunately, there’s one complication: gorgeous Finn with his sexy green eyes and his gigantor…you know.
Love was definitely not in the contract, so in desperation to wipe Finn from her memory banks, Jill embarks on a bed-hopping frenzy. After all, the best way to get over one man is to sleep with another. But will Finn let her go? And as her emotional baggage arrives with an over-weight tag, can she believe in the fairytale of imperfect people ending up perfect together?
Crazy meets desperate in this erotic romp that nails the highs and licks the lows of one woman’s struggle to reach sexily-ever-after with the man of her dreams.
Author’s note: Due to strong language and sexual content, this full length, standalone novel is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
Available for purchase here: Amazon Kindle
Book 3: HUSBAND HEEL
An ex trophy wife with a score to settle. Domination is the best revenge.
Rose Bay socialite Louella Parkes has done everything expected of her for fifteen years—the perfect hostess and the perfect wife with the perfect life. But in the wake of her husband’s shock announcement and her subsequent divorce, all bets are off. The future is wide open and suddenly Louella knows exactly what she wants—the control she relinquished for status all those years ago.
She embarks on a secret dominatrix lifestyle that she hides from her girlfriends, because her companion on this journey into debauchery is the last person they’d expect. From Bentleys to bondage, Louella discovers what really turns her on, until things go too far and she’s forced to decide between love and ultimate control.
Fearless exploration equals breathtaking sex in this voyage of discovery that will shock, delight, and have you questioning – what is control?
RELEASING: 15 June, 2016
Book 4: HUSBAND ROLLOVER
She’s spoilt by a buffet of men. He’ll need every tri
ck to keep her coming back.
Fritha Wynde is a free spirit, sleeping with whoever grabs her fancy, especially if the grab feels good! She has work that she loves, friends who will let her wear rainbow-colored bridesmaid dresses, and girlfriends’ babies to cuddle. There’s not a thing about her life that she wants changed, until trouble walks into her feel-good teahouse, Bohemian Brew.
Trouble is a six foot two restaurant critic—Max—who has the audacity to ridicule the Banchee Tea, her signature brew, in his annoyingly sexy Brit accent. It’s time to retaliate and a low blow is in order—below the belt to be exact—but when Max discovers how delicious Fritha is, he’ll do anything to have her, including rolling over and playing dead.
Prude meets promiscuous in the fourth book of the Husband Sit Series, bringing all four girlfriends together as Fritha tortures the one man who grabs her fancy along with her heart.
RELEASING 17 August, 2016
Husband Stay (Husband #2) Page 31
