by Anders, S.
“She’ll do as I tell her, Lanie. You wait and see. She won’t cross me.”
What the fuck did that mean, Rio wondered, as Lanie standing by the passenger side of Dean’s truck expelled, “I’m not going to your house. It’s her or me!”
“Calm down, Lanie, geeze. Just for tonight, I can keep her under control.”
“Fuck,” Rio cussed, and he let go of the doorway and stalked out toward Dean who was halfway into his truck.
“Look out he’s coming!” Lanie screeched.
Rio grabbed the door from swinging shut on Dean’s side. “You fucking lay one harmful finger on your wife, asshole, and I will tear you apart!” Dean hastily started his truck with his gaze looking furious but shocked.
“You stay out of shit with my wife!” Dean shouted.
Rio’s arm nearly got torn off when Dean backed up the truck with the door still opened. Rio grunted in pain and grabbed his upper arm as he watched Dean reach out to slam the door shut, give him the finger, and then peel out while nearly hitting his chopper. Just as the sound of the truck screeching away was a distant sharpness he heard a sob behind him, toward the house.
Shit.
He turned knowing who the hell it was...
He also knew she’d heard all that crap her dickwad husband was spewing. Just fucking great, he thought trying to bite back the pain in his shoulder.
“I-I couldn’t leave,” she whispered with tears in her voice as she huddled by his garage door. He might have sent her on her way, but something Dean was saying at the end bothered him ... like the asshole could and maybe already did hurt his wife.
“You’re hurt,” she sniffled, then her shadow came towards him. “Your shoulder, is it bad?” He didn’t say anything, just looked down at the tears on her pretty face. “It needs ice and Ibuprofen for swelling,” she whispered.
He grunted, with a nod. “Come on in.”
She’s a slug in bed and fat. Natalie forced the horrible words from her mind. But what she couldn’t force from reality was how beautiful the woman was. Rio’s wife, Lanie. She’d found out the names from Dean and Lanie yelling, but Rio’s, she’d asked him. He’d growled his name and she’d given hers as he’d led her into his house. Why she followed his sort-of-invitation to come inside, without actually saying the words, was simply because she had no clue where to go.
As she followed Rio, while trying to control her crying, she saw he was a different kind of man than she was used too. He had on the big black motorcycle boots, worn black jeans, and a washed out blue tee shirt that showed muscular upper arms and read, “Born Wild,” in faded letters on the front. He had a long silver chain that went from his back pocket to somewhere in front and when they got into the light of his front hallway, she saw he had tattoos on his arms.
She didn’t know any men that had tattoos ... or such long hair ... or really such a deep voice. Whenever he spoke the bass of his voice shivered through her. She shouldn’t follow into his house, but really she was very lost and hurt. Immediately, she fell back on being helpful as a way to cover the suffocating pain, and she went right to his refrigerator opened the freezer and started digging in the ice maker for ice. He was in the family room and she saw he had a remote in his hand. Her gaze lifted further and she saw a porn movie on a really big screen TV over the fireplace.
The woman on the screen had been getting it from two men. One from behind and one in her mouth before the picture blinked off. Natalie tried to catch her sound of surprise, but it started out of her throat anyway and she rattled the ice really loudly to cover it.
Maybe she shouldn’t be in a stranger’s house. Alone.
To cover her discomposure she grabbed a towel off the oven door handle to her right to put ice into as she fought her horrid blushes. She’d never seen a woman do that to a man with her mouth before. Then suddenly she realized that it had to be Dean and Lanie watching the porn movie. Not Rio at all. Of course it could be his porn, but he’d not been home to put it on ...
“Just forget it,” she muttered under her breath, determined to help Rio’s shoulder even besides just viewing a porn movie scene with him. Her tears were dried at least as she scooted over to him, standing in the middle of his family room, behind a leather couch facing the fireplace.
His hip was cocked to one side and his jeans fit his butt tightly but his tee shirt had ridden up and she could see his lower back. There was something mesmerizing about it. Then she saw his eyes were a cocoa brown as she touched his really nice bicep and put the towel full of ice on the front of his shoulder. His moustache and short beard which might not be a true beard but just a longer time from shaving were as dark brown as his hair. Just shy of black.
“Thanks.” He grabbed the ice towel and she slipped her hand out from under his.
To hide her instant shyness, her gaze dipped, as she mumbled, “Ibuprofen in the bathroom maybe?”
“Don’t know...”
Before he could say more and to move away from how close they were, she interrupted, too brightly, “I’ll go look.” She started away, then thought to add, “If that’s okay?”
“Fine with me, lady.”
Natalie’s eyes widened as she reached the hallway. The way he’d said “lady” was like a baritone caress. He had a really good voice. Then she proceeded to ignore how dirty and messy Rio’s house was. By the time she reached the bathroom she was dismayed over it, then once in the bathroom she was appalled. Clearly Rio’s wife Lanie could screw men very well but not clean house worth a damn.
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Just a Couple Ex’s Exposed (read excerpt) (Standalone novel)
(available now)
By S. Anders
Nia Cooper couldn't believe it. She'd just gotten off work from the Fabric Barn when a man and a woman approached her out in the parking lot, next to her old rusted GTO. They claimed they were television producers for a show called, "Rotten Cheating Spouses."
Nia looked disbelievingly at the thin, forty-something woman. Nia thought her inward instincts were telling her that a woman would offer more support. She was wrong about that.
"Mrs. Cooper, wouldn't you want to know if your husband was cheating?" a man in the group asked her, with a microphone tilted toward her, as a tall man carrying a big camera on his shoulder slowly walked toward them.
"Here sign this," the thin woman urged. "So we can tape your answer." The woman held a paper attached to a clipboard with a pen pointed in Nia's direction. "Just initials are fine," the woman persisted.
Nia tried quelling the sudden alarm she felt by rationalizing it was just a poll taken by the TV show. What were the odds of a TV show showing up in her part of town though? The town was big enough that she'd not been on the east-side of town in over a year. There was just no need to go over there.
"Yes, I think husbands or wives should be told if their spouses are cheating," she said, answering the poll question with her honest feelings. "It's a horrible thing," she added.
"Just sign this so your answer counts," the woman producer repeated, and she actually put the pen in Nia's hand and moved her fingers to the paper. Nia initialed what she assumed was her vote, and just as the last swirl was drawn, the woman producer exclaimed, "Got it!"
Lights from the camera flashed on, flooding the area in brightness even though it was daylight. Nia lifted her hand, trying to shade her eyes from the glare, as she exclaimed, "Oh no! No, I don't want to be taped. I just gave my vote is all? Please don't tape me."
"Don't worry," the man said, with a much different voice than he'd used to ask the cheating spouse question. Now his voice was unnaturally deep sounding and it had a fake sympathetic tone to it. "You'll want this documented," he said.
"Mrs. Cooper, we have some video that we think you need to see," the woman said, who now had a suit jacket on and her glasses were gone. "Just take a look here."
A mini-camcorder screen was pushed under Nia'
s nose, and as she looked down at it, she heard the man say. "We are so sorry to have to reveal this to you, Mrs. Cooper, and we will offer you complete support through all of this."
Nia felt her body tensing as her stomach grew sour with terrible feelings. Oh no. She tried to force her eyes away from the video screen, but her husband Dan was suddenly on the screen and she couldn't tear her gaze away. It came to her, right before it was confirmed by events on the camcorder screen, what the combination might mean of her husband and a TV show called, "Rotten Cheaters."
"Oh it can't be," she whispered, and she didn't realize she'd dropped her purse to clutch the viewing screen. On the screen she saw her husband, Dan, leaning over to kiss a pretty black-haired woman. It wasn't a peck either. It was a long and lingering kiss that made her sicker with each moment it went on.
Where were they, she wondered? She was trying to place the background with the fleeting hope that the video was from before they were married. She'd much rather believe her husband than some strangers.
"Our undercover man caught this video at La Fontina Restaurant," the man was saying.
"When?" Nia demanded, drilling her gaze into his. "When was this taken?"
"Several months ago," the woman producer told her.
Then, the man said, "I'm afraid we have more, Mrs. Cooper."
Who was the woman, Nia wondered? Dan worked a lot, but she'd never thought he could be doing ...
She gasped, because now the screen showed Dan with the woman and they were both getting undressed. It looked as if the video was shot from beyond an open window blind. Tears began burning her eyes.
"That's enough!" a man's voice snapped through the roaring in her brain, as she swayed. "Turn it off. She's seen enough. I won't do your segment if you don't turn it off."
Someone strong steadied her waist and a broad hand clamped over the camcorder, blocking the views of the up and down motions of Dan over the woman. Sex. They were having sex.
"Whoa," Jack Andersen said, putting his other hand under Nia Cooper's elbow to hold her upright.
Man, this had been a bad idea. If Mrs. Cooper felt half as shell-shocked as he did, it was no wonder she was about to faint. And he'd seen the entire video of his wife with Mrs. Cooper's husband. Christ, he wondered how the two of them even knew each other. The word and action, “drinking,” sped through his thoughts, but he shoved it aside.
"You get the picture they are having an affair," Jack said, bending so he could say it close to Nia Cooper's ear.
She nodded saying, "I don't want to see any more of that."
"What do you think about the fact your husband is having a clandestine affair with his wife, Mrs. Cooper?"
Nia pulled away from Jack’s support, with and exclamation, "Your wife?"
She looked up at Jack with eyes the color of mahogany, making her face appear even more waifish. Dan Cooper was an idiot, Jack thought, because his wife was a soft, delicate, and appealing woman. She was very pretty in a natural way.
"Yes, my wife," Jack answered, putting his hand forward to shake her hand, while trying to keep the rage and hurt he felt off his face. He knew he had to be doing a poor job of it as he wondered if a handshake was proper in a situation like this. "I'm Jack Andersen."
Nia Cooper's small hand got lost in his as he gently shook her hand, and unbelievably he heard her say. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Andersen."
That made the hurt he was trying to control ache harder and he knew his pain was reflected on the pale contours of her face.
Moments later, he and Nia were ushered apart from one another, while the producers explained the next phase of the "cheaters sting" as he’d labeled it. He'd been the one to call the show in the first place, because he’d desperately needed a way to discover if his suspicions were true.
Especially after his wife Sadie, kept blaming him and saying he was the one that was crazy. Too his questions, she'd repeatedly said; no she wasn't having an affair; he was just an insecure slob. It was one of the many tactics she’d used to cover her tracks.
Once he got into the television show's official SUV, he could see Nia looked ravaged as she sat crumpled on the far side of the back seat he sat on. The damn camera man had his camera pointed from the front passenger's seat, back towards her.
She looked at him, and whispered, "Do you think this is a good idea ... confronting them?"
Jack saw it then, on the edges of her delicate features ... fear. He silently berated himself, thinking he should have thought about this ... for all he knew Dan Cooper could be a wife beater. This ambush could push him beyond acceptable limits.
Jack scooted toward her, while shoving his hand into the lens of the camera, until he'd pushed it and the guy running it a foot toward the windshield.
"Turn if off now," Jack demanded.
"Mr. Andersen, we need this footage," Shelia said, from the second set of rear seats. She was the female host of the show.
He glared at her. "You'll get enough, just not right now."
"Alright. Alright, Bob, shut if off for a bit. We have time."
Jack let the camera lens go, and he looked down at Nia. "You don't have to go confront them, Mrs. Cooper. I can get you home."
The next phase was to catch his wife and her husband alone at his house, doing what; he did not even want to think about. He'd seen enough on the video... his wife giving another man the sex he’d wanted. The sex he’d practically begged her for. Jack rubbed a rough hand over his face.
Then he felt Nia's soft hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, reading his pain.
"Just tell me if you want to confront them or not," he said. "I'll back you up."
He could definitely give her that for being so nice to him. Sorry? She had nothing to be sorry for.
Nia thought she'd entered a completely alternate life from the one she'd had, not long ago, leaving the Fabric Barn. Even with video proof, she could hardly believe it, and her mind kept trying to find excuses. Unfortunately, every time she looked at Jack Andersen's face, she saw the truth. How unreal was it to be sitting beside the husband of the woman Dan was screwing.
Tears burned her eyes again, and she felt Jack clamp his hand in support over the top of her hand. That he could give her support — it nearly made her tears fall as she swallowed hard. She felt so bad her husband was ruining his life.
It was worse for women to cheat, wasn't it? People expected men too, but women? Jack had to be as devastated, and she felt him squeezing her hand, at the same time he held his strong, masculine features firm.
She had to know for certain, even if it killed her. She had to know why?
"I think I need to see them," she told Jack, in a quiet voice.
She was close enough that as she looked up at him, she could see how shiny his deep brown eyes were. Unshed tears, like her. For some reason that made her tears fall. Men tried so hard not to cry, she thought.
"I know that I have to see them," he answered, with anger in his voice.
Nia swiped at her tears, looking away from Jack. She wished she had anger like he did to strengthen her resolve. She prayed it would come later, because at the moment all she felt was fear. Fear of losing her husband. Fear that her life was irrevocably changing and she couldn't stop it.
Then, the SUV's were turning down a suburban street she didn't recognize. How had Dan met Jack's wife in this part of town, she wondered? The word, "drinking" flickered through her thoughts.
"We're nearly there," Jack said, and she was grateful for the warning, but a type of odd, otherworldly numbness settled over her.
Through the strange numbness she could see more tenseness settling over Jack's features, making them more chiseled. He had a soldier's face ... compelling and strong. She wondered how in the world his wife could ever cheat on him. He was a man's, man. He had to work with his hands or close to it.
Nia looked down at his hand covering hers. It was big and wide. Not like Dan's, she thought. Dan had thinner hands, and he never used them
for any type of labor. Dan was a financial advisor, but he also prepared peoples taxes, to shorten the gap between those times when his business was slow.
Or ... non-existent, Nia nearly muttered aloud. It was an old discussion between them, but it had gotten her into working part time at the Fabric Barn. She loved that. Surprised, because she'd never thought she'd enjoy getting out of the house so much.
"It's the light-brown, ranch style house down that cul-de-sac. The one in the middle."
Nia glanced at the house as all the SUV's passed the cul-de-sac.
"We're going to stage a block down," the male producer said, from his seat in the rear of the vehicle. He was using his normal voice at the moment. No camera, Nia realized.
The house looked newer and well cared for, in the glimpse she'd gotten of it. She and Dan would never have been able to afford it. She leaned in and up toward Jack's ear. "He's there," she whispered.
Jack closed the space between them, leaning down, until their heads grazed each other. "You saw his car?" he guessed in a low voice.
She nodded, making their heads touch, as he squeezed the top of her hand. "Damn, somehow even with all the evidence, I just kept hoping."
Pain flared in Nia's chest striking back the numbness.
Jack knew the producers weren't happy by Nia's response. She was more shocked and fragile than she was hopping mad and ready to kick her husband's butt. Yelling confrontations sold shows. But he didn't give a damn about their show. They were only a means to an end.
When he walked up to his house, with the cameras and producers around him, he was centered on one thought. Do not kill anyone. He had to control his anger. He knew the show wanted a fight between him and the man balling his wife. But he was here for Sadie. To reveal her lies and backstabbing by the way she always threw it back on him.
She wouldn't be able to do that this time, and he'd be able to reclaim some of his dignity. He wasn't going to mess that up by brawling. Besides, he didn't want to leave an enraged man, which fighting could incite, for dainty Nia Cooper to have to deal with later.
