Your Bed or Mine?

by Candy Halliday

  Zada said, “I hope our fairy godmother grants me acceptance for the new idea I want to send my editor.”

  Jen and Tish both said, “You’re writing again?”

  Zada nodded. She hadn’t written a word since the separation. “I really want to do something with an environmental awareness theme this time.”

  “Zada, that’s wonderful!” Always-environmentally-conscious Jen exclaimed. “About the theme, and the fact that you’re writing again. I know how worried you’ve been over your writer’s block since you and Rick separated.”

  “Amazing how sex clears the mind,” Tish teased.

  “True,” Zada said. “Sex is like air. You don’t really miss it until you aren’t getting any.”

  It was after eleven o’clock when Rick drove the Hummer into the garage on Sunday night. Long hours even on weekends were part of the job during the weeks they were holding training sessions at the center.

  The recruits lived at the center full-time, giving them the opportunity to bond with the dogs. But the time after the daily classes ended was just as important as time spent in the classroom and on the obstacle course.

  After class time gave him and Scrappy the opportunity to bond with the recruits. Sharing real-life experiences with explosive detection was important information a recruit couldn’t learn from reading any textbook.

  Rick let himself into the house through the garage door off the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to find Simon waiting to greet him. He squatted down, scratching Simon’s ears, and giving him a few sound pats on his back.

  He laughed when Simon gave him a thorough sniffing.

  “What? Do you smell those dogs I’ve been working with today? You could have shown them a thing or two in your day, couldn’t you old boy?”

  As hard as it had been to retire Simon, he’d taken the vet’s advice and kept Simon away from the center after the explosion. The vet’s concern had been that bringing Simon back to surroundings he associated with explosive detection would be too traumatizing. Especially when the dog had a new challenge ahead of him—learning to survive sightless.

  Traumatizing Simon in any way was not an option for Rick. The reason he’d left Simon with Zada when they separated was to keep Simon’s life as trauma-free as possible.

  Trauma-free.

  Rick smiled.

  If he and Zada could work things out, his own life had the potential to be trauma-free.

  Thinking of Zada sent him through the house and up the stairs, being as quiet as possible. He headed down the hall to the guest bathroom to brush his teeth.

  What?

  All of his personal things were missing. He took a quick look in the closet. All of his clothes were missing as well.

  Rick headed back down the hall, Simon following. He slipped into the bedroom. Zada was buried beneath the covers so far, all he could see was the top of her head.

  Poor baby.

  I need to let her sleep.

  She’d gotten up early with him. Gone on a run with him. Moved his things for him.

  God willing, he would spend the rest of his life trying to make her as happy as she was making him.

  Rick undressed quickly, and slipped into bed, trying his best not to wake her. She rolled over and snuggled under his arm, her head resting against his chest.

  Rick whispered, “Thanks for moving my things, angel. You didn’t have to do that. I would have taken care of it myself.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  She snuggled even closer.

  “I know how busy you are during training sessions,” she whispered back. “Did your classes go okay today?”

  “I had a great day,” Rick said. “How did your day go?”

  “Good,” she said and yawned. “After I moved your things, I worked on a new book proposal.”

  She titled her chin up for a kiss. Rick didn’t disappoint her. One kiss led to another. Rick was the one to pull away.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. I know you’re worn out. Try and get some sleep.”

  “I’m tired,” she said, “but I’m never that tired.”

  Her hand slipped beneath the covers and moved down his stomach.

  Lower.

  Lower.

  Rick moaned and closed his eyes.

  “How would you feel about dancing with me?”

  His eyes snapped back open.

  “Now?”

  She giggled. “No, silly. Tish and Jen want us to go out Saturday night. Dinner first, a club later. It made me realize I didn’t even know if you liked to dance.”

  “Dancing isn’t really my forte,” Rick said. “But if you want to go dancing, I’ll take you dancing.”

  “And what if I want to do this?”

  Her whole body disappeared under the covers this time.

  The tongue thing!

  Oh, baby!

  You be the master.

  I’ll be the slave!

  Chapter 15

  Monday’s choice from the soy coffee variety pack was Cuddle Me Cappuccino. On Tuesday, the flavor for the day was Original Roast Romance. Wednesday, Zada had two cups of Kiss Me Kaloah. And Thursday she made a fresh pot of Back to Bed Blueberry. Zada closed the week on Friday, with French Vanilla Flirt.

  On Saturday, in honor of Rick taking the weekend off—for the first time ever during training sessions—Zada made a pot of delicious Love Me Tender Tiramisu. She and Rick enjoyed a cup together before Rick’s tee-time with Charlie and Joe.

  They walked across the street holding hands, with Zada thinking there had never been a more perfect June morning.

  Birds were singing.

  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  The kids were playing in the cul-de-sac.

  Jen and Tish, sitting on the steps, supervising.

  Charlie and Joe, busy loading the golf cart.

  Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

  She and Rick paused for a lingering kiss before Rick hurried off to join the guys. Zada sighed happily, then headed for Tish’s front porch steps where Tish and Jen were sitting.

  “Ain’t love grand?” Tish said and winked at her.

  They scooted over to make room for Zada on the steps.

  As the guys drove off, Rick turned around and waved.

  Zada blew him a kiss and waved back.

  Jen said, “Well, I have to admit I like that wave much better than the one you gave Rick the last time the guys played golf together.”

  Zada said, “I was just sitting here thinking to myself how much has changed since the Saturday Rick moved back home. Somebody reach over and pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming.”

  Tish said, “I was just sitting here thinking how far behind I am on making preparations for the annual neighborhood Fourth of July party. Can you believe it? July is only a few weeks away.”

  Jen took the hint and said, “Anything we can do to help?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Tish said. “Let me go get my sticky-note pad, and I’ll make you both a list.”

  Jen and Zada both groaned.

  Tish jumped up and hurried into the house anyway.

  Zada looked over at Jen. “Is everything still a go for tonight?”

  Jen nodded. “But I still can’t believe Rick took it upon himself to make dinner reservations for all of us.”

  Zada said, “He still won’t tell me where we’re going. He keeps insisting it’s a surprise.”

  “Surprise or not, I am so looking forward to a night out,” Jen said. “And thank God for grandparents. My parents are keeping Sonya, and Joe’s parents are stopping by after lunch for the twins. We can party all night if we want.”

  “Thank God for brave grandparents where the twins are concerned,” Zada said.

  “I heard that,” Tish said, walking back out on the porch. She wiggled in between Jen and Zada again. “And I agree completely. Joe’s parents are saints. My mother has to have electroshock therapy after a sleepover with the twins.”

  Af
firmative action was Alicia’s modus operandi on Saturday morning when she looked out her bedroom window and saw Jen, Tish, and Zada sitting on Tish’s front porch steps.

  She’d waited all week for one of them to call her. For someone to at least confirm they were having the Fantasy Club meeting at her house on Saturday.

  No one, of course, had bothered to call.

  Nor had she broken down and called any of them.

  She’d chosen to believe the matter was settled.

  But now, Alicia was having serious doubts. She was afraid all of her elaborate plans would be wasted. Afraid there would be no one to eat the catered buffet. No one to receive the expensive engraved bracelets. No one to thank for listening to her Edward outburst.

  Oh, God.

  What if they really are intending to stand me up?

  Alicia decided there was no time like the present to find out.

  But if they did back out of this meeting . . .

  If they dared to snub her again.

  If they really were going to be that rude?

  She was going to . . .?

  She was going to . . .?

  Dammit, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  But it will be something radical!

  “Uh-oh,” Tish said. “Look who’s headed our way.”

  Jen and Zada both turned their heads to look.

  Zada looked back at Tish. “I forgot to ask you. What did Alicia say when you told her we couldn’t make the meeting tonight?”

  Tish paled. “Me? I thought you were going to call and tell her.”

  Zada wailed, “Me?”

  “You’re the one who said you would get us out of going to Alicia’s,” Tish hissed, lowering her voice as Alicia grew closer.

  Zada whispered back, “But you were the one who came up with the reason why we couldn’t make the meeting. That’s why I thought you were going to call her.”

  Jen gasped. “Oh. My. God. You mean neither of you called to tell her we weren’t coming?” Jen shook her head. “I swear. You two never cease to amaze me.”

  Zada and Tish both looked at her.

  “You tell her, Jen,” Tish urged, Alicia almost on top of them now. “Alicia has always liked you best, anyway. She’ll take it better coming from you.”

  “Are you insane?” Jen whispered back. “Alicia probably has that Taser gun in her pocket right now!”

  “Oh, shut up! Both of you,” Zada grumbled. “I’ll tell her myself.”

  “The way you were supposed to do all along,” Tish said, sending Zada a mean look.

  “Whatever,” Zada said and frowned. “But trust me. Alicia is not going to take the news well coming from me.”

  Alicia gave Jen, Tish, and Zada her best smile when she walked up to the porch. “Ready for our meeting tonight, ladies?”

  Their expressions answered for them.

  Alicia’s stomach rolled over. She would have thrown up had a cold calm not settled over her.

  Zada spoke up and said, “Alicia, I can’t tell you how sorry we are. I thought Tish had called you. And Tish thought I had called you. But we aren’t going to be able to make the meeting tonight. The guys are taking us out to dinner.”

  “Dinner?” Alicia snapped.

  I can’t believe this!

  “Yes,” Zada snipped right back at her. “Dinner.”

  Alicia tossed her hair and said, “Sorry, but I’m a bit confused, Zada. I thought you were trying to get rid of Rick. I’d think about changing my strategy if I were you.”

  Zada’s eyes narrowed.

  So did Alicia’s.

  “I hate to disappoint you, Alicia,” Zada said, with a toss of her own hair. “But Rick and I have decided to try and work things out.”

  Then Rick has my deepest sympathies.

  But Alicia forced herself to say, “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Zada said, her nose in the air.

  Jen was the only one decent enough to look guilty.

  She sent Alicia an apologetic look and said, “You’re more than welcome to come to dinner with us tonight, Alicia.”

  Alicia almost laughed in Jen’s face.

  Are you freaking kidding me?

  Me—and three married couples?

  You know I wouldn’t accept that invitation!

  Which is exactly why you asked.

  Alicia didn’t even dignify the invitation with a reply.

  Before they saw the tears in her eyes, she wheeled around and walked back across the yard. With both fists clenched, Alicia made a silent vow.

  Things were about to change in Woodberry Park.

  Big time!

  Rick was glad Zada had made him sign her IOU.

  He couldn’t have gotten out of bed before noon on Sunday if his life had depended on it.

  He’d surprised all of them when the limo arrived the night before—his solution to someone having to be the designated driver on Saturday night. And yes, it was out of character for him to splurge like that. But during the last few weeks he’d had to face the fact that being out of character wasn’t necessarily a bad thing where he was concerned.

  He’d made reservations at a great Italian restaurant—Zada’s favorite cuisine—in downtown Chicago, close to

  the nightlife. They’d hit as many clubs as possible before closing time. They didn’t even get back to Woodberry Park until around 4:00 AM on Sunday morning.

  He usually didn’t drink that much.

  He hadn’t danced since his high school prom.

  And he couldn’t remember ever just letting go and having one hell of a good time.

  But there was always a price to pay after the party.

  The reason Zada was walking toward him now, at 4:00 pm on Sunday afternoon, a glass of water and two aspirins in her hand.

  She stepped over the Sunday paper cluttering the floor in the den off the kitchen. “Here, sweetie,” she said, handing him the glass.

  Rick took the glass, tossed the aspirin into his mouth, and washed the medicine down with water. He handed the glass back to Zada, too hungover to care that she placed it on the end table by the sofa without using a coaster. But he wasn’t too hungover to be affected when Zada stretched out on the sofa beside him, and pressed every inch of her incredible body fully against his.

  “Talk about the marvels of modern medicine,” Zada teased when his erection became obvious.

  “Please don’t make me laugh,” Rick begged. “My hair even hurts.”

  “Probably from those wild eighties head-banger moves you were doing on the dance floor last night,” Zada said.

  Rick moaned. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “I am so!” Zada exclaimed and grinned. It was her way of agreeing, but still with an argumentative tone.

  “Let’s compromise,” Rick said. “If you’ll stop rubbing your hot little body against me like that, we can both take a nice, long nap.”

  “I have a better idea,” Zada said.

  She got up from the sofa and covered him with a throw.

  “You take a nap. I’ll go work on my proposal.”

  “I don’t get it,” Rick grumbled. “You drank as much as I did. Why aren’t you hungover?”

  “Because I am truly an evil woman,” Zada said.

  She winked at him and headed out of the room.

  Rick rolled over and promptly went to sleep.

  The ringing in Rick’s dream was the bell, signaling it was time to change classes. He was walking down the hall in his old high school. He had on his black and gold leather high school jacket with BULLDOGS written on the back, and with patches on the front where he’d lettered in football, basketball, and baseball. The girl he had taken to his senior prom was standing by her locker.

  She smiled at him and said, “Aren’t you going to answer the phone?”

  Rick jerked upright on the sofa.

  “Zada,” he called out. “Are you going to get that?”

  The phone rang again.

  Damn
!

  Rick pulled himself up and headed for the nearest phone in the kitchen, fingers to his temples, a groan on his lips.

  “Hello.”

  Silence.

  “Hello,” Rick said again.

  The caller hung up.

  Rick clicked the phone off and laid it on the kitchen counter. When he walked to the sink for a glass of water, he saw Zada through the kitchen window—in the backyard with Simon, tossing him the sensor ball. He had just taken a glass from the cabinet when the phone rang again.

  “Hello,” Rick said.

  Silence.

  “This is the Clark residence,” Rick said. “Who are you calling?”

  Again, the caller hung up.

  Rick hit *69.

  The message came up “private caller.”

  A sick feeling, worse than any hangover, instantly hit the pit of his stomach. He was still staring at the phone when Zada and Simon came through the kitchen door.

  Zada said, “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re up. But the question is, are you feeling any better?”

  Rick didn’t answer.

  He kept staring at the phone, a stricken look on his face.

  Possibilities instantly raced through Zada’s mind, none of them good. His family? Her family? One of their friends?

  “Rick, what’s wrong?”

  Rick held up the phone. “I’ve just had two hang-up phone calls, back to back. Maybe you should inform your boyfriend we’re back together.”

  Zada drew a blank. “What boyfriend?”

  Rick’s blue eyes were turning darker by the second.

  He said, “The guy you said you were dating. You were just going to hang out at his place? Remember?”

  Zada laughed.

  It was the wrong thing to do.

  Rick slammed the phone down on the counter. He walked out of the kitchen and into the adjoining den, kicked the Sunday paper out of his way, and flopped down on the sofa.

  Zada hurried after him.

  He looked up when she stopped in front of the sofa.

  “Rick,” she said. “I laughed because I made that up. There is no guy. I swear it.”

  Rick didn’t seem convinced.

  He said, “Get serious, Zada. Why would you lie about dating some guy?”

  Zada said, “To make you jealous, okay?”