I wait until Lucy is securely in the house, waving through the window at the parent who opens the door. I don’t know them, but Ella does, and she approved this overnight stay.
When the door closes, I take off.
I have several things to do before I put my big move into play tonight. If all goes well, I hope Ella understands I’m serious about this at the very least.
I’m in it for the long haul.
CHAPTER 7
Ella
We walk slowly from the driveway, along my sidewalk, and toward my porch—arms hooked at the elbow. David treated me to another lovely dinner, followed by an outdoor documentary film.
“Thank you for a great evening,” I murmur as we ascend the four porch steps. I disconnect our arms so I can grab my keys from my purse.
The minute my fingers wrap around them, David is putting his hands to my face and kissing me. It’s far more direct and forward than he’s ever been. Still, I suspect he’s making a statement after Jim strutted his stuff all over my home in a blatant display to David that he wasn’t going anywhere.
I try to open up to the kiss, desperately wanting to give this man a chance because he is good, kind, and thoughtful.
But the minute his tongue touches mine, it feels incredibly wrong and I can’t help but pull back.
David’s face falls, and he looks crestfallen.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my expression pleading with him to understand how difficult this has become for me to manage the competing feelings I’m having.
“It’s fine,” he says, but his tone tells a different story. He steps closer, taking my hands. “Look… I’m crazily attracted to you in all respects. We’ve been going out for several weeks now, and I like you. I want to move further, but if you’re not on the same page, I need to know.”
“It’s complicated,” I reply, knowing that’s a cop-out.
“It’s really not.” His voice is kind, but it’s slightly patronizing. “I’m just going to ask you to think about what you want. Either push forward with me or pull back because your feelings for your husband are holding you back. It’s one or the other.”
Because I don’t want to hurt him, my heart feels compelled to argue with him about my feelings for Jim, but it would be a lie. I can’t do that. So, I quietly admit, “I know.”
David raises one of my hands and kisses the knuckles. His expression is sad, without any hope. I think in his mind we’re over, and for some reason, that loosens the tightness in my chest.
“Let me know what you decide,” he says softly, turning sideways and releasing his hold on me. He takes one step down, peering up. “Unless you already know?”
I shake my head. Because while I might mostly know, I still have some conflicting feelings I need to reason out with myself. “I’d like a day or so to think about it.”
There’s a small light flaring back in his eyes, and I hope I’m not leading him on. Would it be kinder to kill it now? But no, damn it. I do like David. If Jim had kept his damn nose out of my business, we would be progressing.
Ugh.
Still, I give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Goodnight,” he replies with a nod.
I watch David descend the steps before turning to let myself in the house. Lucy left the foyer light on, and I put my purse and keys on the table. After I set the alarm, I move through the semi-darkened house toward my bedroom.
Flipping on the light, I look directly at the bed Jim and I shared. We have so much history in that marital bed, and I miss those times. Jim and I are physically and sexually compatible in every way. I’m even going to say we’re emotionally perfect when we’re in bed together because we fuck with more than just our bodies. Our hearts were always in it one hundred percent.
With a sigh, I let my gaze move past the bed as I walk into the bathroom. If only we were emotionally compatible outside of bed.
My routine is the same as every night. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and put my long hair up in a loose bun tied with an elastic to keep it out of my face. I slather on some moisturizer, pull one of my soft sleeping t-shirts out of the drawer—mostly all Jim’s t-shirts—and slither into it.
Sliding under the covers, I check my text messages before turning out the light. As expected, there’s one from Lucy saying goodnight, which she does every night regardless if she’s in the house or not. It’s become our thing since we got her a phone last year. I shoot her back a heart emoji before placing my phone on the bedside table.
Just as I’m about to turn out the bedside light, I hear the whooping sound of an incoming text.
Assuming it’s Lucy, I grab the phone. I’m not sure what it says about me when I see it’s from Jim, and my heart leaps. The words are short and simple. In the backyard. Join me.
I’m not irritated by this. Slightly amused, a tiny bit exasperated as I am really tired, but the fact that my lips are tipping upward is proof he’s getting under my skin.
What exactly does that say about me?
Probably the same thing it said about the fact I thought about Jim far too much during dinner with David tonight.
That I didn’t want David’s kiss to go deeper.
That, yes, there are parts of Jim I miss, and I miss them greatly. His seeming desire to win me back has my emotions jumbled up horribly.
But for the moment, he has me charmed. I text back. Sorry, but I’m tired and am ready to go to sleep.
His reply is instantaneous. Get your ass out here. I have something you don’t want to miss.
A tiny shiver runs up my spine. I never minded the alpha, domineering side of Jim. That’s because I knew when he did that, I was the center of his universe at that moment. It was the times where he didn’t care enough to command me to his side that broke my heart.
I don’t bother responding, instead slipping out of bed.
I don’t bother with pants or even shoes. Jim’s old t-shirt hangs almost to my knees, and we have steppingstones from the back patio to the gazebo. It’s also dark, and I doubt I’ll be seen. I wonder if Jim wants to talk more about Lucy.
Or perhaps… he somehow picked up the puppy for her and wants to show it to me?
Except I know the puppies aren’t ready yet, so it can’t be that.
By the time I’m pulling the sliding glass door open, my mind has raced through a dozen possibilities as to why he’s here.
When I step onto the patio, pulling the door closed behind me, I freeze when I look out at the gazebo. The night is pitch black all around it, but Jim has managed to set up candles around the base, on the table inside, and some across the floor so it’s glowing romantically.
“What the hell?” I murmur, because for all of the things I love about Jim, he’s never been the most romantic. At least not in the latter years of our marriage.
Part of me wants to run back inside and not confront this. I just know this is going to change the feelings I have within me.
The other part wants to run to him to see what he has to say for himself.
I don’t run either way but rather walk slowly across the steppingstones. Jim stands between the two chaise lounges, the soft glow of the candles illuminating enough of him that I can see he has his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts in an easygoing manner. I can’t see the details of his face, but I can feel the weight of his stare as I get closer.
“Nice outfit,” he says as I take a step up onto the gazebo. The smile in his voice is obvious.
I roll my eyes, doubting he can see from the candlelight, but my tone is dry. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“True.” He chuckles, reaching out for my hand. “But wondering what Mr. Ordinary would think if he knew you were sitting out here half-naked with me not fifteen minutes after your date was over.”
I pull hard—because it makes me feel guilty being here—and Jim releases my hand. “I imagine he wouldn’t like it at all. So exactly what are you doing here?”
; “Trying to woo you, but it’s apparently not working,” Jim mutters as he scrubs a hand through his hair. More of his face becomes visible as my eyes adjust to the dark, and I have a stab of sympathy over the uncertainty in his expression.
I feel the need to soothe it away. “The candles are pretty.”
Sighing, Jim reaches out lightning fast to grab my hand again. “Okay… let me start over. Hi, Ella. I wanted to come spend some time with you tonight since I leave tomorrow on an extended road trip. I know I’m dropping in unexpectedly, but I feel like this is the only way to get some time with you lately.”
I’m strangely touched by his honesty and the irony of how the roles are reversed. Now, he’s the one struggling to find time with me and not the other way around.
Jim turns me slightly, indicating I should sit on the edge of the chaise. He releases my hand and does the same, so we’re facing each other, our knees almost touching.
I lean forward, cross my arms on my thighs, and ask, “Where did you get this romantic streak?”
Jim shakes his head. “It’s work, to be honest. Thinking of something unique that will make you look twice at me. I told you I’m in this to win it, but it’s not a game. I’m just trying to make you understand, Ella… that I see you.”
Those words touch me more than I ever thought possible. It’s what I’ve wanted to hear him say for years, yet there’s still a part of me that is a little jaundiced.
“I have something for you,” he murmurs and turns to a metal bucket on the floor in front of the table I had not noticed. Beside it, there are two solo cups.
My brows knit in curiosity as Jim pulls from the crunch of ice in the bucket what looks to be a champagne bottle. Holding it up, he declares, “Sparkling grape juice.”
“Sparkling grape juice?” I repeat, wondering why he made that choice.
“Come on, Ella,” he chides as he deftly unwraps the foil top, removes the wire cage, and pops the plastic cork. “Don’t you remember when we were seventeen, drinking this crap because I couldn’t score the real stuff?”
I do remember. He took me on an evening picnic by a moonlit pond. He had packed the sparkling grape juice and some oatmeal cream pies—my favorite—and we watched the stars while we made plans for the rest of our life. We were crazy in love, and there was no holding us back.
Jim pours two glasses—the solo cups are exactly the same as our picnic sixteen years ago—and hands me one. We tap them together, then take a sip.
I grimace. “I remember this tasting better.”
“It’s pretty sweet, huh?” He laughs, setting his cup down and I do the same. He reaches behind the chair, pulling out a box of oatmeal creme pies. “Want one?”
Laughing, I take the box while shaking my head. “I’m stuffed from dinner, but I’m sure I’ll have room later. These are great. Thank you.”
Placing the box of cookies beside me on the chaise, I watch as Jim leans to the side one more time, grabbing something I can’t quite see in the dim light.
“I have one more thing for you… the most important.”
Something about his tone causes my body to lock tight because whatever he’s about to spring on me is something I know has impacted him. I can hear the emotion in his voice, which tells me he put a lot of thought and effort into this, and if I don’t like it, he’s going to be devastated.
Covering whatever it is he holds in his hand, he leans forward and asks, “Remember what else happened that night of stars, sparkling grape juice, and oatmeal cream pies?”
I snort, trying to lighten the mood. “I let you get to third base with me that night.”
Jim barks out a laugh. “True.”
But that’s not what he’s aiming for. “It was the first time you told me you loved me,” I whisper.
“And you gave me the words back,” he replies ever so softly.
“And then… you gave me a promise ring,” I continue with our story. I remember it like it was yesterday. “We had big plans of being together forever, but we were too young to get engaged. So you told me the promise ring was to hold me over, but it was a symbol of your commitment to me that we’d be together always.”
Those last words get stuck in my throat, my eyes a little wet.
“That ring was awful,” Jim says with a chuckle. “It was the best I could afford, but I remember the silver tarnished and turned your finger black.”
I can’t help but laugh. The design was precious—just a simple band with two interlocking hearts on top—but it ended up going on a necklace I could wear to save a blackened finger.
I have no clue where that ring is. True to his word, I got a bigger and better ring when he proposed to me after I accidentally got pregnant with Lucy. It was just a matter of time because it was going to happen anyway—the engagement, not the pregnancy—our timetable just got hastened a bit.
“I thought I should recreate that moment, too,” Jim says, and my gaze falls to his hands. I had forgotten he was holding something there. He reveals a black box, then opens it. In the candlelight, I can see diamonds twinkling. “I had a jeweler recreate the design. I hope I got it right as my memory isn’t the sharpest.”
I gasp as I see he did indeed get the design completely right. Thin band, the interlocking hearts identical to the ring he gave me, except this one isn’t made of cheap silver but rather encrusted with diamonds.
“Jim,” I whisper, overwhelmed and scared all at once. Because this right here is having an impact on me as I’m sure he knew it would.
“It’s a new promise,” he says softly, taking the ring from the box. Jim picks up my left hand and zeroes in right where my wedding band and engagement ring used to rest but I took them off the day I asked him to leave.
Part of me wants to jerk my hand away, while another wants to throw myself into his arms.
Instead, I hold my breath while he slides the ring onto my fourth finger and the weight of it feels right.
“It’s my promise to you, Ella, that I’m going to do whatever I need to do to give you the happiness I apparently denied you for so long. I can’t apologize enough for it, but I’m hoping your heart can forgive and learn to trust in me again, no matter how long it takes. I just want a fair shot.”
My eyes go from the ring twinkling from the candles to Jim’s face, whose expression is more earnest than I have ever seen before. While I don’t know if he can truly change to make me happy in the way I need, I firmly believe he’s going to try his hardest.
I don’t answer, merely leaning even farther forward to touch my palms to his cheeks. Curving them, I use the leverage to pull him to me and I kiss my husband.
Softly at first, a kiss filled with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.
Deeper after I inhale his fragrance and feel his hands at my ribs.
I can’t seem to stop myself, so I push off the chaise and straddle Jim’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. This kiss goes deeper, Jim groaning in approval at my bold move. His hands slide to my back, then down to my ass. He inches them under my t-shirt—his t-shirt really—and flirts with the edge of my panties.
Immediately, I go soft and wet for him. Just that little touch coupled with his kiss has me yearning for everything from this man. He’s offered to do whatever it takes to make me happy. At this moment, I don’t need another thing.
Jim’s mouth pulls from mine, skating down my neck. I shiver as his lips graze my skin, and he murmurs, “There’s one other thing we could do to recreate that night.”
A bolt of lust hits me between my legs, and Jim pulls back to look at me for permission. His hands are still on my ass as he tilts his head, waiting for my approval.
That night, after he told me he loved me and I said it back, I let Jim touch me between my legs for the first time. It was transcendental for me. In hindsight, I’m surprised I didn’t lose my virginity that night, but Jim is the master at dragging things out to build up the need.
I answer him by pressing my lips to his, fisting my hand
s in his hair and kissing him hard. Jim groans as he kisses me back.
And then his hand is down the front of my panties, his long finger pressing into me. My head falls back at the feel of that invasion, so thin compared to his cock… but for someone who hasn’t felt that inside of her in such a long time, so filling, too.
My back arches, and I cry out as he crooks his finger inside me. I start to squirm as he drags it out, immediately starting to circle my clit with all the moisture he gathered. My hips start rotating, pushing into his hand, demanding he go faster. Jim’s hand goes to the back of my head and he crushes his mouth on me, our kissing only heightening the pleasure for us because, truly, it’s the most intimate of acts.
It takes no time at all before my husband’s expert ministrations have me breaking apart and it feels so damn good it brings tears to my eyes. I fall into his chest, putting my head on his shoulder as he withdraws his hand from my panties. He pulls my t-shirt down in the back, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist to hold me to him. I can feel the hard length of his erection pressed against my core, yet he makes no move to do anything about it.
He won’t either.
His goal was to recreate that night we first gave our hearts to each other, and he’s done it to perfection.
We sit like that for what seems like hours, but it’s not. I don’t want it to end, but Jim disentangles our bodies, lifting me into a standing position along with him.
One hand wraps around my neck to hold me in place, and I feel the press of his lips on my forehead. “Goodnight, Ella. I love you.”
“Goodnight,” I reply, and because I never stopped loving him, I give the words back.
It’s the fact Jim continues to walk away through the darkness to the side gate that assures me he knows this was a start, but that’s all it was.
I grab my box of oatmeal cream pies and blow out the candles, leaving the grape juice behind. I’ll come out in the morning to clean it up. I pad back into the house to my bedroom.
Before I go to bed, I eat one of the cookies as I lean against my headboard. I replay this evening, from the moment Jim sent me that text. More than once, I replay the orgasm I just had, which I swear I can still feel tingling between my thighs.
Steele Page 7
