“Can I use your clear nail polish?”
“It’s in my purse on the kitchen counter!”
I laugh against Katie’s pink skin.
“You think this is funny?” she whispers. She jerks my hair, forcing me to look up at her.
“I think it’s fucking hilarious,” I snort out.
“Are you sure you want to sign up for this kind of thing?”
“Eating you out? Yes. If there’s a sign-up sheet, I want to sign up for it every single day.”
“No, I mean kids. There will never, ever be a time when they’re not out there, somewhere.” She throws up her hands and falls back against the bed.
“Then we’ll have to get really good at doing this quickly.” I slide two fingers inside her and she freezes when I crook them and find that squishy spot inside her, just as I latch on to her clit and give it a suck.
Her neck arches back against the bed and she cups her breasts, tweaking her nipples ever so slightly, and if I wasn’t afraid of coming in my pants a minute ago, I definitely am now. I roll my hips against the bed, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
She’s slippery wet inside and hot and tight as she squeezes down around my fingers. I hum against her clit and she rocks her hips, riding my face as I bring her higher and higher. Her fingers pull tightly against my hair, just enough to show me the amount of pressure and speed she wants.
“Jake,” she whispers on a gasp, and then I feel her walls clamp down hard on my fingers as her body bows up tight, and she comes while I lick her through her orgasm. She shudders, and I slow my tugs and pulls and use my tongue to bring her back down. I don’t stop until she retreats a little, trying to get away from my mouth.
I wipe my mouth on the inside of her thigh and crawl up her body until I can kiss her. “Was that quick enough?” I ask with a laugh.
Another knock sounds on the door. “Katie,” her dad calls out. “You have a hungry baby out here.”
“Okay,” she calls back faintly. “I’ll be right there. I’m just getting dressed.”
“Hey, Katie,” her dad calls out again.
“What?” she squeaks back. She puts her hand over my mouth to stop my laughter.
“Tell Jake his wife is waiting in the kitchen. She says she’s staying for dinner?”
“Ex-wife!” Katie replies.
“Well, she’s in the kitchen. So send him out, will you? And come feed this kid. He’s trying to suck on my chin!”
Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I drop my face into her neck and laugh.
Katie shoves my shoulder. “Hey, your wife is in the kitchen waiting to help us all make dinner.”
“Ex-wife,” I say, and I kiss her. Her lips are tender and soft and her body is relaxed under mine. Her legs are spread wide and I’m nestled right where I want to be, but I roll off of her. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“I’d help you with it, but my kid is hungry. And another one needs nail polish. Another is probably still looking for that football. And I’m sure Trixie needs something too, she just hasn’t realized it yet.” She laughs and starts to get dressed. Her hair is a mess and she’s not wearing makeup and I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. She starts to walk toward the door, but I grab her hand and spin her back to face me.
“When I tell you I love you, does it scare you away?” I say.
She shakes her head, nibbling on her lower lip as she stares into my eyes. “No, it doesn’t.”
She quickly brushes her hair and then lets herself out of the room, and I take the quickest cold shower known to mankind.
I wrap a towel around my hips and open the door, looking to see if anyone is in the hallway, and then I dart across the hall to my room. I close the door behind me and look at the bed. In the center of the bedspread rests a box of condoms.
God, I wish I’d had these five minutes ago.
42
Katie
I walk with wary steps down the hallway, knowing that I’m going to bump into Laura and I won’t know what to say to her. I won’t know how to explain what Jake is to me and how we came to be together before they were even divorced. I have no idea how to talk to the woman that Jake used to love, the woman he will always have a history with.
I walk into the kitchen to find my dad bouncing Hank on his shoulder while Hank alternates screaming with trying to suck on Dad’s face. “Please take this thing,” he pleads as soon as he sees me. “Or I’m going to have to explain to Adam why I have hickeys all over my chin.” He uncovers his shoulder so I can see it. “Look at this. He tried to suck on my shoulder.”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve seen you with a hickey,” I taunt, and I hold my arms out for my baby. He’s in full-on screaming mode by now. “Where’s Laura?”
He nods toward the porch. She’s sitting in a chair facing the water, holding her baby as she feeds her. “I think I’ll join her.”
“Fred and Mr. Jacobson went to set up the grill and start unloading the carts with the burgers and stuff. Send Jake down there when he comes out of your room.” He stares hard at me.
“Dad,” I say on a heavy sigh, “we were just talking.”
“Yeah, sure you were.” He snorts out a laugh. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” He passes me two bottles of water, tucking them between my free arm and my chest. “Besides, Jake has good intentions.”
“How do you know what Jake’s intentions are?”
“He came to see me yesterday.” He pops a piece of cheese into his mouth and grins around it. Hank is screaming so loudly that I can barely hear Dad. “Go feed that thing,” he says. “I can’t think with all that noise.”
“Will you at least tell me later what he came to talk with you about?”
He rocks his head back and forth like he’s thinking about it. “Maybe,” he finally says with a grin. Then he sticks his fingers in his ears, grimaces, and I know this conversation is over.
I grab one of Hank’s thin blankets and go out to the porch. I lean over so Laura can take a bottle of water from me. “Thanks,” she says with a smile. “It’s really beautiful here,” she murmurs, staring out over the water.
I sit down to feed Hank and, finally, quiet settles around us. “It’s my favorite place on earth.”
“Jake always liked it here, too. He talked about it all the time.”
I wonder if he talked about me. I shake that thought away.
“He used to tell me stories about the crazy things he did with you and Freddy.”
I smile. “We had some really good times.”
“There’s some famous bridge near here?”
“Oh, wow, I haven’t thought of that in a really long time.”
“He said you guys all jumped off it.”
“If Mr. Jacobson knew we jumped off the Branson Ferry Bridge, he’d kill all of us, and he’d make it a slow and painful death involving toothbrushes and bathhouses.” I shudder. Thank God he never found out.
“Where is it?”
“About two miles from here. We walked in the dead of night to get there, because someone had told us a story around the campfire the night before, about a man who died there. Jumping off the bridge had become a stupid ‘rite of passage’ thing that kids around here did. Freddy was determined he wasn’t going to do it, but Jake just jumped right off. I remember standing there at the railing looking down, wondering if he was going to come up. Then his head popped up from the water and he started to laugh.”
“Jake was always fearless, then?” Laura shakes her head. “That’s one thing I won’t miss, wondering if he’s going to come home at the end of the day.”
“Is his job dangerous?”
“No more than any police officer. But his hobbies, they’re even worse. He jumps out of planes, he flies those big one-person kites…” Her voice trails off. “I can’t remember what they’re called. Anyway,” she says, “he’s always had a bit of a wild side. I never could keep up with him.” She stares at the placid lake waters. “Do you love him?
” she asks quietly.
I nod my head. “I think so. I didn’t expect to, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Freddy told me your husband died. I’m so sorry.”
I suck in a breath. “Me too. I wasn’t really looking for love. But I’m glad it found me.”
Laura stares at me as we both sit and feed our children, and then we go to the grill area to see if the burgers are done yet. I’m getting hungry.
Freddy and Jake are standing over the grill, each with a beer in his hand and several empty bottles stacked up next to them. They’re chatting and talking, and I stop to watch them.
“They seem to have gotten over their issues,” Laura says.
“I doubt they’ve gotten over it. They’ve just decided to move past it.”
Mr. Jacobson barks at them both. “Get away from my grill,” he mumbles. “You’re making a mockery of my good reputation.”
“I don’t remember you having a good reputation, Mr. Jacobson,” Freddy blurts out.
Mr. Jacobson whacks the back of Freddy’s arm with a dirty, greasy spatula. “You had a bug on you,” he says. He gives the spatula to Freddy so he can rinse it off with the hose.
“Ow,” Freddy complains, rubbing the offended spot. “Come and kiss it for me, Jake,” he says. Then he turns the hose on Jake and sprays him.
Jake looks around and the only thing he can find to get back at Freddy with is the great big ketchup bottle. So he opens it up, turns it toward Freddy, and gives it a squeeze.
“Boys,” Mr. Jacobson starts to say.
But they’re both young enough and drunk enough that they don’t care. Freddy sprays Mr. Jacobson with the hose and Jake shoots him with the ketchup. Mr. Jacobson isn’t the type to take it sitting down, though, and pretty soon, it’s a food fight of epic proportions, and Mr. Jacobson is winning, hands down. The whole campground has stopped to watch. Freddy and Jake finally give up once Mr. Jacobson is sitting on them; he has taken away the hose and the ketchup, and he pelts them both with them.
“Enough!” Jake cries.
“Stop! I give up!” Freddy yells over his laughter.
“I’m too old for this,” Mr. Jacobson grunts as he rolls off Jake and lets Freddy’s leg go.
“You’re only as old as you feel, Pop,” Jake says with a chuckle.
“I have sperm in my nut sack older than you, boy. Not to mention the dirt between my toes.”
“Ew,” Laura says.
Mr. Jacobson turns his fake glare on Laura, but Laura doesn’t know him well enough to know it’s fake. “Girl, if you ever became intimately acquainted with my nut sack, you would not be saying ew.”
Laura swallows hard.
“C’mon, Pop, quit talking about your nut sack in front of the women.”
“Why are you four still here?” Mr. Jacobson asks. He glares at us all.
“We’re helping,” Jake says petulantly.
“Helping make my beer disappear,” Mr. Jacobson grumbles. Then he turns the hose toward them and puts his finger on the trigger. “You need some help getting cleaned up?”
“No!” Jake and Freddy yell in unison. They both back away, but Jake snags a six-pack of beer from the cooler, first.
“I’ll expect to see both of you tomorrow morning at seven at the bathhouse. Bring your toothbrushes.”
“Aw, man,” Freddy complains. He shoves Jake’s shoulder. “See what you did.”
“You fucked my wife,” Jake mumbles at him.
“That’s your last shot with that particular comment,” Freddy warns.
Jake nods, sticks out his ketchup-covered hand and Freddy takes it.
“Do you think we can be friends again?” Freddy suddenly asks Jake as they pump hands.
“Good possibility,” Jake says.
“Good,” Freddy says quietly. “Because I really miss you.”
Jake grins. “Same here.”
“I’ll race you to the lake,” Freddy says.
Before Jake can even respond, Freddy takes off running for the dock. Jake is right behind him, and they both dive into the water at the same time, at the same angle, with the same amount of speed.
“Have they always been this competitive?” Laura asks.
“Oh, this is nothing,” I say, as we follow them to the water’s edge, where Laura puts Patty’s feet in the water while Jake and Freddy try to dunk one another. “They used to be worse.”
“What could be worse?” Laura asks.
“Oh, imagine that ketchup fight with ice cream, chocolate syrup, and all the fixings of a sundae.”
“That sounds kind of yummy, actually,” Laura says.
“It does, doesn’t it,” I reply. Then we laugh together.
“I’m glad we got to meet,” Laura says.
“Me too,” I say. I want Freddy to be happy.
Freddy gets out of the lake, but Jake stays treading water at the end of the dock. “Come and join me, Katie,” he calls.
“What do I get out of it if I do?” I call back.
“Me!” he returns.
I pass Hank, who is sound asleep, to Freddy and shuck off my t-shirt and shorts, since I’d put a bathing suit on under my clothes earlier. “Watch my baby, Freddy.”
“Like he’s my own,” Freddy says, and they walk back to their cabin.
Jake pulls me to him when I get to him in the water. “I’m going to need another shower,” I say.
“Pop left condoms on my bed for me.”
“Oh, my God!” I cry. “I found a box in my bedside table!”
“Pop strikes again,” Jake says, and then his arms slide around and he pulls me close.
“I’m glad you made up with Freddy,” I say.
“Me, too.” He nuzzles my neck. “I’ve missed him.”
“Tonight, after the kids are asleep, do you want to come to my room?”
“Hmm…he hums. “What are we going to be doing in your room?”
“We could play cards,” I suggest.
“Cards? I don’t think so.” He cups my breast on the water and gives it a squeeze.
“We could build a house out of Popsicle sticks.”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“We could play hide the salami.”
He pulls back so he can look at my face, his brows lifting toward the heavens. “You have been spending entirely too much time with Pop.”
“You don’t like my idea?” I bat my wet lashes at him.
“I love your idea. I’m just not sure if I want to think of salami when I finally get to be inside you.”
I wrap my legs around his waist. “Would you rather think about my awesome flower petals opening right up and taking you inside?”
He arches his hips, bumping against me, and my belly does that twisty thing that only happens with him. “I can still taste you on my tongue.”
“My awesome flower, you mean?” I laugh when he growls against my neck and comes up to nibble my ear.
Suddenly, bodies fly over our heads and hit the lake. I recognize Adam and Dad, three of my children, and then there’s a sixth splash as Sally hits the water.
“Sally can swim?” I ask Jake.
“I have no idea. I’ve spent exactly five minutes with that dog since I got him.”
Sally swims a circle around Trixie, sticking right with her. “He’s a good dog, Jake,” I tell him. “When we get married, I’m going to adopt him.”
Jake sucks in a breath.
“Too soon?” I ask, going stiff in his arms.
He pulls my head back to look into my eyes. “Not too soon,” he says, and then he kisses me, right there in front of everybody.
43
Jake
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. It could be minutes. It could be days. All I know is that I’m not with Katie, and where she is is where I desperately want to be. I want to be inside her. I want to be on top of her. I want to wrap her around me and never, ever let her go.
From down the hallway, Hank l
ets out that tiny little wail he does every night when he wakes up around midnight. It usually startles me out of my sleep every time he does it; not because it’s awful or annoying, but because I listen for it every single night. Even with the alarms I put on the doors and the windows, I still worry about them, and I suppose I’ll worry about them for the rest of my life.
I imagine Katie getting out of bed all bleary-eyed, shuffling over to his bassinette and scooping him up. Then she’ll sit down with him and bare her breast. Since she’s in her room, she won’t worry about covering up. It’ll be her and Hank and the quiet of the night as she feeds him and rocks him back to sleep in my mother’s old rocking chair. In my fantasies, I’m the one who hears him cry out in the night, and I get up, get him, and take him to her. I’m the one who bares her breast for him and I wait until he’s done feeding so I can put him back to bed.
I want to ease some of Katie’s burden.
But even more than that, I want to fuck her.
I want to sink deep inside her, steal her breath, and not give it back until she’s clenching around me. I’ll pulse deep inside her, and she’ll tighten and cry out my name.
I roll over and pound my fist into my pillow. I have never wanted anyone or anything as badly as I want her. And I want her forever. I don’t want her for a moment, or for a short time, or for an experience. I want her always. I want her early morning and her late night. I want her midday and I want her bedtime. I just want her.
I lie there waiting, counting the minutes until I can go and crawl into bed with her, until I can be inside her.
Screw it. I’m just going to go to her. I toss the covers back and just as I do, my door opens with a soft snick. I look up and Katie steps into my room, closing the door softly behind her. She leans her forehead against the door and presses her palms against the wood. In one hand, she’s holding the receiving end of the wireless baby monitor.
“Katie,” I say quietly as I go to stand next to her. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and a tiny pair of sleep shorts. Her dark hair is plaited in a loose braid over her shoulder.
“I was going crazy waiting for you,” she says quietly, and I hear the tremor in her voice.
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