Eligible Ex-Husband: A Hero Club Novel

by Marie Johnston

  “Simon…” Disappointment oozes from Mother.

  I shake my head. “I know I’m not Liam and that I’ll never live up to him. I know you’d rather he was around and not me, but I can’t control that. I love Natalie. She’s shown me how to really care for someone and I don’t want to lose her. So, I’m serious. If you can’t treat her with respect and cut out all the subtle digs and the cold shoulder, then I’m sorry, but I can’t expose the girls to seeing their mother get treated that way. I love you both, but that’s where we stand.”

  I give them a sharp nod and walk away before an argument starts. Natalie and the girls are loaded up, but her questioning gaze is on me. My expression must tell her it wasn’t a congenial goodbye.

  When I slide into the driver’s seat, all I say is, “Tell you when we get home.”

  The drive is quiet and the girls run inside as soon as I park. I stare out the windshield, my chest tight, as I tell Natalie what I said.

  She twists her hands. “I can’t believe—”

  “That’s the problem.” I twist in the seat so I can face her properly. “You can’t believe I’d stand up to my parents for you. I should’ve done it years ago. I’m sorry.”

  She rests her hand on my pecs as if she senses the turmoil inside. “I feel guilty as hell. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you. Have you ever…”

  She knows the answer. I’ve never told them what I really think.

  “I wish it was more of a release, but it was… disheartening. Because I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again.” I don’t know if they’ll ever get over themselves enough to try to be in our life.

  But it was necessary, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to save this marriage.

  Chapter 21

  Natalie

  I puff through the plank that Aleah is running me through. She counts down, but each second feels like a minute.

  “Good job,” she says as she resets her timer.

  I drop to the floor and lay my head on my arms. My gut is aching from my third set of planks, but it’s nothing unusual for working with Aleah. Not to mention that I haven’t been diligent about my training the last month or so.

  I’ve been tired. Just worn out down to my bones.

  I hope I’m not sick, but I haven’t been able to shake this icky feeling since the day Simon cut his parents off. That was three weeks ago. My half-marathon is in two weeks and I don’t think I’ve got even a four-mile run in me. The long runs I’ve had to do turned into a jog-walk ordeal.

  “You’re flagging today, my dear.” Aleah sits with her legs crossed on the mat next to me. I hope that means I get a rest.

  “I’m tired.” I roll to my side and prop my head in my hand.

  “Not sleeping well?”

  “I don’t think it’s that. I’ve been feeling run down for a while. Probably because I haven’t been training enough.”

  She narrows her dark eyes. “Do you think you’ve been overtraining?”

  Do I look as guilty as I feel? “Definitely not. I’ve missed a few workouts”—I grimace— “each week.”

  She smiles, but she’s still considering me. “How’s Mr. North Dakota?”

  My face heats. We’ve been great. Tighter than ever, especially since the fallout with his parents. “He’s still busy, but making more of an effort. His assistant has started sifting through applicants, and they might move buildings soon, but we’re good.”

  “And your work?”

  “It’s just waiting for my go-live date. Everything’s done really. Once I launch, then I might be a little busier, but not until I sign a couple of clients. That won’t be until after school starts anyway.”

  She takes her eyes off me and scans the gym. It’s only mid-morning and the place isn’t very busy. My mom took the girls so I wouldn’t be so terribly behind on training when I toed the starting line. If I didn’t come today, I knew I wouldn’t do anything, much less my training run. I didn’t do my long run this week. Or last.

  She glances at the trainer working with her client by the mirrors, they’re the closest ones to us, then she quietly asks me, “Do you think you could be pregnant?”

  I sputter and laugh, but my smile freezes. Could I be?

  Aleah lifts a shoulder. “I remember when you told me what a surprise Abby was since you were on the pill. It’s none of my business though.”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think…” Oh God. Nausea. Tired all the time. I don’t care who can see, but I palm a boob. Yeah, they’ve been a little more tender lately. “Shit.”

  “Sore?”

  I nod, my vacant stare stuck on the hot pink mat Aleah’s sitting on. “How could I let this happen?” We didn’t use a backup before because it never mattered if I got pregnant. Our plans for more kids got pushed to the side as a well if it happens… What if it happened?

  While we’re divorced?

  “No need to get worked up until you know for sure.” Aleah’s calm voice breaks into my thoughts. “But I think since you’re so worn out, we can cut the run a little short.”

  “If I am pregnant, what do I do about the race?”

  She lifts a shoulder and she’ll never know how much I need her unflappable personality right now. “It’s up to you and how you feel. Most moms are just fine. You were training before and we aren’t changing it much before you’d need to do it. Stay hydrated. Rest. But I’ll give you the official response and tell you to talk to your doctor.” She leans forward and gives me a wink. “Just make sure it’s a doctor that knows what they’re talking about.”

  I roll back to my stomach and sink my head into my hands. “Oh my God, Aleah. I wouldn’t even know how far along I am.”

  She chuckles. “You wouldn’t be the first one. Babies don’t always look at the calendar. But I’m going to repeat that you don’t know yet.”

  I lift my head. “I need to find out.”

  Her expression is rueful as she stands. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  I force myself to take the time to clean up, but it’s the fastest shower ever. After getting dressed and throwing my hair in a ponytail, I breeze out of the gym.

  Do I buy the pregnancy test and take it before I pick the kids up? Mom’s used to me running an errand or two after my appointments.

  No, I’m going to buy it and take it in the store. I have no plan of what store I’m going to go to, but I drive in the direction of my parents’ place. I pass a grocery store with a pharmacy and swing in.

  Finding the pregnancy test is no problem, it’s like there’s a homing beacon. My gaze darts around, looking for familiar faces. This act always feels so private. My life is in a major transition right now and I’d rather not share the news—if there is any news—with anyone else.

  Self-checkout has an open till and I whip through, stuffing the test in my purse after paying. My luck is riding at one hundred percent. There are bathrooms by the entry and exit doors.

  I scurry into the women’s restroom, crouched in on myself as if it’s going to help make me invisible. It’s empty, so I duck into a stall and rip the packaging open.

  Going through the all-too-familiar process takes me back to finding out I was expecting Abby. I did the same exact thing. I didn’t want to risk bringing the test back to my dorm room, so I ducked into a department store bathroom and hid all the evidence when I was done.

  Okay. I go through the pee-on-a-stick procedure. I only have to wait a minute, and I count each second.

  I can’t tear my gaze off the mustard yellow door of the stall. If I thought Aleah’s minute plank ticked by slowly, this sixty seconds is eternity.

  My heart’s slamming against my ribs when I look down.

  Positive.

  Simon

  The house is quiet as I ease through the door. It’s almost nine. The last few nights I’ve come home late, but this is the latest. It’s still earlier than before we divorced.

  I toe off my shoes and refrain from calling out for anyone. Since it’s summer
and the girls go to bed later than a school night, I go to their room first.

  Only the light between their bedroom and the guest room is on. Murmuring and giggles drift out of the room.

  I lean in the doorway. “Are my girls awake?”

  “Daddy!” Maddy rolls off the bottom bunk and runs for me. Abby clambers over Natalie. I give them both hugs as a subdued Natalie crawls off the bed, her smile wan and half-hidden by shadows.

  As I finish tucking the kids in, Natalie ghosts out. My husband intuition is strong. There’s something wrong.

  I expect to find her on the couch, or in the kitchen, or even doing laundry. But she’s in our bedroom, sitting on her side of the bed, her hands gripping the edge. I close the door and drop down next to her.

  “Need to talk?” I ask.

  “We have to.” We sit for several moments before she speaks again. “I’m pregnant.”

  My world comes to a standstill. She’s… we’re… “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah,” she says with a rasp.

  A baby. A bigger family. Just like when I felt like I lost mine, we’re expanding in the tiniest but most momentous of ways. Another kid.

  I can’t stop my smile. Throwing my arms around her, I hold her and laugh.

  Her own laughter starts stilted and thready but gains in confidence. “I knew you’d be thrilled.”

  There’s enough gravity in her tone to warn me. I let her go enough to look at her, to see her expression. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes brimming with anxiety.

  “You’re not as excited.” Part of my elation plummets. I know this is unplanned and kind of an unusual time, but we both wanted more kids.

  “Yes, I am. Sort of.” She pushes her hair off her forehead, holding it back as she stares at the carpet as if she sees patterns where there’s only solid print. “Not only are we divorced, but I had plans. I’ll always welcome a baby. I love kids. I love our kids. But I was just…”

  “Just what?”

  She switches her focus to her fingers, twining against each other. “Reclaiming myself. For so many years, I’ve been mom. Wife. Simon Gainesworth’s assistant. Dreaded daughter-in-law.” We share a small smile. “But the last few months, I’ve been able to figure out what interests me. As an adult. We were just kids when we met, then I was a mom, and we had the company, and I had no hobbies of my own that didn’t involve scheduling your appointments or reloading a diaper bag.”

  Because I wasn’t around. I was gone so much that she couldn’t be Natalie Gainesworth. I separate her hands with mine, keeping them all wrapped together. “I’m around now.”

  “Yeah. You are. I want to be excited, but my mind is stuck on now what?”

  “How far along?”

  Her low chuckle has only a hint of humor. “The first time I felt sick was when your parents were here, but I have no idea.”

  “Nice.”

  She giggles and elbows me. “It’s so very junior year of college.”

  “One day we’re going to figure out what’s causing it.”

  “You’ve said that every time now.”

  “Still funny.” I draw her into my arms and fall back. Our legs are hanging off the bed and I’m still in my slacks and button-up, but my tie is long gone. I’m like Superman leaving the office. Stripping out of my clothing as soon as I can. I miss my dad uniform of shorts and a T-shirt.

  I miss my kids during the day.

  Today, I even took a quick break, which I never do, and searched online for soccer drills for five and eight-year-olds. Lately, I’ve been catching myself drifting off, thinking about other fun family things I can do with the kids. Or activities we can do while Natalie does her own thing.

  Now we’re going to have a baby again. I think back to Abby and Maddy as babies. I did the midnight diaper changes and all hours of the night feedings. I was here if they were sick—at night. I missed their first rollover. Natalie was the one who discovered tiny little teeth pushing through. First steps? Missed those.

  It didn’t matter if those momentous events happened on the weekends, I was gone.

  “I’m going to be there,” I say again, unsure if it’s for her benefit or mine.

  “I know you want to be.”

  Ouch. “There are going to be days…” She knows all that. She doesn’t want to hear me promise it, she wants me to keep that promise. “Don’t worry. It’s early yet, the beginning of August. You can be what, six weeks along at the most?”

  She nods, her soft hair tickling my chin. “Probably. I’m sure I forgot a pill or two when the girls were sick and then just never noticed that time of the month was so late.”

  “When do we tell the girls?”

  “I’d rather wait for the second trimester.”

  Which might be sooner than we know. “Your parents?”

  “Same.”

  “What about your work?”

  She rolls on her side. “I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t want to walk away entirely, but I thought that maybe I can still launch, but only accept a light client load. And it might be slim pickings when I tell them I’ll be off for maternity leave, but some people might just be looking for someone to jump-start their social media, or calendar planning, get them into a routine they can keep up with. They might not want long-term.”

  Energy infuses her when she talks about Let Me Assist You. She’s excited, and she’s been waiting. I need to make sure she’ll get the time she needs.

  I roll to my side to face her. Being this close, and on our bed, is enough to wake my dick up. Talking about our future together sends more blood that direction. I tug her closer. She tilts her chin up, and I want to do what I’m good at—showing her how much I love her by loving her body.

  But the need to comfort her hasn’t left. “It’ll be all right.”

  “I know.” She starts unbuttoning my shirt. I lean back to give her more room, grateful that she’s up for sex. “Is this the part where we have sex right away after I tell you I’m pregnant?”

  That’s how we handled the news in the past. “I’d hate to ruin a perfect record.”

  Her breath wafts over my chest as she laughs. She’s made it down to my pants and works on the button and zipper. “I’ve been remembering those other two times all day and I have to admit that I need this now.”

  She frees my erection and wraps her fingers around it, stroking up and down.

  I groan and roll as flat on my back as I can. Since I leave for work first, the bed’s not made and a wad of blankets is under my shoulder. I’m not going to let it deter me or her.

  She gives me a few more pumps before wiggling out of her bottoms. I’d like to do more to her. I’d like to throw her legs over my shoulder and make it impossible for her to hold in her cries. I’d like to shut the lights off in the house and take her to bed for the night, using as much time as I need.

  But I sense her need for control in a situation she has surprisingly little control of. She loves her kids, she wanted more, but it’s her daily schedule that’s going to have to change and morph to fit the new addition in our life.

  None of the rest of our clothes are removed and I think she’s going to straddle me when she says, “I want to feel your weight on me.”

  Control and security. I can give her both.

  She lays back and I sit up and do as she asked, but I don’t push inside of her. My cock is pinned between us, her blistering hot center only inches from it, but I ask, “Now what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to…” She sucks her lip back between her teeth and her face flames. “I want you to fuck me.”

  It’ll always be sexy to hear my wife say that. “Slow? Fast?”

  “Fast. And… hard.”

  I readjust, wetting myself in her slick heat and thrusting inside. Fast and hard I pump and she clings to me. I can’t get to her breasts through her shirt so I dominate her mouth. Our tongues clash and our teeth bump together as the force of my hips and hers shake the bed.
<
br />   I should be able to last longer, but thanks to the way she’s writhing under me, wanting more, wanting it harder, I’m ready to blow. I manage to hang on until her legs clamp around my hips and her walls convulse around me. Her cries mingle with mine, but we stay locked at our mouths and our hips as we ride our crests. Heat blooms between us and I barely notice my pants stuck around my knees or my shirt bunched around my shoulders.

  I release the kiss but keep my forehead touching hers.

  “I needed that,” she says.

  “I’ll always be there for you—especially when it comes to sex.” I gently leave her body and help her stand. “I’ll shut the lights off and come back to bed.”

  She ducks into the bathroom and I toss my shirt into the dirty laundry. I remove my phone and kick out of my pants. There’s an email notification from Helena.

  I peek at the bathroom. It won’t hurt to check the email. I don’t have to act on it.

  I won’t act on it. Natalie needs me tonight. She’ll feel better if she can go to sleep with me not balls deep into my phone.

  But I bring it up, just so I know what to expect in the morning. I don’t make it past the first sentence.

  This is my notice of resignation.

  Chapter 22

  Simon

  Things had been going so well. I drum my fingers on my knee, waiting for Helena to talk. We have an hour buffer before I start meeting with clients and I want answers.

  Why now? Why not after we moved and trained new staff? Why fucking now?

  I’m supposed to coach soccer, for God’s sake. Two teams.

  Helena looks like shit. Her hair hangs limp on her shoulders and her back is stooped like she’s carrying the weight of the world. I have a fleeting hope that her resignation was an impulsive send and that she had a good night’s think on it and sees that this is the best job ever and wants to stay.

  Is it the best job ever? Would I recommend working for me?

  That thought stops my drum solo at the same time as she answers. “It’s the hours. I might not always be in the office but I’ve been working seventy to eighty-hour weeks. Even before the beginning of June, it was sixty hours a week.”