My Two Husbands: A Laugh Out Loud Romantic Comedy

by Amanda Aksel

“Hi,” I say, but I really want to say, “I don’t care how big your biceps are. Why are you here interrupting my conversation?!”

  “This is my best friend. We just came in to get a drink,” Kyle says. “But then, you know, I saw you, and I just couldn’t help myself. I hope you don’t mind.” There’s a gleam in his eye that says I’m not gonna let him get in the way of us.

  Jake takes the open seat on my other side. “I don’t mind at all.” Well, I guess it’s the three of us now. “Whiskey sour.” Jake lifts his hand, getting the bartender’s attention as Kyle’s matching glass of wine is delivered.

  I can feel Jake’s eyes burn into me with curiosity. “Hey, aren’t you the agent on the McDaniel’s build?”

  I turn to him. “Yeah, how’d you know that?”

  “I knew I recognized you from somewhere. I’m on the construction team.” That would explain the dirt beneath his fingernails.

  “Well, you guys are doing a great job. It’s really coming together.”

  He smiles, dimples appearing like magic. “Thanks.”

  Kyle leans in. “So you’re a real estate agent.”

  I give a proud nod. “Yes, I am. I closed on a property today actually.”

  “Congratulations!” Kyle and Jake raise their glasses, and we toast to the moment. It’s a pretty good day considering that I went from being alone to sandwiched between two very handsome men.

  I glance over his suit. “So what do you do, Kyle?”

  “I’m a stockbroker with Victor Manning.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “A-ha, so you are a sales guy.”

  “I’d like to think that I’m best at servicing . . . my clients.”

  “Don’t let this guy fool you—he could sell a sunburn to a Floridian,” Jake chimes in. What a terrible wingman.

  Kyle reaches across my back over to pat Jake’s shoulder. “Please. Stop. You’re too kind.”

  “Just tellin’ the truth.” Jake sips from his short glass. One guy was fun, but two guys having a whose dick is bigger contest is too much for me.

  I take one last drink of my chilly wine and set the glass down. “You know what, I think I’m going to head out.”

  “Already? I just sat down,” Kyle says.

  “Yeah, I have to finish a little work. It was nice meeting you though. Both of you.” I shoot Jake a half glance.

  “Can I see you again? Maybe dinner, Saturday night?” The sweet blond asks.

  “She’s a real estate agent. I’m sure the weekends are her busiest days of the week,” Jake sounds again with his unsolicited commentary. But it’s true.

  “Yeah. Saturday night doesn’t work for me. How about Tuesday?”

  Kyle doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Tuesday’s perfect.”

  I pull out my heavy-stock business card and hand it to him. “I’ll see you then.” I give him one last smile before walking away, swaying my hips in case he’s watching. I like Kyle. I just wish he’d ditch his cute friend.

  ***

  On Tuesday, I stop by the new construction to get some updated photos of the property. Drills and saws screech around me as I walk from room to room. The kitchen finally has new tile, though it’s coated in white dust. A man is tucked halfway inside the sink cabinet, pieces of PVC pipes scattered near his feet.

  The guy lifts his head, his eyes fixed on my legs. “Hey, Quinn.”

  I narrow my gaze as he slides out and take in his familiar sweaty face. “Jake?”

  “How you doin’? Hey, do me a favor and hand me that tub of putty over there.” I retrieve the sandy container and hand it to him. “Thanks,” he says. “You supervising today?”

  I fold my arms, popping my hip. “No. Should I be?”

  “So you looking forward to your date tonight?” He smirks.

  I narrow my eyes. “I am, actually. Jealous?”

  “I guess that depends on what happens after dinner.”

  I stick out my tongue, making a gagging noise. “Let me guess. You don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Nope.” He crawls inside the cabinet as if he wants me to talk to his ass.

  “I’m starting to understand why.”

  “Hey, that hurts my feelings.” His sincere words echo beneath the sink.

  I frown and bite my lip. Now, I’m the one who feels like an ass.

  He crawls back out and sits on his knees. Sweat drips down his chest inside his white v-neck. “I’m just kidding. But it’s sweet that you care.”

  Nope, he’s the ass. “So this is your thing? You like teasing people?”

  “I think you like it when I tease you.”

  I want to tell him off, but I’m too distracted by this tingle running up my spine. The guy says all the wrong things, so why do I find myself wanting him to do all the right things to me? I wet my lips.

  “Look,” he starts, “I love Kyle. He’s my best friend. But I can tell, he’s not the guy for you.”

  “Who said anything about looking for the guy?”

  “Exactly. Kyle’s the committed type. And you’re . . .”

  “What?”

  “You’re not ready for that.”

  Is it that obvious? “Don’t you think he’d be pretty pissed if he knew you were saying these things to me?”

  “I’m only saying it because I don’t want my friend to get hurt. You’re exactly the type of girl, I mean woman, who would break his heart.”

  If what he’s saying about Kyle is true, he’s probably right. I’m almost tempted to marry Kyle and have his baby just to prove this know-it-all wrong. “How did you know my last name was Quinn anyway?” Nice way to steer the conversation, Natalie.

  “It’s on that big sign in the yard. The one with your picture on it.”

  “Right.” I tap my foot.

  “On the job we call each other by our last names.”

  “So what should I call you?” Besides annoying.

  “Call me Bruno.” He winks and crawls back under the sink. I stare at him a little longer wanting to stomp off but feeling glued to the grout. “You can stop staring at my ass now, Quinn.”

  I grit my teeth and walk off.

  EPISODE TWO

  “J ake,” Marissa replies finally, and my stomach tightens. Ever since that one visit Jake paid to my office two years ago when he finally had to admit his gambling debts because his car was being repossessed, I get a little anxious when he comes here. Not that he’s here very often.

  That would be weird.

  I glance down at the unopened snickers bar on my desk, the one I picked up on the way back from the showing with the Delures. “Send him in.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And Marissa,” I say with a stern tone.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Jake is my ex-husband.”

  “Right. Sorry. I’ll send your ex-husband back.”

  An annoyed sigh expels from my lungs, and moments later, Jake walks in. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him in his slate-gray suit. The bright white of his open collared shirt pops against his tan skin.

  “How’s it goin’, Quinn?” he asks, shutting the door.

  I stretch my lips back into a wide smile. “It’s going great!”

  Jake’s eyes fall to my desk, and he picks up my candy bar. “I guess you struck out again with the French couple, huh?” That’s the thing about ex-husbands—they can always call your bluff.

  I snatch back the chocolate. “Yep.”

  He raises his eyebrow as if to remind me that I should get rid of them, then takes a seat in one of my upholstered, sea green chairs.

  “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Please don’t bring me any more bad news.

  He grins in a way that I know something good is about to happen. “I landed the job.”

  My eyes fly open. “You did? Really?” Oh my god, he’s finally getting his life back together.

  “Yeah.” His finger taps a rhythm on the armrest. “I just wanted to tell someone.”

  “Oh, you haven’t told Ky
le yet?” I knit my brow slightly.

  “No, I wanted to tell you first.”

  “Oh.” I remember when Jake was the first person I wanted to share everything with. But since our divorce, that’s changed. I didn’t realize that I’m still that person for him.

  “Is that weird?” he asks.

  Everything about our situation is weird. Why should this be any different? “No, I mean, we’re friends, right?”

  His smile twists. “Yeah . . . we’re friends.”

  “Well, congratulations,” I say. “When does the job start?”

  “Two weeks. So by my calculations I’ll be moving out next month. Finally.”

  Now I’m the one with the crooked smile. “Yeah . . . finally.” I clear my throat. “That’s really great. Why don’t you, me, and Kyle go to dinner tonight to celebrate?”

  He nods, seeming slightly convinced. “Okay, that sounds good. I’ll pay. Can I pick the place?”

  “Of course. It’s your party.”

  ***

  That night the three of us walk in to Red Fish Blue Fish, one of the best seafood restaurants in the city. It hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here many years ago. The bar top is still a colorful aquarium, circular mirrors hang on the walls over the private booths, and the table linens are crisp and clean. Why did Jake want to come here? I can’t imagine that he forgot about the last time we were all here together.

  Kyle takes my hand and inhales a deep breath. “I can smell the lobster already.” I can’t smell a thing other than a mix of his cologne and Jake’s—the two distinct scents battling it out against the backdrop of seafood. The hostess walks us to our table and hands each of us a linen paper menu.

  “What do you say we drink first?” Kyle suggests. Jake and I share a look since Jake no longer drinks—a fact that Kyle sometimes forgets. But I’m definitely going to need a cocktail.

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  “Great. So, how was your day, honey?”

  I can still taste the caramel in my molars. “Not great. Still no deal with the Delures.”

  Kyle reaches out and gently rubs my bare shoulder. “Don’t worry, Natalie. You’ll get ‘em next time.” That’s something I love about my husband. He’s encouragingly hopeful.

  Our waiter comes to the table and introduces himself quickly before sharing the specials.

  “We’d like to start off with a bottle of Dom Perignon,” Kyle tells him.

  Jake’s hand immediately goes up. “Whoa, cowboy. Maybe you can drink a fifty dollar bottle instead.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Kyle says in his playful southern accent, giving a dismissive wave. “My treat.”

  Jake narrows his brows, and I know he’s not satisfied with the compromise. “Okay.”

  We sip from our water glasses quietly looking over the menu until our bubbly arrives. The waiter sets down three stemmed flutes.

  “None for me,” Jake says and instead raises his water glass. “I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you guys being there for me.”

  “We love you, buddy. To Jake Bruno and a fresh start.” Kyle tilts up his champagne. The three of us clink our glasses in a toast then sip slowly, our eyes shifting between one another. Sometimes I like to Google, “My ex-husband still lives with my husband and me,” just to see if there is anyone in the world who’s ever been in my situation. If you guessed that I’m the only one, then my search history says you’re right.

  My husband takes my hand and looks into my eyes like he’s trying to see the depths of my soul. “I don’t know if you remember, but this is where I took you on our very first date.” Kyle considers us to have had two first dates; one when we met eight years ago and the other much later when we started our real relationship. Anytime he talks about the former, he uses the word very.

  “I remember.”

  “I remember too,” Jake says, gripping onto the tablecloth.

  “Oh, that’s right.” Kyle chuckles. “I almost forgot you were there that night.”

  Jake smirks. “How could you forget after the waitress went psycho on you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. That was a minor confrontation.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You left the restaurant with crab cakes all over your shirt. You were a mess.”

  “You guys are both wrong,” I intervene. “That’s not what happened.”

  They both lean back in their chairs and narrow their eyes. “Okay, so what did happen?” Jake asks.

  My shoulders tense. “It doesn’t really matter. It was a hundred years ago.” I let out a nonchalant chuckle and sip from my crystal glass. The truth is, I’d rather not go back to that night. It was the night I made a choice that changed my life. Ever since Jake broke my heart, I’ve often wondered what would’ve happened if I had chosen differently.

  I have no idea where we’re going. Kyle says it’s a surprise, which for a first date with a guy you just met could be a really good thing, or a really bad thing. So when we pull up to the swanky boathouse-style restaurant, I feel nothing short of a relief.

  “Red Fish, Blue Fish,” I say, grinning. “I’ve been wanting to try this place.” What an upgrade. The last guy I went out with took me to a TGI Friday’s for onion rings and chicken fingers.

  Don’t get me wrong. I like fried food as much as anyone. But not for a first date.

  The valet opens the door for me, and Kyle tosses him the keys to his blue BMW 3 Series. My date is a complete gentleman—courteous, attentive. He even takes my hand as we walk inside. The bar is well lit by floating orb lights, illuminating the custom aquarium bar, which is decorated with colorful coral rocks and tiny fish swimming beneath the glass surface. Rows of windows give the restaurant a 180-degree view of the ocean, and a soft, salmon colored sunset glow fills the dining room.

  “Reservation for Kyle Landon,” he tells the hostess.

  She makes a mark in her paper book. “Right this way, Mr. Landon.”

  The restaurant is occupied by men in silk ties and women with silky hair, or as silky as it can be in this humidity. We’re probably the youngest couple in the restaurant, and I have to say that it makes me feel pretty damn good.

  Right away, Kyle orders a nice bottle of pinot grigio, surely a nod to our first meeting last week.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?” His eyes sparkle in the glow of the table candlelight.

  I blush. “You did, but there’s no harm in telling me twice.”

  He lets out a little laugh. “I’m glad we were able to make this happen tonight.”

  “Me too. I’m glad it’s just the two of us.” I think back to Jake and how his forehead glimmered with sweat that day at the job site. How he tried to ward me off of Commitment-Kyle. The nerve of that guy. By the look in Kyle’s eyes, he’s only interested in committing to tonight. And so am I.

  Of course I’d like to have a boyfriend—if only to stop wasting my time with some of the bozos I wind up with. But I’m not interested in anything too serious. Ideally, the guy will work as much as I do and have a knack for pleasuring me between the sheets.

  I take a quick look at the single-sheet menu. I’m in the mood for scallops.

  “Order anything you’d like,” he says. “But I highly recommend the crab cakes.”

  I glance at the description. “Mmm, that sounds good.”

  Kyle sets down his menu and gazes at me from across the white linen table. “So, Natalie, are you originally from West Palm?”

  “Connecticut, actually.”

  “Sounds nice.” He nods, seeming genuinely interested. “What was that like?”

  “Cold. You?”

  “I’m West Palm born and bred.” And by the sound of it, proud.

  “What was that like?”

  “Hot,” he says, and we both spit out a laugh.

  “Well, look who it is,” a deep voice barrels into on our conversation. Kyle and I turn our heads up to find Jake, standing tall next to a leggy blonde wit
h fiery-red lipstick and a skirt that barely clears her panties.

  What’s he doing here?

  “Hey man.” Kyle rises to his feet and shakes his annoying buddy’s hand. “What brings you here?”

  “I’m on a date. Just like you, I suppose.” Jake glances down at me. “How ya doin’, Quinn.”

  I send him a tight-lipped smile. “Great.”

  “This is Sonia. Sonia, this is my buddy Kyle, and this is Natalie.” The three of us nod, smiling in a friendly, yet awkward greeting.

  “I gotta be honest, Kyle. I thought you were planning to take her to a nicer place than this.” Jake scans the restaurant as if it’s subpar.

  My date chuckles. “What do you mean? This is a perfect first date spot.”

  Jake winds his arm around his date’s slender waist and plants a kiss on her neck. “Yes, it is.” Sonia giggles. “Anyway, we’ll let you get back to your evening.”

  “You two have a good night,” Kyle says as he holds his tie in place taking a seat. “What are the odds?”

  That’s a good question. I watch as Jake and Sonia sit at a table in my eye line. He takes the menu from the waiter, then winks at me from across the way. Okay, I’m 99 percent sure he did this on purpose.

  I look to Kyle. “Did you tell your friend where you were taking me tonight? Kinda funny that he showed up, don’t you think?”

  “Nah, he’s always dating someone new. I didn’t know he brought his dates here though. He’s more of a TGI Fridays kinda guy.”

  I glance over at Jake as he runs his finger softly against Sonia’s cheek. “Yeah, I can see that.” She kisses his finger and practically takes it into her mouth. I lean in and whisper, “Do you think Sonia’s a hooker?”

  “If she is, he’s not paying her.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  Kyle shrugs. “Jake doesn’t believe in paying for sex, and neither do I.”

  “Does that mean I should pay for my own dinner?”

  His eyes bulge and chokes back a sip of water.

  “I’m just kidding,” I say, and he laughs, looking relieved. “Or am I?” I send him a wink and return my attention back to the menu. What is it about teasing men that’s so fun?