by Mia Malone
“Lee –”
“So, if you want to break things off then just say so.”
He blinked and wondered if he’d passed out temporarily and missed part of their conversation.
“I don’t want to break anything up, and I don’t understand why you think I do,” he said slowly.
“You said we’d take a look at the toys and we haven’t,” she said.
There was confusion in her voice too now, and he got it then. She thought he was put off by her touching herself, there. That was fucking ridiculous on so many levels, but he hadn’t told her how he felt about it. And his silence had made her feel awkward. Shit.
“Baby, no,” he said, gently. “I was trying to,” he paused and tried to figure out what he’d tried to do. Lacking a better explanation, he settled for, “Show some restraint.”
God, he thought and felt like squirming. Had that sounded as lame as he thought it had?
“Restraint?” she hissed.
Yeah. It probably had sounded just that lame.
“You had an assclown of a husband who fell down so seriously on his job that I don’t have words for it. Then you had nothing except your fingers for a very long time. And then you had me.”
“Yes,” she said when he stopped speaking.
“First night I took you three times. After that, we’ve fucked like rabbits, and I am who I am, and who I am is a man who likes to be in charge. You said that’s what you wanted, babe, and you gotta know it blew me away, but it also means the sex we’ve had hasn’t exactly been climb on top and pump a few times kind of sex. I didn’t want you to think…” He trailed off and felt like an idiot. “I didn’t want to scare the shit out of you. You’re not used to –”
He stopped speaking when she raised her hand, although mostly because of the incredulous look on her face.
“You didn’t want to scare me?”
“Lee –”
“I might not have done all the things we do, but I’ve certainly fantasized about it. The first thing I did after I kicked Bob out of the house was to buy sex-toys, which I told you about. This includes a vibrator which I used on my ass, something I also shared with you,” she hissed. “What the hell did you think would scare me?”
When she put it like that, it made him sound ridiculous, so he countered defiantly, “You could have just told me you wanted to –”
She got to her feet and stared at him.
“I told you I like it when you tell me what to do. Did you really expect me to put the vibrator on the plate next to your breakfast eggs?”
Her voice had gone up, and the last part came out in a near shout at the same time as the kitchen door opened. Gibson was fighting a sudden urge to laugh out loud when he heard an amused voice.
“You can serve me that breakfast any time you like, honey.”
Lee yelped and turned toward Joke. Their eyes met and a blush crept up Lee’s cheeks, but then Joke started grinning.
“Sounds like you’re not keeping up with your woman, Gib. Need some help?”
Gibson knew it was wrong, but he started laughing. Part of it was relief that Lee wasn’t trying to stage a break-up. Part of it was anticipation of the thing’s they’d do that evening. Most of it was because Lee had to steady herself with a hand on the table and was opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, not getting a sound out. Fucking cute, but also hilarious.
“Don’t need help, Joke,” he said. “But she’s demanding so if that situation changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Appreciate it,” Joke said.
“Hello,” Lee snapped. “I’m standing right here.”
She’d apparently found her voice again.
“We know darlin’” Joke said calmly, and Gibson chuckled quietly.
Before she could reply to that, her phone rang, and she walked into the living room with a frustrated growl.
“Lucky for you it was me walking into your kitchen.”
“Wasn’t expecting anyone to walk in on us.”
“Guess they took a wrong turn then,” Joke murmured and watched Lee frown at her phone.
“Who?”
“Someone was driving up to the house ahead of me. Big, beige family van. Turned around and went away without even stopping.”
“Tourists,” Gibson grunted. “It happens.”
“Yeah? Guess they would have found Wilhelmine a little friendlier than expected if they’d stopped to ask for directions.”
The men grinned at each other, but then Gibson heard Lee, and shot to his feet.
“Hello, Bob. Sorry, I missed your call.”
***
Charlene
I couldn’t believe my goddamned ex-husband was calling me. The fact that my last words to him had been, “Have a great life, Bob,” should have been an indication that I had no desire to speak to him again, but there he was, trying to exchange pleasantries as if nothing had happened.
“Why are you calling?” I asked when he’d asked about the weather, told me they’d had a mild spring, asked about the cabin I was staying in and shared how Marianne had moved to a bigger house.
“We’re remodeling the house,” he said. “Janie-Mae wants to put her own mark on it, and the colors you picked do not work with her vision.”
I looked up at the ceiling and wondered why this had anything to do with me.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I’m cleaning out the attic,” he shared, and that was a surprise.
I’d asked him more than once to do just that, and he’d always said he would. Since I didn’t think my years of nagging had belatedly kicked his ass into gear, perhaps Ms. Skanky was better at handling him after all?
“Okay,” I repeated.
“There are three boxes from your grandmother’s house, and I’m unsure what to do with them.”
“Oh,” I said, and for the first time during the call, emotion came into my voice. “Thank you, Bob. That was nice of you, and I really want to keep them.”
There was only some old tablecloths, books and china in them, and none of it was valuable to anyone but me, but I’d loved my grandmother, so for him to remind me about the boxes was kind. Eight years had passed since I hauled them up there and put them in a corner, and when I packed my things and left, I’d totally forgotten about them.
“Will you pick them up?”
“Just send them to me, Bob. I’ll give you the address –”
To my surprise he refused. He wouldn’t make an effort to wrap them up, couldn’t call someone to pick them up, couldn’t be at home for the pick-up even if I organized it. Couldn’t be bothered.
“Bob, please. It’s not that big a deal,” I said. “Take them downstairs and put them on the porch, and I’ll have someone pick them up.”
“They’re yours,” he said calmly in that voice I knew meant I could argue until the end of time and I’d get absolutely nowhere.
“Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll pick them up.”
Gibson moved behind me suddenly, and I twisted around to look at him. He looked unhappy, but not in an angry badassy I’m gonna kill your ex kind of way. It was more an annoyed what the fuck is he calling about way, and when I rolled my eyes, the lines around his crinkled in a soft smile.
“Saturday afternoon,” Bob said. “I’ll be at home then.”
“Okay,” I agreed, not caring about the day and Saturday would be as good as any.
“Saturday,” he repeated.
“Okay, sure, I’ll be there,” I said.
There was a brief silence, and then he muttered, “See you then.”
“See y-”
I stared at my phone. He’d hung up on me without saying goodbye.
***
We drove through the suburb I’d lived in for almost twenty years, and when I spotted my former home, I turned toward Gibson, suddenly even happier than before that he was with me.
The reason he was
with me was because less than five seconds after I got hung up on by my ex-husband, he’d informed me we’d be in his truck and not my sorry-ass gray piece of shit.
I immediately made my displeasure clear, regarding the status of my car, “It works very well, thank you very much,” the fact that he’d clearly listened in on my conversation, “Whatever the hell happened to privacy?” and ending with the fact that he was so not coming with me, “I’m going to suburbia, Gibson. They don’t do badass in suburbia.”
He promptly got in my face to retort, “Your car is buttass ugly, you’re on the phone with your ex two steps away from me then I’ll listen, and I’ve lived in suburbia.”
I stared at him.
“I’m going with you,” he repeated.
“You lived in suburbia?”
“Twice. I’m coming with you.”
“Twice?”
“Married twice, babe, so yeah. Twice.”
I knew he’d been married, we’d talked about it briefly, but he hadn’t seemed keen on sharing any details, and since I didn’t particularly want to talk about Bob, I’d left it like that.
“Is buttass even a word?” I asked sourly.
“Lee.”
Joke, whom we both had forgotten, suddenly started laughing.
“What?” I snapped.
“Just agree, Lee,” he said. “If you don’t, he’ll still trail you down the mountain and follow you to wherever the fuck you’re going.” There was humor in his eyes when he put a big hand on my shoulder and squeezed a little. “Plus, baby – you want him to come.”
I closed my mouth and pressed my lips together. I didn’t like that he called me on it, but he was right.
“But it’s so petty of me,” I whispered.
“What’s petty?” Gibson murmured behind me.
He put his arms around my waist and pulled me toward his chest. I felt like a fool, so I didn’t look up at him and watched his backyard instead.
“Lee?”
I recognized the tone of his voice, and knew he wouldn’t give in until I’d explained, so I did.
“It’s so unbelievably petty to like the idea of walking in there with you looking like you do, Gibson. Knowing that he’s gonna take one look at you and know that I traded up in a way he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.”
The chest behind me started shaking, but I focused on Joke’s eyes which had gone unbelievably soft.
“Lee,” he said. “If his new woman looks anything like the ones you were skiing with, he’s gonna take one look at you and know that not only did you trade up. He traded down. Hugely.”
“Joke,” I whispered.
“Take Gib with you. Let him scowl and do his usual badassery. Get your things and get out of there, feeling good about who you are now, and how you aren’t the one he was married to anymore.”
Gibson’s arms tightened, and some kind of message passed between them, but then he relaxed again.
“I’m coming with you,” he murmured.
“Okay,” I replied, and that was that.
So, we were in his truck, had had motel room sex that very morning, and I pointed at the house in stunned silence. There were cars in the driveway and lining the street.
“The fuckers,” Gibson muttered.
“He’s having a party?” I asked no one in particular. Then I growled, “He’s having a goddamned –”
I stopped speaking, Gibson parked the car and turned to me.
“What?”
“It’s his birthday,” I said. “I didn’t even remember, but it is. He’s fifty-three, today.”
“What an assclown he is, Lee.”
“What?”
“He orchestrated this whole stupidity to rub it all in. His new woman, and how she’s replaced you, and how they live the life you left behind.”
He grinned suddenly, and I stared at him.
“You think this is funny?”
“Hilarious,” he said immediately.
“Why?”
“Don’t you get it? He thinks about you the way you were with him, so he expects you to walk in there wearing that beige tent you told me about, feeling sorry for yourself. But here you are, looking like you do.”
He got out of the car, so I did too, and I did it looking down at my tight, faded jeans, equally tight top in the awesome color of teal with a cool print in black and silver announcing to the world that I was, “Beyond fabulous.” I wore flip-flops and had been vain enough to make an extra effort with my makeup before, and after, the motel room sex.
That’s when I grinned too.
“Can’t wait to get this show on the road,” Gib murmured and took my hand.
I started laughing and did it looking up at him, so when someone called out my name I jolted in surprise.
“Charlene, is that you?”
“Bethie!” I returned the greeting.
Beth was Bob’s cousin and the only one in the whole family I’d actually liked. She was clever but also sweet, and I’d wondered more than once how the heck she could have stayed that way in a family like hers. Beth was married to Will, who I also liked, and he was standing next to her, staring at me at first but then grinning widely.
“What are you doing here?” Beth asked.
“Bob asked me to stop by today to pick up some boxes from the attic. He must have forgotten that he would have company,” I said. “Gib, this is Beth, Bob’s cousin, and her husband Will.”
“You’re Gibson Ward,” Will said before I could share this fact.
“Yeah,” Gibson said and raised his brows
“William Johnson, Chicago PD,” Will said as explanation, and I got it.
Of course, they’d know each other or about each other.
“You work together?” Beth asked.
“No, honey. Ward isn’t in Chicago anymore, but I know who he is. Everyone does.”
“Hello, Beth,” Gibson said. “I’m Gibson, and yeah, I got lucky on a few cases back when I worked in Chicago.”
“Lucky,” Will snorted. “Do you still fight?” He turned to me and shared, “He trained with some of the guys, and there were always people watching when they did. Amazing. Fucking… sorry, really amazing.” He turned to Gibson again, looking ridiculously excited. “So, do you?”
“It happens,” Gib said. “Babe, let’s go inside. Get your shit, yeah?”
One glance on his face told me he was in no way eager to relive his time with the Chicago PD. Since I knew how it had ended, I understood his lack of enthusiasm, and started pulling him along toward the house, smiling at Beth.
“What are you doing here?”
The question was valid because Beth didn’t come to the family functions very often. They’d always had good excuses, but I’d wondered more than once if they were entirely true. Or outright lies.
Beth was staring at Gib, and by the way she did it, I knew she’d never seen anyone like him before. Will was a good-looking guy, and he was a good man, but compared to Gibson he looked like a cuddly teddy-bear. Since I hadn’t seen anyone like Gib either before I met him and his friends, I just grinned and nudged her gently.
“Oh,” she said, blushing a little. “Haven’t been here in a while, so when the invite came from Bob and –”
She cut herself off, glanced at me and made a small face.
“Jeanie-Mae,” I said. “Bob and I are divorced. She lives with him. It’s okay to say her name.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, looked around, and whispered, “Everyone hates her. I know, I shouldn’t tell you, but they do. So, we’re also here because I’m curious.” Her smile widened, and she added, “And woo-boy, am I glad we’re here.”
By then we’d reached the door, and I stopped listening to her. This was the front door I’d locked each day when I left for work. It looked the same, and I almost opened it myself when I realized I should ring the bell. I’d never done that.
“Perhaps we should h
ave brought a birthday present,” Gibson murmured, leaned past me and pressed the button firmly. “A bouquet of daisies maybe? Or peonies?”
I stared at him and forgot about how ringing the doorbell to my old home had felt.
“Just sayin’, Lee,” he said calmly, but I saw humor in his eyes so when the door opened, I was grinning up at Gibson.
“Charlene?”
Chapter Eleven
Charlene
Bob looked like Bob. Sweet, average-looking, sports jacket wearing, balding, and boring to the bone Bob.
Gibson looked like Gibson. Badass, tight black tee-wearing, muscles on display, harsh look on his face, smoking hot Gibson.
The difference between the men was not lost on Beth, and she started coughing so violently that I turned to her and saw she was laughing helplessly.
“Sorry,” she murmured and pressed her face into Will’s side, and he looked down at her, fighting a grin of his own.
“Who are you?” Bob asked.
“Oh,” I said, turning my attention to my ex-husband. “Hello, Bob. This is Gibson.”
“Charlene?” he asked again.
“Yes?” I said, but it came out a little like a question too because it was who I was, and we’d been together for a long time, so he’d know that.
Had he lost his mind? Perhaps he’d had a mini-stroke?
“Backfired,” Gibson muttered.
“What?”
“I guess your plan seems less fun now,” Gibson said, not putting this as a question. “Let’s get this done, we have places to be. Get her boxes, and we’ll leave.”
“They’re upstairs,” Bob said looking from Gibson to me and back again.
He hadn’t even hauled them down the stairs? He’d expected me to run up and down to get them while everyone watched? What a jerk.
“Either you get them, or we walk through your gathering to get them. I’m good with either. Your call.”
“I’ll get them,” Bob said immediately.
“You do that,” Gibson said and took a step back. “Beth, Will, nice to meet you. We must do it again sometime.”
