When Josh arrived, we loaded his car, each item tagged carefully with the name and address of the recipient. I sent Cathy in back to make more bows, and I manned the counter while I tried to multitask and arrange some roses in a vase. By the time Michelle and Nicole arrived, I practically tackled them with relief. Michelle handed me a great big Dr. Pepper from the convenience store with lots of ice in it, and I slurped it down gratefully.
My best friends got right down to work, with Nicole barking out instructions and Michelle gathering materials and setting them up for me to fill the orders. With Cathy’s bows and Nicole filling out cards, and Cathy wrapping in tissue or ringing up a receipt, we got an assembly line going and moved a lot of orders through quickly. I felt so relieved after a harrowing day. Business was great, and it wasn’t just a one-day surge. I had orders coming in on the phone and website for the rest of the week as well. I took a quick break to add more flowers to my fresh inventory that was arriving day after tomorrow.
When I placed my order, I tacked on a few stuffed animals, scented candles and homemade soaps, and angel knickknacks because several customers had asked if we had any plans to start having gifts as well. I’d have to get the little set of shelves from my parents’ garage that used to be in my bedroom as a kid and paint them to showcase the gift items on. I wasn’t going to invest in a display case or anything yet, but it seemed like a good idea to expand into small gifts as well as flowers. I usually only kept that stuff around Valentine’s Day, but there was a demand in town for it now. Part of me couldn’t wait to tell Damon how great things were going and how I’d ordered candles and stuff. I knew he’d have ideas on what to add to inventory and I wondered if we should ask our moms what they thought, since a lot of my customers were in their age group.
“Whew, it’s six-thirty,” Nicole said. “I’m starving. Do you want me to order pizza or go get something?”
“Uh…” I said. “I hadn’t really thought about it. But I’ll totally feed my help. Order whatever you want. My treat.”
“Ooh,” Michelle piped up, “then I want lobster and champagne!”
“Diamonds, I want some diamonds. I’m ordering those, too,” Nicole teased.
“Oh, shut up. I meant you can have BBQ or pizza or whatever,” I rolled my eyes.
I heard a knock at the door and looked up to see Rachel with three bags of food and a drink carrier from the diner. I opened the door for her.
“What’s all this?” I asked. “You didn’t have to bring us dinner!”
“Oh, honey, it wasn’t me. I’m just the delivery girl. Feel free to tip big, though,” she laughed. “Looks like somebody doesn’t want you girls going hungry tonight.”
“Who sent all this?” I said.
“Your hubby, of course. Sweetest thing I ever heard, he calls up and says, ‘my wife’s working tonight, it’s the first day the shop’s been back open, and she’s having a real big day. I gotta work till ten or I’d take it by myself,’” Rachel said.
I blushed while Nicole and Michelle made obnoxious kissing noises behind me. I fished out a twenty and handed it to Rachel for her trouble and took the bags from her.
When she was gone, I flapped my hand at the girls to get them to stop acting stupid about Damon sending us food.
“It’s your favorite! Even the pie!” Michelle swooned. “He really pays attention.”
“You bring me a muffin sometimes. It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not. Because I’m not trying to get laid. You’ve always had a crush on him. So I think this is a pretty clear signal from him. It’s a total boyfriend thing to do.”
“Early boyfriend, first flush of love, just started sleeping together boyfriend thing to do,” Nicole corrected. “Super thoughtful, shows how well he knows you and also shows off a little in front of your friends. No offense to my friend the florist here, but it’s better than sending you flowers at work or something. It’s food. Food is the universal symbol of love.”
“No, flowers are,” I protested.
“You say that because you sell flowers,” Michelle said. “I’d rather have a burger. No question.”
“He probably asked Rachel what we all like, since she always takes our orders at the diner,” I said.
“Whatever, he likes you. Your husband likes you. What a concept!” Nicole insisted, laughing.
We all bickered and giggled while we ate our delicious, greasy meal. By the time we closed the place at 7:30, everything had been delivered or picked up by the customers. I’d made up the morning orders as well, and they were chilling safely in the cooler. We cleaned up, I took out the trash, and I thanked the girls.
“I owe you drinks,” I promised.
“Lots of drinks. Saturday,” Michelle said emphatically.
“We’ll have drinks on Saturday,” I promised. “I’m closing at three on Saturday so I can get everything cleaned up and in order for Monday.”
“We’ll see you Saturday, then,” Nicole said. “Unless Michelle brings you a muffin so you’ll sleep with her. Tell Damon we said thanks for supper.”
“Nah, I think she’ll thank him for all of us,” Michelle said archly.
I stuck my tongue out at her and grabbed my keys so we could all walk out together.
By the time I got home, it was nine-thirty, and I wanted a shower and to go to sleep. I also remembered that Damon got off work at ten. I could get a shower, wait up for him and, as Michelle said, thank him for all of us. I jumped in the shower and blasted myself with hot water, scrubbing all over with my coconut body wash and shaving my legs. My hair was clean and I even used the blow dryer on it for a few minutes so it wasn’t a wet, lanky mess when he got home. I put on my nice pajamas, brushed my teeth twice. And flossed. And used mouth wash. I wanted to be minty fresh when he came in the door.
I was in the kitchen trying to decide if it was still too warm out to make him hot cocoa or if I had time to stir up some brownie mix and throw a pan in the oven. I heard his truck and dashed into the living room, not unlike an eager Labrador Retriever, I thought ruefully. I was smiling, wondered if I should go get a beer out of the fridge for him or if that was too 1950s.
Damon walked through the door. He was tall and broad and handsome, every line of his face tired and discouraged looking. A day’s worth of stubble was auburn and brown along his square jaw. I stepped forward of my own volition, the words of thanks for the French toast and for dinner dying on my tongue. I went to him, put my arms around him and hugged him. His arms closed around me instantly, hugging the hell out of me.
“Oh, God, I needed this, Trix,” he said. “After the day I had.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hugging him tight. He released me and I rocked back on my feet.
He toed off his boots and sat on the couch. His dry-fit RFFD shirt clung to lines of muscle and squeezed his strong arms. I tried not to ogle, but navy blue was a hell of a color on a man with eyes like his and any color was awesome on a body like that. I cleared my throat, sat beside him but not too close. I curled my legs up under me and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch.
“Well, I got my ass handed to me by the chief today.”
“Why? You’re a hero!” I said indignantly.
“Easy, tiger,” he chuckled, “sure, it looks that way from seeing it on the news, but the film from the Overton chief’s bodycam and the orders I was given—I went against a direct order to stand back, to go for containment since we couldn’t extinguish the blaze. I went back in and searched for that guy on nothing but a hunch. No one indicated there was anybody in the building still, and if there were, it was likely they were already dead from the smoke. I took a hell of a chance, and I’m not sorry I did it, but I’m suspended for a couple days and got a scolding that’d make your ears bleed. Not even my mama can make a man feel worse than the chief can.”
“That is bullshit!” I burst out. “That man would be dead without you. If you’d listened to orders, and he died, how would you all feel? How would his
family feel knowing that nobody went in after him and he was gone? I thought your job was to put out fires and save people from them, not to kiss the Overton chief’s ass when he was being a lazy bastard!”
“Okay, I take it back. The chief has nothing on you when it comes to a blistering set down. Damn, girl,” he chuckled ruefully. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“You bet I’m on your side. I don’t care if it says in the rule book somewhere that you’re supposed to obey without question. You’re not a robot, and your instincts are good. You were right to go in that building even though it scared the hell out of me. You saved that man’s life, and you were willing to sacrifice your own on the chance that there was a person dying in there who needed your help—” I swiped tears off my face, angry ones. “Damon, anybody who says you should’ve done different is a goddamn coward more concerned with how it looks on paper than what it’s like to live with the choices we make. I’m calling the Overton chief this minute. I want an apology, and I want it now!”
He caught my wrist, “I believe you’d call him.”
He pulled me across his knees and hugged me. “You are such a spitfire when it comes to the people you’re loyal to. It’s one of my favorite things about you, Trix. But you can’t yell at the Overton chief and my boss and make them apologize. They go by the rules, and I didn’t. I knew better. I made the choice, I don’t regret it, and I’ll take the consequences. They’re not gonna fire me, they just don’t want to set an example of firefighters ignoring orders and trying to be a cowboy and getting their asses killed because they’d see me get away with it. He’s making an example of me. I don’t even think he disagrees with what I did. I understand why he’s doing it. It just aggravates me. That’s all. And here you are, ready to poke the devil himself in the eye for me. Goddamn, Trix.”
Damon leaned back, cradled me against his chest and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you,” he said. “It means everything to me that you’d defend me like that. You waited up for me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning back from him a little and looking in his eyes. He brushed a lock of hair back behind my ear, gave me the most tender smile.
“I’m glad you did. Did Rachel bring y’all some supper?”
“Yeah, she did, thank you. It was great. Above and beyond the call of duty, really,” I said bashfully, sliding off his lap to sit beside him.
“I wish I could’ve been there, but they needed me for a double shift today.”
“So the same guy who bitched you out made you work a double? He’s got some nerve,” I said.
“Can I kiss you?” he said suddenly. I looked away, and I nodded.
He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, made me look at him.
“Is that a yes?” he asked mischievously.
“Yeah,” I said, knowing I blushed bright pink.
Damon cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, softly at first, his lips nipping at mine, clinging and tugging before he worked my mouth open and slid his tongue inside. I held his wrists, anchoring him to me, licking his tongue as he worked it in my mouth, drawing curls of pleasure all over my body with just the stroke of his tongue between my lips. My body seemed to go liquid, to melt and flow, loose and canting toward him. A hum of sensation started between my legs, so that every time the tip of his tongue teased the roof of my mouth or mated with my own, a shiver of pleasure shot down to my clit.
We sat there forever, kissing back and forth, and when he reached into my hair, tugged out my ponytail holder and combed his fingers through my damp tresses, I felt like I’d been stripped bare. It felt wanton and so good, so pleasurable. I pressed my body to his, the satiny pajamas catching and clinging on his shirt, my nipples sensitive to the friction. I rose up on my knees, his hands sliding down the curve of my ass and then up under my pajama top, rough calloused hands abrading the bare, warm skin of my back. I know I moaned at his touch, skin on skin. I swung one knee over his legs and settled back on his lap. Damon pulled me against his chest roughly, hands still on my bare back. He crushed me in his arms.
“I was just going to kiss you, I swear to God,” he said raggedly. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
He released me, and I sat back, self-conscious. Straddling him. I was awkward and embarrassed. This was so bad. I nearly swallowed my own tongue as I climbed off him quickly. He dropped his head into his hands, elbows on his knees. His posture was completely shutting me out, caging himself in. I laid one palm on his back tentatively.
“You don’t need to apologize to me. You had a bad day. I sort of took advantage,” I said, uncertain.
“You don’t owe me comfort. You don’t owe me anything, Trix, I want you to know that. I’d never think you did.”
His voice was almost anguished, and it twisted something inside my chest uncomfortably. Did he think I’d slept with him last week out of gratitude? I got to my feet and shuffled off to my bedroom.
“Good night,” I said half-heartedly as I closed myself off once again.
16
Damon
Driving by her shop, I could see how busy she was. It was the first full day of her reopening, and I knew she’d have a crowd. Trixie had worked so hard to make this shop a reality, to reopen it better than ever. It was good to see her succeed at it, and to know I had a little part in it. I called the shop during my lunch break.
“This is Trixie, how can I help you?” Her voice was brisk, rushed, lots of noise in the background. I grinned to myself.
“Well, you can tell my wife I’ll take care of supper tonight. It sounds like she’s having a busy day,” I said.
“Oh, Damon! You wouldn’t believe it. People around here have been so good to me.” She sounded happy.
“I’ll see you later. I’m proud of you, Trix,” I said.
When I got off work, I picked up her favorites from the Chinese restaurant and had them waiting for her. I wanted her to know she had my full support, that I was happy for her success. That I wasn’t going to come home and whine about work and try to grope her again. So instead of sending flowers, which she’d actually have to select and arrange for herself, I was trying to say it with Chinese takeout. That I was here for her, for whatever she needed. I wouldn’t pressure her again for more than she might want to give.
Still, I opened a bottle of her favorite wine, a chardonnay that probably didn’t go with egg drop soup and shrimp fried rice and egg rolls, but I knew she’d like it anyway. I just wanted to spoil her a little. Not with any expectations, just to show her I was proud of her. That I saw how hard she worked, and I was happy that she was getting the attention she deserved with the reopening. Now if I could just manage to say that to her without tripping over my words or saying something sexually suggestive, that would be the goal.
Staying home from work had made me restless. I’d worked out and returned some library books and got new ones to read. I read half a mystery, got impatient and I showered. I had turned on the cute little robot vacuum and folded up some towels from the dryer. It had seemed like a long day, waiting for her to get home. When I finally got the Chinese food, I lit a couple candles and opened the wine. I was so excited for her to arrive that I panicked a little. Was I making it too sexy with the candles and wine? Should I turn all the lights on and maybe change out of my button-down and put on a crappy t-shirt from the Little League team? I started to freak out like I was a teenager going on my first date with a girl I really liked. Remember, you’re a firefighter, a devoted son and friend, and also her freaking husband, I told myself. So quit acting like a nervous kid!
I tried pacing but it didn’t calm me down. When she opened the door, I was on the living room floor doing pushups.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” she burst out.
“Uh, yeah I was just—doing pushups. Why?”
“Well, first of all, that’s a weird place to do pushups, but mainly I saw you down there and thought, oh my God is he having a stroke? Did he fall down?”
> “And what? Break my hip? I’m not that much older than you, Trix,” I said, rolling my eyes as I got to my feet. I felt a little foolish, but her overreaction helped a little.
“I don’t know exactly. I just don’t—I’m not used to coming in from work and finding a grown man sprawled out on the floor in front of the door like that.”
“Well you should probably get used to it. I tend to do it a lot,” I told her.
She nodded her head. “Noted. Hey, what smells so good?”
“I told you I’d take care of supper,” I said with a smile. “It’s from that Chinese place you like.”
“The one in Overton? I can’t believe you went all the way there for takeout. But you were stir crazy, weren’t you?” she asked.
“I was just fine,” I said defensively.
“Vacuum’s done, laundry’s going cause I can hear it. You worked out, went to Overton for food. What else? Oh—new books. Library, too then.”
“What are you, a crime scene detective?” I asked. “So I ran some errands and decided to be productive around the house. I’ve been slacking on the laundry and stuff. You’ve been busy, and it’s not all your job anyway. I was just making up for lost time.”
“So another three days of this and you’ll have re-roofed the entire place, right?”
“Maybe,” I said, “come eat dinner. You can give me crap about doing laundry while you eat. Tell me about your day. Since I’m a shut-in and everything.”
Trixie kicked off her shoes and set them by the door, left her purse on the table, and washed up at the sink. “This is really nice,” she said. “I know it’s hard for you to be home when you’re used to spending so much time at the station. Thanks for getting supper.”
My Fake Husband Page 9