Eligible Ex-husband

by Johnston , Marie

  “Before what?”

  “The divorce.” She looks me square in the eye and the weight of my answer lands on my shoulders.

  The answer isn’t as hard as she must assume. “You were miserable. I’ll do anything to make you happy, even end our marriage.”

  Shock flickers in her eyes and she huffs out a laugh. “I thought you couldn’t be bothered by the matter and signed the papers so you could get back to work.”

  “With you gone, I have nothing but work.”

  “You had nothing but work before I was gone.”

  I’m starting to see where she’s coming from. A weekend like last weekend, I would’ve flown out and she would’ve been alone. Natalie was a powerhouse at the job. But we’d become more co-workers who had sex and less husband and wife. I didn’t hire Helena until Natalie backed out of the job entirely. And I had to hire Charlie then too.

  “I want to be better,” I confess. Just like I tried to be a better son and a brother to be proud of, I want to be the husband of her dreams and a father who can provide his kids with the world. “Can you give me a chance?”

  I’ll get on my damn knees and beg. I want my family back.

  She rests her head in her hand and rocks in the chair. “What would we tell the girls? My parents? What if it doesn’t work out?”

  There’s no easy answer and I don’t rush mine. It’ll work. There’s no other option. “We’ll start slow, like we have been.”

  She frowns. “What happened earlier was not slow.”

  I bite back a comment about my quick performance. Now’s not the time for levity. Besides, I was always as fast or as slow as she needed, including today. “Since that first kiss in your office, we’ve been building to this point.” It was earlier than that kiss, when I walked in on her after her shower. That was my moment of clarity, when I knew I would fight to get my wife back. I would find a way to make her happy being married to me.

  “Still, that was only three weeks ago.”

  “We can keep it between us if that makes you more comfortable.”

  She dips her head. “No kissing in front of the girls. No comments about getting back together.”

  My hopes soar. She’s willing to try it. I was afraid I missed my chance, but she’s giving me one. “When… how…” I spread my hands. “So we can’t actually go on dates and stuff.”

  She looks around and her gaze sticks on the stairs leading to the guest bedroom. “We should keep things the way they are.” My hopes crash. The last thing I want to do is go back to my empty, boring condo. “But on the nights you get them, you can stay here. In the guest room.”

  I know what she’s doing. She’s keeping distance between us, giving herself an out. If I can’t prove I’ve changed, it’s an easy change back to the way things were and no one else knows we tried and failed.

  “Okay.” I rise and hold out my hand.

  She eyes it like I’m holding a poisoned apple, but she slips her hand in mine and stands.

  I tug her close. “Technically, that means I should go home until Wednesday night. But the girls are in bed and they’re not even talking to each other. Take me to your room, Natalie. I need to reconnect.”

  Her breath hitches and her gaze flicks from the stairs to across the house toward her bedroom. Her nod is slight but perceptible.

  My body ignites and all the fantasies from the last eight-plus months of abstinence vie for attention. I plan to live them all out, as long as she’s willing.

  We enter her bedroom and she shuts the door and locks it.

  Yes.

  Chapter 13

  Simon

  My entire body clenches. This isn’t a quickie in the laundry room. It’s a chance for me to make love to my wife, to show her how she’s the center of my world and that everything I do is for her and our kids.

  I could strip her down, lay her out, and have my way with her, but— No, that’s what I’m going to do. Only I’m not going to rush it. Every time she wants to hide in that pretty head of hers, I’m going to make her want to be present—with me.

  We could get interrupted. The girls could call out, one could be sick again, there could be a number of things that happen to stop us, so I’ll seize each second.

  She stops at the edge of the bed and trails her fingers over the rumpled bedding.

  I go for a little levity, only because I sense that if I come on too strong, she’s going to add to that wall she’s built between me and her. “Still don’t make the bed in the mornings, I see?”

  She looks at me over her shoulder with a faint smile. “It’ll just get messy again.”

  Her standard response emboldens me. Everything has changed between us, but at the same time, nothing has. We’re just two kids who met in college and decided to do this thing called life together. Our path took a detour, but we can get back on it.

  I position myself behind her and brush my hands over her shoulders, down her arms, until I can thread my fingers with hers. Burying my nose in her hair, I inhale the familiar scent. I never paid attention to what shampoo she bought, the same stuff I used to use. I’m dependent on whatever Charlie orders for delivery and that explains why I start the day with an emptiness. I have nothing of her in my condo, not even her lingering scent. Only memories.

  “Simon…” There’s a hitch in her voice. She’s retreating into her head.

  “Natalie. Stay with me. Stay right here with me, in this moment. I don’t have a right to ask, but I’m begging you now.”

  “You’re not down on your knees.” She ends her joke with a strangled gasp. I know her well enough to guess that she didn’t catch the innuendo before she said it.

  A sly smile lifts my lips and I ease to my knees.

  She stiffens and sidles to the side, releasing my hands. “Oh. No, um… I haven’t cleaned up since… I mean.”

  I don’t fucking care, but it bothers her and I’ll take care of it. Rising, I grab a hand and draw her along with me to the bathroom. “If you insist on being clean, then allow me to help.”

  I flip on the bathroom light because I don’t want to miss an inch of her creamy, freckled skin.

  “Do we need the light?” She avoids looking at herself in the mirror while I flip the shower on. Six heads send water cascading in all directions.

  “Strip down, Natalie.” I never give her a direct order and she blinks at me. But I don’t miss the desire clouding her bright eyes.

  She rolls her shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor. Next is her shorts. She hesitates at her bra, but I arch a brow. Her scowl is only partly playful as she unhooks it.

  Yes.

  I’ve missed those breasts. Unlike that time I walked in on her, I’m going to get to touch them. She wiggles out of her underwear, those delicious mounds swaying.

  Finally, she’s naked and I’m allowed to look my fill.

  Her gaze lifts behind me to the shower. “I’ll do my business in the shower while you undress.”

  Heat rolls out of the shower enclosure. It’s ready for her. I don’t care to push her too far past her comfort zone. And as much as I like shower sex, I want to be with Natalie in a bed. My bed.

  I step aside. She has to pass me to get into the shower. I stop her before she enters by grazing her chin with the backs of my fingers. “I’ll have a towel waiting for you.” Don’t take too long.

  She nods, a soft smile gracing her pink lips. While she cleans up, I get our towels ready and undress. I pick up our dirty clothes so there’s one less thing to distract her.

  “Can I come in?” I call quietly.

  She appears at the edge of the ceramic tile wall that blocks the shower from the rest of the bathroom. “Yes, I’m done.”

  My body gets the fastest wash of its life while she towels off. She’s finished when I step out. The fluffy blue topaz towel’s wrapped around her and she’s bent over a drawer, selecting a comb.

  “Here. Let me.” I dry off in record time but don’t bother slinging the towel aroun
d my waist. My erection would prevent it from staying.

  I take the comb from her hand and stand behind her so we’re both looking into the mirror. Her uncertainty is scrawled across her face. Instead of letting it deter me, I use it to strengthen my resolve. This is going to be a journey for both of us.

  Gently, I comb through her damp curls. “Want a braid?”

  “Just a basic one so the sheets don’t get soaked.”

  It doesn’t take me long, but as she relaxes into my touch, I prolong the task. She always liked when I took care of her hair. It requires more time, sometimes more than she has.

  When was the last time I did this for her? For the girls?

  She catches my frown. “Is everything okay?”

  “Just trying to remember the last time I did this.”

  “It’s been a while,” she says quietly. Our gazes connect in the mirror.

  “I feel like I’ve been thinking that about a lot of stuff.”

  She doesn’t comment and it’s probably best. There’s nothing she can say that won’t drive the point home more. Just because I lived here didn’t mean I was around.

  I divide her hair into three sections and braid it. She produces a tie.

  All done.

  Our gazes meet in the glass again. It’d be so easy to reach around and unlatch the flap of fabric holding her towel in place. But I don’t.

  “Drop the towel, Natalie.”

  * * *

  Natalie

  If we do this, there’s no going back. I can’t write it off as a frantic, impulsive coupling against the washing machine. I can’t use the overtired, overwrought and overemotional excuse. I’m all of those things, but he’s giving me plenty of time to back out.

  That’s the last thing I want to do.

  I unhook the towel and let it fall to our feet. There’s no more fabric between us. His hot erection brands my back, but moves away when he leans over to press tiny kisses along my shoulder up to my neck.

  A shiver traces down my body. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation and not having to rush.

  He reaches around me and cups my breasts. His warm, strong grip cradling me saps the rest of my inhibitions despite how this will complicate things.

  Things are officially complicated, but we’ve decided to go through it together.

  Together. Like we are now.

  I flutter my eyes open and roll my head to the side, making room for him to nibble his way up my neck.

  A blush graces my skin. From my cheeks down my torso. I’m usually cold after a shower, constantly moving to keep warm. But not tonight. He’s a furnace at my back that won’t let one goose bump through unless he’s the cause of it.

  Seeing him through the mirror isn’t enough. “Take me to the bed.”

  He looks up, his lips still pressed against my skin. I don’t know what he’s searching for. To see if I’m copping out? Too self-conscious?

  It’s neither. I want to hold him like I’ve been dreaming of doing for months. I want to not go to bed alone for once.

  Sensing my resolution, he leads me to bed. I sit and scoot back, drawing him over me. His weight is better than any blanket. I widen my legs until he fits in the cradle of my thighs, but he doesn’t do more than kiss me. Slow, languid, exploring. Our tongues caress against each other. Our hands roam of their own free will. I stroke mine up and down his back, around his sides, then up and across his shoulders. Familiar planes of muscle ripple under my hands.

  He shifts to nibble his way down. Down my neck, over my chest, across my belly, only to pause and look up. “I’ve been dreaming about this every damn night. It’s kept me awake for hours,” he says hoarsely.

  I haven’t been the only one. I wondered. I hoped. To hear it confirmed makes me certain that moving forward is the right thing to do. Because at the end of our marriage, he didn’t act like a man who’d lose sleep over losing me.

  “Simon, I didn’t think…” He drops a kiss right at my bikini line. I suck in a breath and arch my back.

  “Didn’t think what?” His warm breath wafts over my fevered skin.

  I didn’t think he loved me anymore. “I thought you were over me before I was over you,” is all I can say.

  “I’d never get over you.” Another kiss, lower this time. “Not in a thousand years.” He flicks his tongue across my clit, a shot of pleasure that jacks my hips up. “When you kissed me in the office, I knew we still had a chance.”

  He was the only one then. But now? I think we have a chance too.

  Just like our kiss after we landed on the bed, Simon takes his time. He’s an expert when it comes to my body and he proves that he hasn’t forgotten a thing.

  Exquisite pleasure builds, a rolling thunderstorm before the torrent is released. I twist the sheets until one edge jerks free of the mattress and lightning explodes across my vision.

  “Simon!” I manage to temper my volume at the last second to keep from waking the kids. Ecstasy cascades over me as Simon carries me over the edge and far past it.

  He doesn’t surge up right away after I’m done. His lips feather across one thigh, then the other, before he leisurely makes his way back up my body.

  I widen my legs, ready to have him inside. But he pauses over me, his weight held off me.

  “Remember the time in my dorm?”

  We had sex a lot in the dorms, but I know exactly which time he’s talking about. We’d just started sleeping together and went at it as often as possible. He was nothing like my clunky high school boyfriend. Simon studied my body as thoroughly as he prepared for exams—long hours for as many days as possible.

  One time, we fell asleep, spooned together in a little twin bed. When we woke, he rolled me on my side, with my top leg higher, and we had sex. That position hit all the right spots at the right times in a way that hadn’t happened before. I went wild bucking against him and we broke the box spring. I used my birthday money to help replace it.

  After that, our cost-conscious selves were cautious about using the position.

  “We know this bed can take it,” I reply.

  He puts me in the same position and pushes in. Our groans mingle. There’s nothing like being filled by my husband.

  This isn’t like the rest of the night has been. He doesn’t take his time. Thrust after thrust, he stokes my pleasure like only he knows how, like only he’ll ever know how, until I crest again and press my face into the mattress to muffle my cries.

  He jerks his hips and grinds out my name as he comes. The only downside to this position is that I can’t hold him while he climaxes. But once he’s done, he withdraws and collapses next to me, curling me into him.

  “The bed’s a mess,” he mumbles.

  I giggle. “Good thing we took our showers first.”

  “Solid planning, Mrs. Gainesworth.”

  My smile wavers. I thought of him as my husband, but the ex part is still there. Yet, I don’t want to rain melancholy on this moment. “Good thing you’re here, Mr. Gainesworth.”

  I wiggle away from him and dip into the bathroom and clean up. By the time I’m done the bed is made. He has a towel slung around his hips and an apologetic smile.

  He scratches the back of his neck. “I, uh, don’t want to go, but…”

  “The girls.” Finding him in bed with me would make them ask harder questions.

  He nods and drifts closer. Tipping my chin up, he gives me a sweet goodnight kiss. “Sleep tight, Natalie.”

  “Goodnight, Simon.”

  He leaves the door open when he goes. We never wanted to be closed off from the girls with their rooms across the house. Tonight, I don’t want to be shut off from Simon.

  Soon. If things keep going this well, he’ll be going to bed with me every night again—and if he’s really changing his ways, it’ll stay that way.

  Chapter 14

  Natalie

  The agreed-upon arrangement regarding Simon staying at the house lasted one whole week before Wednesday nights and eve
ry other weekend turned into him staying at the house every night.

  I can’t complain.

  He’s usually home by the time I have to tuck the girls in, and he’s kept his Wednesday workload from encroaching on his normally scheduled night with the girls and I’ve been able to keep my personal training appointments.

  Once the girls are tucked in, I get almost no work done. Simon and I sneak everywhere in the house where we can close and lock a door. The sex is off the charts. I wake up sore in the mornings from whatever position he bent me over in the night before.

  I puff my hair out of my face.

  It’s Friday and the Fourth of July is on Monday. My parents are messaging me about our plans and whether we want to go over there for the day.

  I haven’t told them about Simon yet. The girls talk about him, but haven’t mentioned that their dad’s staying with us full-time. I think Mom and Dad suspect something’s changed in our post-divorce schedule.

  Simon’s not home from work yet and I just kicked the girls outside. I slip onto the deck and relax in a lounge chair and contemplate my phone.

  With a resigned sigh, I call Dad.

  Dad answers with a “I don’t want to be a pest, but the Burkhardts invited us over and your mom and I don’t really want to go, but she feels like crap lying so we’re hoping you can throw us a preserver and save us from a night of listening to Benji talk about his lake cabin and how awesome it is and then try to sell it to me all night.”

  The Burkhardts have been my parents’ neighbors for five years. They call themselves snowbirds, but they never go south during the winter, nor do they visit their lake cabin in the summer. However, they have timeshares in both places and will block you in a corner to tell you about it.

  “Tell Mom her conscience can be clean. You guys can even come over here so you don’t feel like you have to invite them over when they peer over the fence.”