Just This Night

by Mari Madison

  “No way!” Ashley cried, looking scared for a moment that I was actually being serious. “I want to play in the snow!” She bounced in her booster seat so hard that I was half convinced she would break through the seatbelt if forced to sit still a moment longer.

  “Well okay then,” I announced. “Let’s do it.”

  I put the car in park, then popped out of the driver’s seat, walking around to open Ashley’s door. Once freed from her booster seat, she bounded from the car, running out onto the field before I could even close the door.

  “Hey, ice queen, slow down!” I protested. “Wait for your loyal subjects.”

  “I’m not an ice queen!” Ashley called back, slowing down—just barely. “I’m a snowy girl!”

  “I don’t even know what that is,” I snorted, turning to Beth.

  She laughed. “A girl whose daddy has just made her very, very happy.”

  I had to admit, I was feeling pretty damn happy myself as I walked around the back of the SUV, grabbing the sled and handing it to my daughter. Sadie had already arrived with her two kids and Ashley ran to join them. They all squealed excitedly when they saw the sled and my sister waved to me as she accompanied the three of them to the top of the hill to try it out.

  I returned her wave, then reached back into the car and pulled out an old space blanket I’d packed, along with a little picnic lunch of sandwiches and fruit. Beth took the basket and together we headed out onto the snow-covered field, finding the perfect spot and laying down the silver blanket. It was a little cold to sit down on, but not unbearable. And in truth, I was already feeling pretty warm inside anyway.

  I opened up the picnic basket and handed her a sandwich. “Hope you like PB&J,” I said with a laugh. “We’re all class all the time here at the MacDonald household.”

  She grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you guys.” She took a big bite and moaned in pleasure. “Delicious,” she pronounced, her mouth still full. I agreed—and not just about the sandwich, either. She’d gotten a small splotch of jelly stuck to the corner of her lips and it was all I could do not to lean in and lick it off.

  Instead, I found my own sandwich, taking a large bite. It was pretty good, I had to admit. Reaching back into the basket, I found a thermos of tomato soup and poured her a cup. “Your second course, m’lady,” I pronounced, handing it to her.

  “Why thank you, fine sir,” she said with a mock bow. She put the cup to her lips and breathed in deeply. “Mmm, smells good.”

  “The best Campbell’s has to offer,” I bragged. “Does this guy know how to wow a lady on a first date or what?”

  Her eyes swung to my face. “Is this is a first date?” she asked quietly.

  I turned away, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I guess it is,” I said, after a pause. “I mean, you’ve come over my house. And we met at the club. But we’ve never actually gone anywhere together before. At least not in a nonwork capacity.”

  She nodded, seeming to consider this. Then she smiled. “Well, it’s the perfect place for a first date, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll go with that. Though I’m not sure most women would agree with you.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m not ‘most women.’”

  “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

  Now it was her turn to blush. “Oh, you like me, huh?”

  “Damn woman.” I shook my head. “I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I met you at the bar. The way you rattled off tequila brands . . .”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, that seems so long ago now. Like another lifetime.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I said suddenly, surprising even myself.

  She turned to look at me. “Of course.”

  “What Stephanie said about that night. About you being at the club trying to get back at your ex-boyfriend . . .”

  She groaned. “I still can’t believe she told you all that. So embarrassing.”

  “But . . . was it true?”

  “Yes,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “Well, sort of. I was in a pretty bad place that night. And the whole thing was really out of character. Not that I regret any of it,” she added, with a twinkle in her eyes. “But yeah. It wasn’t my finest hour.”

  “So your boyfriend had just broken up with you?”

  “My fiancé, actually. And worse—he’d just gotten married.”

  “To another woman?”

  “To my sister.”

  I stared at her. “Wait, what? How . . . ?”

  “How indeed.” She snorted. Then I listened as she explained the whole sordid tale.

  “God,” I muttered when she was finished. “That’s ridiculous. Hell, I think I’d be ready to screw a stranger, too, at that point.”

  “Honestly, the worst part was my family’s reaction,” she added. “My mom basically told me to my face that it was my fault. That by chasing after some crazy career halfway across the country, I was basically telling him he was second best. And that I deserved to have him look elsewhere.”

  I scowled, offended on her behalf. “That’s ridiculous. What did he want? For you to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he just wanted me to put him first.” She shrugged. “In any case, I’m over it. He wasn’t right for me, I see that now. We’d been together so long, we’d been like a bad habit. And now that I see what it could be instead . . .”

  She gave me a look that made my heart swell. I reached out, taking her hands in my own, stroking her mittens. “Well, I think he’s crazy,” I declared. “And I’m really glad you didn’t let anyone talk you out of going after your dreams. You have what it takes to be an amazing reporter. And I love the fact that you never give up—even when things get hard. In fact, that might be my favorite thing about you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “That means a lot, actually.” She paused, then added, “What about you?”

  “Eh, I give up on things all the time.”

  She laughed. “I mean, about the club, silly. Why were you there that night? Now that I know you better, it doesn’t seem much like your scene.”

  “It’s about as opposite my scene as you can get,” I declared. “But I guess I, too, was in a bad state that night.”

  “Because of your ex-wife?” She paused then added, “What happened between the two of you anyway? If you feel comfortable talking about it, that is.”

  I drew in a breath. Did I feel comfortable? I mean, I never talked about this. Not to anyone—not even Sadie. Yet, somehow, I kind of wanted to now. I wanted Beth to understand where I’d come from. Why I’d acted like I had. Why I was, even now, so damned scared of opening myself up. Of connecting with another person. Especially another coworker.

  Ah, what the hell.

  “When I first met Victoria she was a writer at a small TV station in Maine,” I started, my heart beating a little faster as I began the tale. “I fell for her right away. She was so excited about everything—and so driven. She was like a force of nature and I’d never met anyone like her. I helped her put together her reporter résumé tape and put in a good word for her at my station in Boston.” I raked a hand through my hair. “But an entry-level job at a big station wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more. And she didn’t want to wait for a promotion the old-fashioned way.”

  “I see,” Beth said, obviously guessing where this story was going. And why wouldn’t she? Looking back on it now, it was all such a cliché.

  “Anyway, there was this news director at our Boston station. A real bigwig named Mike who had been there for years. He was very good at his job—and also very married. But that didn’t stop Victoria from seducing him. Soon, she was getting all the plum assignments and moving up the ranks.” I shook my head. “And me, being the idiot that I was, thought she was just good at her job.”

  “Ugh.” Beth gave me a pitying look. “I’m so sorry. You must have been devastated when you found out.”

  “I didn’t just fi
nd out. I caught them in the act,” I told her, fidgeting with my cup. “I’d come in to the station late to edit a piece and found them going at it on his desk.” I grimaced, my mind flashing back to the scene. Their bodies, naked and writhing. “I reacted like any husband would, I guess. I beat the shit out of him. My very own boss.” I sighed. “I was fired, of course, and the guy told me I’d never work in Boston again.”

  “That’s ridiculous! Couldn’t you have sued for wrongful dismissal or something?”

  I shrugged. “I could have, I guess. But I wasn’t exactly in a rational state of mind at that point. Instead I did something much more idiotic. I posted the whole thing on social media—photos and everything. Called the guy out for sleeping with a married woman who was not his wife. At the time I was so blinded by my thirst for revenge I didn’t think the consequences through.”

  “What happened?”

  “The whole thing went viral. The news director got fired. His wife divorced him. And Victoria—well, she became a pariah around town. Not that she was an innocent party, mind you. But some of the stuff people said. . . .” I shook my head. “Let’s just say it got really ugly. And no other station wanted to touch her with a ten-foot pole.”

  “I can imagine. That’s why I didn’t want the whole Stephanie thing to get out. And that’s minor compared to something like this.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “In any case, she called in a few favors, pulled a few strings and suddenly she was offered an international correspondent job overseas. I guess she figured it was her only chance to start over and redeem herself. Only problem? It meant leaving me and Ashley behind. But hey,” I added bitterly, “in her mind I was the asshole who put her in this position to begin with. And Ashley, well, she was just collateral damage.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mac.”

  “Me, too. And, of course, Ash didn’t understand. She still doesn’t. And how could she? One night her mommy is there, putting her to bed. The next she’s gone—presumably forever. Without even a ‘see yah later, kiddo.’”

  “She didn’t even try to explain it to her?”

  “I don’t think she cared enough to try.” I frowned. “Anyway, as you can imagine, I wasn’t in a great state after all that and I’d pretty much sworn off women forever. In fact, when I went to that club, the last thing I planned on was hooking up. But then I met you. And suddenly I found myself going against everything I promised myself. Everything I promised my little girl.” I gave Beth a tortured look. “And then the next morning I woke up in your bed. And I realized how much I didn’t want to leave . . .”

  “Oh, Mac.”

  Beth grabbed me and kissed me, her cold lips pressing against mine, taking away the need to continue. Because I didn’t need to continue, I suddenly realized. Because she already knew. She already understood. And yet, she chose to kiss me anyway. To take me—the underserving, weak-willed bastard—for who I was. And who she believed I could be.

  I kissed her back. And in an instant there was no more one-night stand and guilt and regret. No more tortured past and bad decisions. Only her soft mouth on mine. Her tongue tangling with my own. As if trying to convey something very important that couldn’t be explained with mere words.

  I pulled her to me and I could feel her heartbeat, fast and hard, against my chest. She was nervous, but she was also excited. She was scared, but she wasn’t going to let herself pull away. Chills spun down my spine as she wrapped her arms around my back and held me tight. Secure. She tasted like spun sugar and sunshine. She tasted like home.

  Lost in the kiss, for a moment I forgot where I was. What we were supposed to be doing. All I could focus on were her lips on mine. My hands tangled in her hair. But then, suddenly, something cold and wet struck my cheek. I pulled away, startled. Confused. Then a smile spread across my face when I realized what it was that had hit me.

  “They’re having a snowball fight!” Beth exclaimed with a grin.

  “I haven’t had a good snowball fight in ages,” I declared, jumping to my feet. I grabbed a fistful of white powder, molding it into the perfect ball of snow. When I’d finished, I threw it expertly at Beth, striking her square in the chest.

  “Hey!” she protested, grabbing her own handful of the white stuff as she scrambled up from the blanket. I tried to dodge, but she was too quick and her shot rang true, smacking me in the shoulder. Laughing, I lobbed another in her direction, but this time she was able to skip nimbly aside.

  “Missed me, missed me,” she taunted.

  Now you’ve got to kiss me.

  Been there, done that, I thought with a secret smile. Though I’d be more than okay with doing it again.

  But first things first. I grabbed another handful of snow, then charged toward her, grabbing her by the jacket and smashing a snowball into her face.

  She screamed in protest. “Oh, is that how you want to play? It’s on, Mac Daddy, it’s so on!”

  Scooping up a huge amount of snow in one hand, she grabbed me by the sweatshirt and stuffed the entire thing down my chest. In an instant, I was ice cold and I screamed in protest as I tried to shake it out.

  Thankfully Ashley showed up then, my little princess in shining armor. “Ha, ha!” I cried. “Now you’ve met my secret weapon.”

  “No way, Daddy!” Ashley corrected. “I’m on Beth’s team!” She hurled a huge snowball in my direction.

  “What? My own daughter? A traitor to her dear old dad?” I placed a hand over my heart, as if mortally wounded by this devastating betrayal by my own flesh and blood. But inside, I could only smile as the two girls ganged up on me, combining forces to knock me into the snow.

  My two girls.

  We played for hours, until we were thoroughly soaked to the bone. Finally, the sun began to descend and we decided it would be best to get back before we froze to death.

  I considered dropping Beth off at her apartment, but the idea of breaking up our cozy little group made me hesitate. I wanted her to stick around a little longer. I knew my daughter would want the same. And really, was there anything truly holding me back? Ashley was thrilled to have her. I didn’t want her to leave . . .

  “Do you like chili?” I found myself asking. “It’s my singular culinary achievement and I’m thinking it’d be a great way to end the day, if you didn’t have other plans.”

  Beth grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

  Actually it sounded like heaven.

  When we arrived home, we all changed into dry clothes. Since Beth didn’t have any with her, I offered her an old button-down flannel shirt and sweatpants. But the sweatpants wouldn’t stay up and the shirt fell to her knees so she decided to just wear it as a dress instead.

  Which was fine by me.

  She and Ashley played videogames while I cooked. And soon the house was filled with squealing and laughter from both the girls. My heart felt very full as I announced dinner was ready and they both scrambled to take their seats at the dining room table. Even being married to Victoria for six years—we never had this kind of domestic bliss. We worked opposite shifts, were always passing in the night. And if we did ever eat together, it was usually very late, long after Ashley had gone to bed.

  This was like how real people did it. Real families.

  Ashley was exhausted from the action-packed day and soon was practically falling asleep at the dinner table. I carried her to bed and tucked her in with her stuffed lion—and for once she didn’t even utter a word of protest or demand a family hug.

  Once she was settled, I headed back out to find Beth, who had brought all the dishes to the sink and was currently washing them. When I approached, she gave me a shy smile. God, she looked so good in my shirt. I tried not to think about how much better she’d look without it.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, nodding at the sink.

  “You cooked dinner. It’s the least I could do.”

  “Well, then how about I make the drinks?” I pulled out the blender and a bottle of margarita mix.


  Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Don’t suppose you have any Anejo Banjo lying around . . .”

  I grinned. I was hoping she’d ask that. “Actually,” I reached up into the cabinet and pulled down the bottle I’d been saving. “Ta-da!”

  “Is that . . . ?” She did a double take. Then she laughed as she took a closer look at the label. “How is that possible? This literally doesn’t exist.”

  “It does now,” I declared. “Thanks to me getting creative with my printer.”

  “That is truly awesome,” she cried, grabbing the bottle in her still soapy hand and studying it closer. “We should totally label a bottle of some two buck chuck and send it to our bartender friend.”

  “I’m sure he would love that,” I said with a nod. “It is his favorite, of course.”

  “Indeed. He orders it all the time.”

  I smiled at her. She smiled back at me. I took her soapy hands and dried them off with a dishtowel.

  “Enough slave labor. Go sit on the couch, woman. And let me make you a drink.”

  She blushed. “If you insist.”

  “I absolutely do.”

  I released her hands, then watched her walk to the couch, unable not to focus on her long, bare legs beneath my shirt. I suddenly wondered if she was wearing underwear or if that, too, was in the dryer.

  Forcing my attention back to the blender, I made the drinks, then poured them into red Solo cups and brought them over to the coffee table, setting them down before her. She took one in her hands and held it up.

  “Cheers!”

  We clinked cups. Then I watched as she put the cup to her mouth, her full lips parting to accept the liquid offering. The same way they’d parted under my tongue just a few hours before. Groaning, I took a big slug of my margarita—a vain attempt to cool my lust-filled thoughts. Unfortunately, all it did was give me instant brain freeze.

  “Argh!” I cried, clutching my head in my hands, falling back onto the couch as icy pain stabbed me in the skull without mercy. Beth looked at me, at first, concerned, then burst out laughing as she realized the source of my sudden affliction.