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The Husband Diet (A Romantic Comedy)

Page 17

by Barone, Nancy


  Her eyes met mine. “Of course. I’b sorry, too. Let be bake that call?”

  I sighed, my insides turning outside in frustration as my cell phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it, didn’t want to tell anybody about Paul yet, in case it wasn’t true, in case I’d dreamed this whole thing up and he was sitting in my backyard waiting for me with a couple of margaritas. I pushed my knuckles into my eyes and answered the damn phone.

  “Hello,” I said, trying to clear my throat.

  “Hey, sunshine, what’s keeping you—are you okay?”

  Chapter 20:

  Gaining a Lover?

  I hated waking up with a headache. My whole face hurt, as well. I yawned, my mouth tasting like scotch tape.

  On the ceiling above me were the worried faces of a man in scrubs, Paul and Julian. What the hell were they doing in my bedroom? Paul could’ve been a figment of my hopeful imagination and Julian the usual guest star of my dreams. But a doctor?

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” twin voices, one deep and one effeminate, penetrated my foggy brain.

  I tried to sit up and Julian supported my shoulders, along with Paul whose arm was in a sling. Had I been dreaming?

  “You scared us for a minute, sunshine!” Paul grinned, taking my head in his good hand and kissing me.

  I looked at him, trying to make sense of his words but my mind was very foggy. “You’re not dead?” I squeaked.

  “Do I look dead, sunshine? When you didn’t arrive, I thought you’d be, well... somewhere more exciting, so I called Julian’s school,” Paul explained.

  I looked up back and forth between them. Clear as mud.

  “Paul had a car accident. But you misunderstood and went to the wrong place, thinking Paul had died.” Julian added. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I looked up at the three of them. Paul? Alive? This wasn’t making sense. “I went to the wrong morgue?”

  “Forget it; we’ll explain on the way home,” Julian whispered and I clutched his sleeve.

  “Where’s Yoda? Is she still bleeding?” At that they all laughed.

  “She’ll be a little loopy for a bit,” the doctor said. “Let’s get her up here.”

  At that, Julian bent over and lifted me into his arms and onto the stretcher. Just like that. No huffing and puffing. “No blowing big houses down?” I asked him, and he looked at me for a second and then grinned. “Come on, Little Red Riding Hood. Let’s get you checked out.”

  “Three Little Pigs,” I corrected them.

  “Gee, thanks, sunshine. We really needed a compliment after dying,” Paul chuckled.

  “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down,” I insisted, and Julian looked at Paul, who nodded. “A margarita will set her straight.”

  “No alcohol,” the doctor said. “She’s still got the dregs of shock. Just keep her warm and get her to lie down.”

  “I’m not lying down in a morgue—whether it’s Boston City or Boston County,” I sentenced. “What’s wrong with you guys?”

  The doctor checked my blood pressure. I’m not the one who’s had the accident, I wanted to tell him. “Paul…” I murmured, and he bent over me.

  “Nice to know you’d miss me, sunshine, but really! You think I’d die in a car accident and get blood all over my Armani?”

  And that’s all I remember.

  * * *

  When I woke up again I was in my own bed (I recognized the cow jammies hanging on the back of the door) and Julian, Paul and the kids were there, Maddy curled up in the crook of my arm.

  “Mommy’s awake!” she hollered into my ear.

  I jolted up as Warren checked me out and then hugged me as Maddy tugged on my hand. “Mommy!”

  “Sweetheart,” I whispered, kissing the tops of their heads as my eyes swung to Paul’s. He wasn’t dead. My darkest fears had not materialized today. The idea of losing Paul was something I couldn’t stand.

  “Oh, boy, am I glad to see you,” I breathed, and, realizing how stupid I sounded, began to sob. Not a loud sob—just a sniffly, teary thing under my breath so the kids wouldn’t be alarmed.

  “Okay, kids, you’ve seen your mum’s okay. Bedtime now,” Julian said in his deep, deep voice that was tender but commanding as well. Julian in my bedroom. For real, this time. Oh, wow. Although this wasn’t exactly the way I’d pictured it, with Paul in it as well.

  Maddy and Warren gave me one last look and a kiss before they allowed Julian to usher them out.

  I sat up and looked at Paul in the lamplight.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he quipped and I held my forehead.

  “Stop, my head is killing me.”

  “Serves you right, burying me before my days,” he said as he reached out his hand and caressed my cheek. “I meant what I said yesterday. You are my family, Erica.”

  I nodded and let him hug me as I cried my eyes out on his good shoulder. “I was a complete idiot. I was so afraid something would happen to you one day and I’d be in real trouble without you and when the hospital called I completely lost it.”

  “Well, not quite, luckily for me,” he said, patting my shoulder and helping me sit up with his good arm.

  “I thought I’d lost you, Paul...”

  “I’m here, sweetie...”

  “You know how much you mean to me, right? I can’t even think of life without you.”

  “You don’t need to, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”

  After a few quiet moments of me leaning contentedly on Paul’s good shoulder, Julian came back into the room with a tray full of sandwiches and wraps and fruit and nuts.

  “Ooh, yummy,” Paul said and grabbed one as he hopped to his feet and headed toward the door. “See you later,” he chimed.

  I panicked. “What? Where are you going?”

  “I have to see Bobby; I promised him,” he shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows at Julian. “He’ll stay here and take care of you, won’t you, Julian?”

  “Absolutely,” Julian replied, his eyes tender on me, his face turning red.

  “See ya, lovebirds,” Paul sang and closed the door on my protests.

  Lovebirds? I glanced at Julian, the most magnificent male in Creation, sitting on the edge of the bed with a tray full of food for me. What else could a woman want from life? I looked away so I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Julian. As much as I love him, Paul doesn’t have a firm grasp on reality.”

  Julian cleared his throat. “Erica… I think you and I need to have a serious chat.”

  Hoo boy. Here it was. “Thanks for being here; I don’t even know why Paul called you.”

  Julian cleared his throat. “I brought the kids home.”

  “Oh. Duh.”

  Julian smiled, his eyes studying my face. “Why didn’t you call me? You know I would’ve come running.”

  I looked up, confused. What was he saying? “I—I didn’t… there was nothing you could’ve done.”

  “I could’ve been by your side. You should never have been on your own in a moment like that—ever.”

  “I’m a big girl, Julian. Everyone can see that,” I said with a giggle when instead I wanted to pull back the covers and jump his beautiful bones, just like I had endless times in my fantasies.

  He took my hand and squeezed it. “Let me be there for you.”

  If I was thinking of a fling, this sounded like more. What did I want? “Don’t waste your time on me, Julian. I’m just a pseudo-suicidal-homicidal housewife. Stay away from me.”

  He grinned, lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. I looked into his face as my skin began to tingle. It would’ve been so easy to lock the door and let him slid
e under the covers with me. Or rather, it would’ve been easy for me. For him, not so much, because I’d never let him go again. Ever.

  I watched him, long lashes fanning his red cheeks, as his lips touched my hand. And then his eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry, Erica…”

  I nodded. “It’s okay; you don’t have to apologize for staying away.”

  He shook his beautiful head. “I’m apologizing because I don’t want to stay away. Not anymore. I think you are the most beautiful, kind and caring woman in the world.”

  I swallowed to stop my heart from jumping out of my mouth. “And I think, Julian, that you’re absolutely nuts. Go home, and leave a poor woman her inner peace.”

  Julian lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Erica, I didn’t mean to—I don’t want—” he swallowed, his cheeks hot as he gathered my hands in his, bringing them to his heart, palms flat on his chest. I could feel it pounding inside him, could almost see his shirt twitch under the force of it. He leaned over the tray, his breath shallow, his expression solemn, like I’d never seen him before, and took my face in his hands.

  I could’ve closed my eyes, but I didn’t want to miss a thing. I didn’t want to miss Julian’s beautiful, beautiful lips searching mine, didn’t want to miss the sight of his face an inch from my own, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his incredibly green eyes.

  He kissed me. Delicately. Tenderly, face to face, his eyes searching mine. No one had ever, ever kissed me like that. And then he kissed me again, only deeper. A real, real kiss.

  My head spinning, I broke away and fanned myself. “Whoa. That was, uhm…”

  At that, he silenced me with a third kiss. I could get used to this kind of treatment, I thought as I wrapped my arms around his neck like a drowning woman and kissed him back, all barriers down, and boy, let me tell you it was the sexiest, most erotic moment of my life.

  I let my hands roam over his shoulders and back, enjoying the feel of his strong lean body against mine, more than aware that I was anything but lean myself. I envisaged him kissing me more, his hands slipping under my shirt and touching my roly-poly body. And I instantly stiffened. I had lost weight, but I wasn’t at my very best physically yet and probably never would be for him. And if I ever was, it would be time to find myself a toy boy with an expiration date—not my kids’ principal whom I couldn’t stop thinking of.

  “I think you’d better go now,” I whispered before I tore his clothes off and he would have to (out of sheer British courtesy) reciprocate. “Thanks for everything. Especially for the kisses. Yum.”

  “There’s more where that came from,” he promised with a grin and a wink as he gathered my hands in his and kissed them one last time.

  When he closed the door, I sat back and let out a huge sigh. I’d have to be very careful. There was no way I was shelving my Tuscan dream for anyone, not even Superman here. I’d already done the falling in love thing and look where it’d got me. Sex? Yes please and lots of it, thank you. Love? Not happening until I touched Italian ground and an Italian family man.

  Chapter 21:

  In the Lion’s Den

  One evening when I got home from work, Ira was on the phone with his Stiletto Girl. He was in the guest room and hadn’t heard me come in, but his low, sexy voice was clear in the silence of the house.

  Ira laughed. “I know, honey, I know, I can’t wait either… I miss you, too… I miss that gorgeous body of yours and can’t wait to sleep with you in our very own bed…”

  I froze.

  “Who—Erica? She’s probably at work now. All she does is work and stuff her face. ”

  He hadn’t even noticed all the weight I’d lost. It figured. But I didn’t care anymore. Nothing I ever did for him went noticed. I was done. Finito.

  Without a sound, I slipped out of the house, closing the door gently behind me. I walked and walked aimlessly, but my unconscious was working overtime, because after a while I found myself standing before Clinton Street School, precisely under Julian’s illuminated office window. I stood there until the sky turned from dark blue to purple, a golden light still lingering at the fringes above the city. I swung open the gate and sat on a bench—the same bench Julian and I had sat on a million years ago—staring at my swollen, now practically purple feet, and finally sinking my head into my shoulders.

  It wasn’t long before Julian came out, and I could tell he was surprised to see me there, sitting under a streetlamp, my heels on the bench beside me. He strode over to me, and before I knew what he was about, he lifted me into his arms in one swift movement.

  “No,” I said, ashamed. “I’m too heavy. Put me down.”

  “Nonsense,” he whispered and took me to his jeep, placing me in the passenger seat. I slumped into it, stony-faced and furious with the world. Of all people, he was the last person I had wanted to see me like this, wasn’t he? And yet I had come here, to him. What did that say about what I really wanted? Who knew, but I didn’t care anymore. I was done pretending.

  Julian stopped before a large, elegant house and came round to lift me into his arms again, closing the car door with his hip. I rested my head against his shoulder, absorbing the odd feeling of having him carry me, and the sensation of strong, hot male around me. The last time someone had done that I had been about five and had sprained my ankle. The hero had been my dad. But this time it was Julian, and I enjoyed the guilty pleasure of his body near me.

  I looked into Julian’s face, so close to mine I could smell his familiar scent. I had smelled him before, in his jeep on the way back from the play, in the darkness of the car, and sitting on the sofa next to me. His scent had imprinted itself in my mind.

  I fought the urge to kiss him, as he simply smiled at me and I knew I must have been a sight, my eyes puffy and my bun coming undone. Why was I always such a mess around him?

  “What will the neighbors think?” I whispered, not sure what I meant.

  “That I’m a very lucky man,” he whispered back, and still none of it made sense.

  Once inside, he peeled off my stockings (one was already around my knees) and bathed my feet in some special solution for athletes and dried them gently, his eyes never meeting mine. I watched him, mesmerized, as the blush seeped into his cheeks, his hands shaking, his breath quick. I was an absolute wreck, too, trembling from head to toe.

  “I owe you big time,” I whispered breathlessly, caressing his face, unable to stop myself.

  He shut his eyes tight for a moment, as if suffering from a major migraine, and turned his face in my hand to kiss my palm. “I’m the one who owes you, Erica...”

  For what, I didn’t want to know. I reached up and kissed his lips. They were soft but firm and hot. Too hot for a principal’s lips. And what if it turned out that he and I didn’t click? Like Ira? That the minute he saw me naked it would not only take the wind out of his sails, but bring down the mast as well?

  “I’m not... turning you off, am I?”

  “See for yourself,” he said gruffly, taking my hand, guiding it towards… oh, goodness. From what I could see, it was sails ahoy.

  “I did this to you?”

  “You did this to me,” he murmured against my mouth. “You always do and I want you so badly...” he whispered as his mouth left mine to travel down to my shirt buttons and began tugging on them. I willed him to hurry before my mind figured out what he was about to do.

  Ira had never understood or cared to learn my most sensitive spots. I loved my throat to be kissed and nuzzled and nibbled. I loved it as much as I loved everything else, and I was enjoying every moment of it.

  Julian came closer, so close I could see the flecks of blue in his aquamarine eyes. He smelled of soap and I don’t know what else, but I knew in an instant that I’d recognize his body in the dark among millions of people. That scent was like a secret code I responded to, like
when you touched a live wire or something, only delicious.

  His hand rested on the back of my head, almost timidly, watching my face as his mouth descended onto my lips, caressing them tentatively, as if asking me a silent question, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck and slipped my fingers into his dark hair, something inside me exploded, and I had to hang on if I didn’t want to reel off into space. For real.

  His mouth was teasing, and his kiss made me shoot skywards, higher and higher like in those Mills and Boon romances I’d binged on as a child, breaking away from the earth’s pull of gravity. I was light, ultra-light, and giddy. There wasn’t enough oxygen going to my brain. I never remembered kisses being like that! I never knew that lip-on-lip contact could make me so hot for a guy.

  Usually it took me a long time to get carbureting, but Julian’s lips were like magic. All they had to do was touch my skin and—boom!—I was on fire. How the hell had I managed to live without this sensation for so long?

  I gasped, coming up for air, my hands still clasping his neck. Whoa. Wow.

  “Hello,” he whispered, his voice so deep it made my skin tingle.

  “Fancy bumping into you,” I whispered playfully, by now a complete goner. I imagined that if I’d traveled the world and cherry-picked the best qualities of the best human male specimens and put them all together, I still wouldn’t have someone like Julian. He was kind, patient, loyal. He was everything Ira had never been and could never be in a million years. Helpful, optimistic, creative, passionate. And one helluva kisser.

  The next few steps, which would have involved stripping and lying next to him, were a little trickier. No matter how good he made me feel, I knew that the minute he saw me naked it would be the end of it. I’d seen the Google images of the beautiful women on his arm at parties and stuff. I wasn’t blind. Soon, he’d tire of the messy screwball of an odd housewife that had held a challenge for him. But for now, I couldn’t help but enjoy what he was doing to me.

 

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