by Zoe Chant
Dean was laughing, too, one arm still around her as he shoved the dog with the other. “Bingo, back!” he ordered ineffectively.
They finally regained their feet, chortling and clinging to each other, and Shelley kicked off her heels.
Bingo sat at their feet and looked up, panting hopefully. Clearly he thought he had done something worthy of praise.
“I’m washing my face before I kiss you again,” Shelley declared. “My own face,” she told Bingo.
As she did, she heard Dean washing his hands in the kitchen sink, scolding Bingo good-naturedly.
She returned from the bathroom in her bare feet.
“You’re short,” Dean said breathlessly.
“I am not,” Shelley protested. He was even more handsome looking flushed from their exertion, and he was smiling more naturally than he had all night. “You just hadn’t seen me without heels.” She had to look up at him.
“It’s hot,” Dean said, his grin spreading. How could teeth make her knees weak? “Now, where were we?”
“I think we were finding a safer place to continue this,” Shelley purred.
“I have a suggestion,” Dean said, and he took her by the hand and led her past the disappointed dog and up the stairs, to the bedroom that Shelley had been desperately hoping he was taking her to.
She had shed her shirt before he had a chance to kick the door shut behind them, and was gratified by the way he stopped and stared without breathing at the sight of her blue lace bra.
“Your turn,” she told him, pulling up his shirt.
He tore it off so quickly that Shelley heard stitches snap, and then she had her own moment of breathless awe at the vision of his beautiful, broad chest.
She could not have later described how the rest of their clothing came off. She only knew that his fingers were like fire on her skin, and his kisses took her places she’d never imagined. Want and need warred with something deeper, something more real.
Shelley wanted this man differently than she’d ever wanted anyone... or anything... in her entire life.
She wanted to wrap herself around him, protect him, bare herself to him, tell him every secret and learn every one of his. With every piece of clothing, she felt like some part of her shell was peeled away, like he was seeing the real Shelley, not the Shelley she had to show everyone else.
It was only when they were both completely naked that he laid her back on the bed, one hand at her waist, the other catching their fall. His weight on her, his hard cock pressed against her thigh... it was almost too much.
She spread her legs and begged, “Please...”
She was so wet that he slid straight in with just the slightest change in angle and pressure, and she clawed the bed and rose to meet him.
He paused, buried in her, and Shelley could hear his teeth grind in concentration; he was as tightly wound as she was.
She whimpered and tried to move, craving the friction, and he withdrew a tantalizing inch and drove back in.
A cry escaped her... pleasure and desire... and he thrust again, and again, until they were coupling desperately and Shelley was falling from heights she’d never known.
They lay together a long while afterwards, hands trailing lazily over each other’s limbs. He had the most fascinating ripples of muscles, and such long, clever, calloused fingers. Shelley thought she could lie there forever, her whole body utterly content.
Suddenly Dean stiffened in alarm and sat up. “Did anyone blow out the candles?”
“I... I don’t think so,” Shelley said.
They both scrambled out of bed and raced downstairs naked.
Bingo, who had been sleeping at the foot of the stairs, sprang to his feet in surprise and began barking in random directions, clearly not sure what was happening, but determined to be a part of it.
One of the candles had guttered out entirely and the other was giving its last dying flickers. Hot wax had pooled under the holders.
Dean blew out the remaining flame and Shelley clung to him as they laughed in relief. “I’m sure it would have made a very poor impression to burn down my house on our second date,” Dean said sheepishly.
Shelley kissed him. “After what we just did, I would have forgiven you even having to stand out naked in the cold waiting for the fire department.”
To her surprise, Dean blushed. “Considering I’m a third of our fire department, that would be pretty humiliating.”
“You’re a firefighter?” Shelley exclaimed in surprise.
“Volunteer,” Dean said dismissively. “I should have warned you, I’m pretty much always on call. Chances of a call are really slim, our district is just Green Valley and we don’t get called out further unless both Farshoot and Dashum are already on multiple jobs; they’ve got real stations. We’re not even NFPA qualified. It’s basically some guys with cellphones, ugly suits, and an old surplus Forestry Service truck that I’ve kept running with duct tape. Most of our callouts are cats in trees and Stanley wanting us to get a tractor out of mud like some kind of free tow service. Why are you staring at me?”
“Because I did not realize that you could get even sexier,” Shelley purred, sidling up to him. They were still naked and it seemed like the perfect excuse to touch him.
He leaned over and kissed her, drawing him into her arms where she belonged.
It was like puzzle pieces, or Pringles: everything of her seemed to fit everything of him absolutely perfectly.
“Wait,” he murmured. “The curtains are open...”
“Maybe you should close them,” Shelley suggested. “For the rest of the weekend...”
“That is a great plan,” Dean agreed.
Chapter 16
Dean knew that the closed curtains would have the neighbors talking... but what happened behind them would have caused even more gossip.
They made love on every surface in the house: the kitchen table, the kitchen counter, the washing machine, the couch—which had to be abandoned because Bingo kept sticking cold wet dog nose where it was wildly unwelcome—the stairs, the shower, the sunroom, Dean’s desk, the bedroom floor...
Every time that Dean thought they might have finally satisfied their animals’ wild needs, Shelley would cast a playful sideways look at him, or he’d accidentally brush up against her, which obviously meant he had to kiss her, and they were off again.
He didn’t leave the house except to take Bingo out at odd hours, and they returned swiftly.
He and Shelley didn’t really talk in depth until Sunday afternoon, when Deirdre’s looming return made them shower in earnest and straighten the house.
“Should I... go?” Shelley asked tentatively, folding the afghan over the back of the couch. Her face was back in what Dean was calling boardroom mode, perfectly serene if you didn’t know her a little.
He knew her more than a little now, didn’t he?
Dean stopped scraping wax off the kitchen table and came around to her. “Shelley... I want you to be a part of my life. Of our lives. Please stay.”
To her credit, she didn’t flinch.
“Package deal,” she murmured, nodding slowly. “I know.”
“But we don’t have to do it all at once,” Dean reassured her, taking her hands in his own. “We can figure this out as we go. I don’t... want it to be awkward.”
There was the real smile, the crooked, amused little glimpse of the Shelley beneath the mask.
“We’ve got a lot of details to resolve,” she agreed like the lawyer she was. “Living arrangements, financial decisions... I’d like to read your custody contract.”
“My what?”
“Your custody contract. What we do could impact child support or custody schedules.”
“I don’t even know where the divorce papers are,” Dean told her, baffled. “That was five years ago. Deirdre and I just work things out on a week-by-week basis. It changes all the time.”
Shelley looked at him skeptically. “You don’t have a settlement that
says who pays for what or divides your custody time?”
“If Aaron needs something, one of us gets it for him,” Dean explained, trying to understand Shelley’s surprise. “He’s at my house for school because his best friends are here and we try to work out all the weekends and holidays with Deirdre’s schedule that we can manage.”
Shelley was silent.
Finally, she looked down at her hands where Dean still held them. “I guess I just assumed it was like my parents’ divorce, where every hour and dollar was held accountable.”
“Deirdre and I don’t do that,” Dean said gently.
“You still love her.”
Dean knew he was quiet too long, but Shelley didn’t pull away. “Not like that,” he was finally able to say. “Not like this.”
He looked at the clock. The others wouldn’t be there for another half an hour, at least.
“C’mon,” he said, pulling her to the couch. “Let me tell you what happened. It’s... important that you know.” If he didn’t tell her, someone else was going to tell her something worse.
Sitting on the couch was an inevitable invitation to Bingo, who immediately jumped up to get cuddles. He could sense the somber mood and didn’t attempt to lick anyone or crawl into Shelley’s lap. He did sit beside her and lean into her shoulder until she pushed him away and then he lay down and put his head into her lap. After a moment, she stroked his ears and he closed his eyes with a groan of bliss.
Dean wanted to think that her acceptance of Bingo was a good sign of further domestic compatibility, but he knew better than to read too much into it.
“Why isn’t Bingo afraid of my lion?” Shelley asked thoughtfully. “Or your bear, for that matter?”
“He’s too stupid to fear things,” Dean said. “I watched him try to get a big, angry bull to play with him, and you can play fetch with nothing for about an hour before he figures out there never was a ball to start with.”
They weren’t sitting as comfortably with each other as they had all weekend, draped casually together, but when he put an arm around her, she leaned into him with a sigh.
“Deirdre and I went to high school together. First real love and all, and we thought it would be forever. Forever and a family.” Dean paused, waiting for it to be hard to say, and was surprised by how distant it all felt.
“Deirdre’s a deer shifter, and we never kept secrets from each other. So... when she met Juan... she came straight to me and she told me.”
I’m so sorry, Deirdre had said, weeping. I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to do this to you.
“She cheated on you,” Shelley said ferociously. Bingo opened his eyes warily. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here when she gets back.”
“No!” Dean said promptly. “I mean, I know that’s what people think. It’s the obvious answer. But... Juan was her mate. Nothing happened until I let her go.”
“Oh,” Shelley said breathlessly. “Oh.”
She returned to petting Bingo and he closed his eyes again, tail thumping on the arm of the couch.
“She offered to stay. For Aaron, and because she’d promised. But I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t keep her, knowing she’d never be happy, just because I wanted her for myself.”
Shelley tucked herself closer to Dean’s side and he wondered if he only imagined the wave of her love and sympathy.
“I mean, don’t think that our marriage was perfect, or that we didn’t drive each other crazy on a regular basis. We were two clueless parents in an impossible situation. But Juan loves Aaron as much as Deirdre and I do, and I loved her too much to keep them apart. We had enough reasons to put in the work. Even when it was hard.”
He shifted Shelley in his arms and lifted her chin so he could drown in her eyes. “I didn’t understand what Deirdre felt then, I had to trust what she told me. But I understand now, I know how badly that must have torn her up inside, how strong and deep and amazing meeting your mate can be. And I know you don’t want all the things I come with, but I know that it’s worth it, even if it’s hard, and I will do whatever it takes to make this work.”
Chapter 17
Shelley had spent the weekend thinking there was no possible way to fall harder in love with Dean.
But every time she turned around, there was some new revelation about him: he was a firefighter, he periodically hired a local homeless guy under the table with diner gift certificates, he’d rescued Bingo after he’d been hit by a truck and nursed the tragically dumb mutt back to health. Shelley was beginning to think she must be living in some kind of dream; he was so good, so selfless.
And then he told her how much he loved another woman and managed to make it even that about how much he loved her.
“Shelley...” he said, in that deep, honey voice. “Shelley, you’re crying...”
“I never thought it could be like this,” she whispered back. “I never guessed.”
Then he was kissing her and Bingo was panting and trying to get in on the action with his tongue, tail wagging against the back of the couch as he squirmed into their laps.
“This... is a lot... harder... with your help...” Dean told the dog between kisses.
Then there was an unexpected beep of a horn from the curb outside and they were drawing away from each other in alarm. Bingo leapt from the couch, barking and running for the door.
Shelley tried to pull herself together, wiping away her tears and straightening her blouse as Dean rose to open the door.
A quick check in her powder mirror showed Shelley that the damage wasn’t too bad; she really needed a full round of make-up to feel ready for what was coming, but Dean had convinced her that she shouldn’t wear any over the weekend. (It tastes bad! he had complained, and Shelley wasn’t willing to risk fewer kisses for flawless matte skin.)
“Why did you honk, Mom?” Aaron was asking as he burst into the house. “You told me that you were only supposed to honk if there was going to be an accident. Was there almost an accident? I didn’t see one, was there another car?”
“Never mind, Aaron,” Deirdre said cheerfully. “Down, Bingo. Hi, Dean! Hi, Shelley!”
Shelley replied with a tiny hi that was completely lost in the chaos that swirled into the house.
Bingo was still barking happily, cavorting around everyone’s feet and trying desperately to get someone’s attention.
Aaron made a beeline for Dean and was swept up into a tight hug. “Hi Dad!”
Shelley braced herself for another uncomfortable hug, but Aaron, once released, dropped his bag and hat and raced for the kitchen. “I’m starving!”
“Don’t believe him if he tells you I didn’t feed him this weekend,” Deirdre said, handing Dean what looked like a laundry bag. “He ate two and half hot dogs for lunch and a three-egg omelet this morning for breakfast.”
“Growing boy,” Dean observed. “Pretty sure I was the same way.”
“He’s decided he doesn’t like bell peppers any more.”
“Weren’t they his favorite vegetable last week?”
“That was last week. Aaron! I have to go, come give me a hug!”
Aaron trailed out of the kitchen holding an apple with two giant bites out of it.
“Bye, Mom!” he said around the missing part of the apple. He gave her a distracted hug and finally seemed to notice that Shelley was there. “You look less fancy.”
Shelley had no idea what to say to that.
“Juan and I want to go out with you two soon—you three,” Deirdre corrected herself, ruffling Aaron’s hair. “Shelley, we’re dying to get to know you, I’m sorry I can’t stay, if you’re ever in Madison, we’ve got to have lunch. Dean can give you my number. Dean, give her my number. Bye, sugar! See you next weekend!”
“I thought you had plans next weekend and I had him,” Dean said, looking not nearly as bemused as Shelley felt.
“I’ve rearranged. I’m sure you’ll need next weekend off. I’ll be on time, promise.”
Deirdre winked at
Shelley and Shelley felt her cheeks turn scarlet.
There was a flurry of additional ‘byes’ and hugs and then Deirdre was gone, and it wasn’t much quieter without her.
Bingo was still trotting between everyone in the room, tail wagging so enthusiastically it sounded like a drum whenever he passed a wall, and Aaron was talking non-stop about his weekend away. “Mom asked a lot of questions about you,” he told Shelley. “We had stuffed peppers for dinner but I didn’t eat the pepper part but the middle was really good. It had sausage and cheese.”
“Oh,” Shelley managed before he was going on.
“Mom didn’t let me watch Iron Man, can we watch Iron Man? Trevor’s seen Iron Man and I really really really really really want to see it.”
“We were just talking about what we were going to do tonight,” Dean said peaceably. “What were you thinking about, Shelley?”
Shelley looked gravely down at Aaron. He had hazel eyes just like Dean, but she could see some of Deirdre’s face shape beneath his childish cheeks, and he had her curly hair. “I thought I would stay for dinner and sleep here tonight and... tomorrow I might go to Minneapolis and spend a day or two getting a few of my things to bring over and extending my leave of absence at work. I’d stay here for a while, if that’s okay.”
“Can we watch a movie?” Aaron asked, clearly not caring about the rest of the plan.
Dean was not looking at Aaron, he was looking at Shelley and his eyes were like suns. “Sure, kiddo. Anything you want.”
“Can we watch Deadpool?” Aaron tested.
“Goodness, no!” Shelley surprised herself by saying at the same time as Dean said, “No!” Even she knew that much.
Aaron shrugged and grinned.
“I’ll go start dinner,” Dean said. Shelley wondered if she’d been wrong about seeing Deirdre in the little boy’s face, because their grins were exactly the same. “Who wants grilled cheese on the couch while we watch Iron Man?”
“Meeeeeeee!” Aaron hollered.
“Yes, please!” Shelley said with a smile. “I’ll get the movie set up.”
Aaron, still chewing on his apple, directed her, showing her which remote was which. Shelley reminded herself that his sticky fingers wouldn’t do any lasting damage.