The Red Wife

by Tyffani Clark Kemp

  “Mariss, I don't know what you feel for me. Or if you do. I don't even know what I feel for you.”

  Mariss smiled. “Of course you don't, and I'm okay with that. We'll figure it out.”

  There was one hard rap at the door and it flew open. Brenda came through the doorway, arms folded like she'd expected to find them wrapped around each other, their mouths so close that they were breathing the same air. Her eyes shot daggers at both of them.

  “That FBI man is here,” she hissed, and turned on her heel.

  Sebastian pressed one more kiss to Mariss' lips before he unwrapped her legs from his hips and helped her down from the dresser. “We'll talk later.”

  Mariss didn't follow after him right away. She smoothed her already sleek hair and checked her appearance in the mirror, pulling her skirt back down where it belonged. Herbert was going to think what he wanted to think no matter how she looked coming out of the same room as Sebastian. Still, she made sure she was presentable before joining the men.

  She found them in the living room. Herbert lounged in the middle of the pristine white sectional that wrapped around the whole room. Sebastian was pouring himself a drink in the kitchen.

  “Hello, Herbert.”

  “Mrs. Red,” he greeted her. Since Hellena's death had been ruled a cut and dry suicide, Herbert had been frosty to both her and Sebastian, though he was quick to help when Mariss was worried her life was in danger. He blamed them both for Hellena's death, and she couldn't fully blame him, but the woman had been unstable from the get-go, unable to accept that Sebastian wanted to be with Mariss or to let go of whatever dreams she had of the two of them being together.

  “We apprehended the two drivers, but I'm worried there may be more close by. I have men watching the house and I want to have your boat checked before you go out on it, Sebastian,” Herbert declared.

  “That's fine.” Sebastian lifted his glass to his lips. “Do you have a problem with that, Mariss?”

  She shook her head. “Not if it means we get back safe and in one piece. I have no plans to be blown to bits this weekend. I have eight huge projects on my desk when I get back. Speaking of projects, where's Brenda? I need to get my book back from her.”

  “I believe she's in her room.”

  “If my presence isn't needed?” she asked, looking between the two of them. Neither man objected. “Where is Brenda's room?”

  Sebastian pointed up to a door on the balcony.

  “Right. Wish me luck,” she said to Herbert. “I'm going into the bitch's nest.”

  “Mariss,” Sebastian called after her, but she ignored him.

  Jogging up the stairs, she knew this wasn't going to be pleasant. Mariss knocked on the door and waited. Brenda apeared a moment later, her face pulled into a disgusted scowl.

  “What do you want?”

  “I'd like my book back, please.”

  Brenda started, apparently having forgotten that she had Mariss' proof copy. She disappeared and returned a moment later with the book.

  “Take it,” she hissed. “It's not that good anyway.”

  “Did you finish it?” Mariss looked up in time to catch Brenda's shrug. “Must not have been bad either. Well, that wasn't as dramatic as I expected. Thanks.”

  Mariss slipped back down the stairs and returned to her room. She dug her pen and highlighter out of her bag and laid out on the bed to work on edits.

  Mariss answered the door an hour later, sure that it was going to be Brenda on the other side. Sebastian would have just walked in.

  “How can I help you?” Mariss asked, rather clinically, but as per usual, the older woman didn't realize Mariss was being cold.

  Brenda took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Mariss tipped her head to the side and waited.

  “Why don't you like me?”

  Mariss' eyes went round. Was this woman seriously asking her that question?

  “I mean, I know that things aren't going to be perfect between us given our relationships with Sebastian, but I don't know what I've done for you to treat me the way you do.”

  Brenda folded her hands in front of her and stared at Mariss with innocent eyes. Anger and disgust bubbled to the surface from deep within and Mariss snapped before she could be bothered to stop herself.

  “Listen close, Slice n' Dice. Listen real well. From the moment you stormed into Sebastian's spare room like you owned him or something, you've been in my face about the way Sebastian feels about me. I can't do anything about that. I'm sorry you're jealous, but the truth is, I didn't ask for Sebastian to fanboy me and I certainly didn't ask for the feelings I have for him, so you need to get off your bullshit before you get hurt.”

  Her voice rose in pitch until Sebastian and Herbert were standing in the hallway, assessing the situation. Mariss turned to them and said, “Sebastian, you'd better get your Boner Barbie out of my face before I cut her.”

  Herbert snorted and turned around, making a quick escape down the hallway. A loud slap echoed through the hall as the sting of it registered. Mariss grabbed her face and blinked in shock at Brenda. She reached for the older woman as Sebastian swiped her out of the way.

  “Herbert!” he called. The FBI agent came running. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to figure out who to grab. “Please take Mariss into her room and keep her there.”

  Mariss growled as Herbert corralled her into the bedroom. His body shook as he tried to contain his laughter until the door was closed.

  “I think you made her cry,” Herbert laughed.

  “I don't give a fuck. Stupid bitch. She has no idea what she's gotten herself into. I don't understand why she's even dating him except that she wants the attention.”

  “That's all it ever is,” Herbert said. “Except for you, which I still don't get.”

  Mariss huffed. “Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out. It's not worth the time or effort. That stupid bitch slapped me.” She touched her face where she'd been hit. It still stung and she still wanted to stab Brenda. Mariss was vaguely aware that she was becoming more violent as opposed to less, but at the moment she couldn't be bothered by it.

  Sebastian came in a little while later, his jaw set and his face grim.

  “Before you start casting blame, I want you to understand that you don't have the right to talk to her any which way.”

  Sebastian's tone dripped with acid. Under normal circumstances, Mariss would have made a slick comment, but the look in his eyes stayed her tongue. The way he glared at her was neither kind nor gentle and she felt his fury from halfway across the room.

  “I don't know what she said to you and I don't bloody care. I expect you to be the bigger person when she acts immature. Now, get ready for dinner.”

  Mariss shook her head and crossed her arms. “I'm not going to dinner with you, Sebastian. Take Brenda instead. She needs your love and attention more than I do,” she spat.

  Mariss slammed the bathrom door, ending the conversation.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HANGER BANGER BARBIE

  Water closed around Mariss as she dove into the pool. It was a little cooler than she would have prefered, but it had been a while since she had the time to spare to take a swim. Sebastian and Brenda had only been gone for about ten minutes.

  Mariss surfaced and rolled onto her back to float.

  “You know the pool is heated.” Herbert's moody tone greeted her. “Sebastian asked me to stay and make sure you're okay,” he explained and took a seat on the edge of one of the chairs.

  “I'm not going to be swimming long. I have edits to work on.”

  “Oh, well, I turned it on. How are you doing?”

  Mariss paddled to the edge and rested her chin on her arms. “Why? What did Sebastian say?”

  “He said to keep an eye on you and call him if anything weird happens.”

  Mariss laughed. “I'm fine, but you should text him just to fuck with him.”

  Herbert grinned. “It's tempting.”


  She pushed off the side and paddled across the pool on her back. She stayed that way for a while, leisurely floating around the pool until the call of her work was too hard to ignore. Mariss heaved herself over the edge and sloshed water across the concrete to her towel.

  “I didn't know you had that much ink,” Herbert said when she turned her back to him.

  “Oh, yeah.” She'd had the artwork for so long she often forgot it was there. A vine of deep red roses wound its way from her right hip to her left shoulder with skulls interspersed in grey and black. “I forget about it sometimes.” She shrugged.

  Mariss dried off and slipped into some yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. On the other side of the pool was a gazebo with a double bed. She grabbed her proof, pen, and highlighter, and settled in to finish before the night was over.

  “How long have you been out here?”

  Sebastian's voice brought Mariss out of her book. She only had three chapters left to edit. She rolled over to look at him.

  “Not long after you left, but honestly, if you're here to yell at me some more, I'm not in the mood.”

  “Do you need to be yelled at?” Sebastian sat on the bed beside her.

  Mariss rolled back over, too angry to look at him. “What's the point in explaining it to you?” she asked. “You don't care.”

  “Mariss, that's not true, and you know it.”

  “That's what you said. You don't care that she came at me like she hasn't done anything but accuse me of trying to steal you from her from day one. Or that she hasn't had an attitude like a spoiled child because she can't accept that she's not the only woman you sleep with.”

  “You and I aren't sleeping together, Mariss.”

  “What would you have done if she'd slapped you?”

  “I would have had Clint take her home and sent her things to her by post,” he admitted.

  “So why am I any different? You watched her hit me and did nothing about it.”

  “You don't know that.”

  Mariss twisted around to glare at him, knowing full well he'd done nothing but cater to Brenda's attitude.

  “You don't know what was said after you went to your room.”

  “You mean after you sent me to my room like a damn child.” She closed her book, leaving the pen and highlighter to mark her place.

  Sebastian heaved a heavy sigh as he realized he wasn't going to win the argument. “Look, why don't you come inside? I brought you something to eat.”

  “Oh, great. Leftovers.”

  “Why would I bring you leftovers?” He asked the question like it was an unheard of act. “I had a meal prepared for you.”

  “I'll eat it later,” she said. “I'm not hungry right now.”

  “Suit yourself.” His voice had a tone to it that said he was frustrated. “Am I sleeping with you tonight or are you dumping me on the sofa?”

  “You can sleep anywhere you like, Sebastian. It's your rental, your money.”

  “Then I'll be sleeping with you.” Sebastian stood abruptly and stomped away.

  Mariss struggled not to giggle at his ridiculous temper tantrum. “You act just like a four year old sometimes.”

  He pretended not to hear her.

  Mariss finished her edits before she went into the house through her room. She showered and washed her hair and dressed before slipping out to the kitchen. The house was quiet except for some sounds and amazing smells coming from the kitchen.

  She found Sebastian at the stove cooking something.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Mariss stopped just inside the doorway.

  “Your food got cold,” he said, his voice brooding and moody.

  “So you're cooking?”

  “Yes,” was all he said.

  He turned, an apron tied around his waist. Mariss snorted before she could stop herself.

  “Sebastian, is that an apron?”

  He frowned at her. “Yes.”

  She pursed her lips and sat at the bar. “Alright. Before I call a truce, where is Hanger Banger Barbie?”

  Sebastian gave her an angry scowl, but answered, “Out with Herbert. I told her to do some shopping so I could get your temper under control.”

  “And how do you propose to control my temper?”

  “I'll think of something.” His words were benign, but his meaning was easily inferred, especially when his blue eyes smoldered like that.

  “So, what are you cooking?”

  “Spaghetti,” Sebastian answered and turned back to the stove. “It's almost finished. I look forward to your garlic breath.”

  “I bet you do.” Mariss sat on the stool at the bar. “I have the most fabulous garlic breath. Is there wine?”

  “Yes.” Sebastian poured two glasses of red wine from a bottle in the wine cooler beneath the counter. Mariss took her drink and sipped.

  “Brenda said you were working on edits,” Sebastian said. “Did you finish?”

  “Yes. Did she tell you anything about the book?”

  He nodded. “She quite enjoyed it.”

  Mariss smirked. “That's not what she told me.”

  “No, I don't supposed she would.” Sebastian set his drink down and caught Mariss in his gaze. “I let her know that if she ever put her hands on you again I would have her arrested.”

  “Would you really?” Mariss asked, amused.

  “No, probably not, but it got her attention. I really would have prefered to have dinner with you tonight.”

  “We're having dinner now.”

  “You're having dinner now. I wanted to take you out.” The corner of his mouth pursed in thought.

  “Like on a date?” she frowned.

  “Yes. Like on a date.”

  “Oh. Well, if you weren't such an asshole, it would have been me. Where did you take her?”

  “The Red Bar Brasserie.”

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  A timer buzzed and Sebastian turned to plate up her food.

  After she ate, which didn't take long as Sebastian was more content to watch her eat than carry on a conversation full of small talk, they went back to her room to lay down. Mariss turned on the TV, since she wasn't quite ready to sleep, and snuggled against Sebastian. It had been two weeks since they'd shared a bed and she knew she was starting to get used to it by the way her body relaxed into his.

  “I wanted to go with you tonight,” she muttered. “You're just so infuriating.”

  His body shook with silent laughter. “You think that's the first time I've been told that? Come now, sweetheart. You know me better than that.”

  “I'm trying to open the lines of communication here, Bassy. Share my feelings. Get them out in the open.”

  “Ah, is that what that was? I apologize. Please, continue.”

  “No, I'm done. You ruined it,” she pouted, yet snuggled closer to him.

  “That's fine. I was trying to watch this…show anyway. What is this that we're watching? It's ridiculous.”

  “I have no idea. You can change it if you want.”

  “No, it's fine.”

  She laughed and settled in for an uneventful evening in alone with Sebastian.

  Mariss woke on her back with Sebastian poking her in the thigh. His leg was entwined with hers with his arm tucked around her ribs. It was probably the most intimate position they'd ever been in outside of sex. The level of comfort she was sure it took for him to wrap himself around her like that had to be astronomical. She watched his sleeping face, sure he'd wake up any moment, but to her surprise, he didn't wake up until the alarm went off fifteen minutes later.

  Sebastian's eyes opened slowly, peering at her over the pillow. He didn't say anything, just stared. Mariss blinked and smiled.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He didn't answer and she wondered if he was really awake or not. Finally, he moved. Sebastian pulled her under him as he rose up off the bed. His lips pressed to hers. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she returned the gesture. Mariss'
hands tightened on his upper arms. Sebastian caught her leg behind the knee and lifted it so his rigid length was pressed against her.

  “You're so hot for me, May.”

  Mariss shuddered and wrapped her leg around his hip to free up his hands so they could explore other places. As if he knew what she was thinking, his hands traveled up her body and under her shirt to splay across her stomach.

  They broke apart to breathe. Sebastian kissed her neck. She turned her head to the side so he could find the spot just behind her ear that drove her crazy.

  He attacked it with lips and teeth and mustach that knew what they were doing. Mariss moaned softly.

  A hesitant knock at the door made them both stop. Mariss dropped her leg from around his hips and shoved him away from her.

  “There's only one person that could be,” she said. “You get it. I'm going to shower.”

  Sebastian heaved himself off of her and went to the door. Mariss found her boating outfit and carried it to the bathroom with her.

  “Why did you sleep in here?” Mariss heard Brenda ask. She closed the door before Sebastian could answer and started the shower.

  She was starting to feel jealous of Brenda's jealousy and the attention Sebastian paid her, which was unfortunate. She didn't want to admit that she loved Sebastian, but what else was there? And was she even ready to have sex with him yet? Holden had only been gone a month. Still, that was a month without sex and her body was starting to tell her what it was craving. It wasn't chocolate, that was for damn sure.

  The bathroom door opened, letting in a waft of cool air. Sebastian's head peeked around the curtain and he gave her wet, naked body an appreciative once over before he spoke.

  “Brenda wants me to take her to breakfast.”

  “Okay,” Mariss said. She squeezed some body wash onto a louffa. “What do I care?” Her tone was just a little too icy. She took a deep breath and let it out slow.

  “I was just letting you know. She's feeling neglected.” The madening smirk on his lips suggested he knew she was feeling the same way.

  Mariss chuckled. “How often do you have your girlfriends around each other for such long periods of time?”