Butterfly Lane

by T. L. Haddix

  “I would adore you forever if you folded the laundry. Have I ever mentioned that I hate, hate, hate folding laundry?” Zanny sent him a brilliant smile, and he relaxed.

  “You have not.” John made sure the boys were occupied before coming over to place a hand on either side of her hips, on the counter behind her.

  “Well, I do. Okay, ‘hate’ is a strong word. I don’t mind doing it when I’m not busy, but now that I’m working, my resentment for laundry is growing.” She made the confession ruefully, as she was still a little uncomfortable with the realization that she couldn’t do everything. “So I’d be in your debt if you could handle that for me.”

  “I can live with that.” John let his body rest against hers, and Zanny sighed with contentment.

  “Good.”

  A loud shriek from the living room was followed by a wail, and they jumped apart as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t. John touched her cheek, then headed to the boys. It took Zanny a full minute before she could turn around and finish opening the green beans.

  “Oh, yeah. This is definitely going to be an interesting evening.”

  The next three hours were so normal, so ordinary, and yet so precious. It was the first time in months they’d been together as a family, without the tension that had developed after the first fight.

  After they ate, Zanny got out the ice cream and made cones for everyone. They went to the backyard and sat on the steps, watching the boys chase fireflies and each other.

  “I love this time of day,” John said. “Watching them play, sitting with you. You know?”

  She did know. She leaned against his side, unable to speak around the lump in her throat, but he seemed to understand.

  When the boys were tired, Zanny and John got them upstairs and into the tub. Just absorbing the memory, she sat on the closed toilet and watched as John scrubbed them down. He was impossibly handsome and happier than she’d seen him in a while.

  “Let me hand you this slippery boy,” John said, interrupting her thoughts. He gave her a towel, and then Eli. “He’s about to go to sleep in the tub.”

  Eli could barely keep his eyes open. He blinked up at her, his thumb going to his mouth, and Zanny placed a kiss on his forehead.

  “Oh, you are worn out, aren’t you? What did you boys do today?”

  John followed with Noah, who answered her around a yawn. “We helped with the oil and in the barn, and I played with Moira. That made Grandpa sad.”

  “Moira?”

  Noah let out another big yawn as John stood him on his feet and dried him off.

  “I’ll explain later. Okay, my boy, lift up your feet.” He got Noah in his superhero underwear, then tucked him into bed. “No shirt tonight because it’s hot, right?”

  Zanny kissed Eli again, covering him with a light blanket. “Right. You know, I think it’s time for a big-boy bed,” she murmured as John came over to kiss Eli.

  “I think you’re right.”

  Both boys were asleep within minutes, and Zanny checked the baby monitor as they headed out of the room. “I’ll get the kitchen cleaned up if you want to get started on the sink.”

  “Okay. I may need an extra pair of hands in a little bit.”

  “Just holler when you need me.”

  Once John was safely in the bathroom, Zanny flew around the kitchen, getting things put up. She’d been adding dishes to the dishwasher as she cooked and had served them on paper plates instead of regular china, just to save time on cleanup. Once that was taken care of, she locked down the house for the night, then hurried into the bedroom. Peeping around the corner, she saw that John was firmly settled in under the sink. She eased back and tiptoed around the room, lighting the candles she’d strategically placed earlier that day. She checked the baby monitor and turned back the covers on the bed. The sheets were different, which gave her a second’s pause.

  “Probably let the boys sleep here, and one of them had an accident,” she muttered, dismissing the change.

  With the room ready, she undid the laces holding her bodice together and adjusted her breasts so that they were more exposed. When she retied the laces, the effect was provocative, to say the least. Barely keeping in a nervous giggle, she checked her reflection in the mirror before going to check on John.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Pretty good. Once I get this nut off, if you can lift the faucet straight up, that’d be great.”

  “I can do that.” Zanny assessed his splayed legs. Moving carefully, she stepped in so that she was straddling one of his legs. Her right foot was between his legs, which was exactly what she’d hoped would be the case. In position, she waited.

  “Okay, it’s ready. Just lift it straight up.”

  Leaning her hips against the counter, Zanny lifted the faucet. At the same time, she very carefully drew her foot up between John’s legs, moving slowly. She felt him jump and met her gaze in the mirror with an evil grin. “Like that?”

  He cleared his throat. “That’s fine. Now, take the new faucet and put it back where the old one was.”

  The new faucet was lying on the counter, and Zanny exchanged them. She left her foot where it was. “And what do I do with these pipes that are sticking out? Put them in the holes? Slowly?” She had to bite her lip to hold in a giggle.

  John drew in a ragged breath. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

  “Slowly,” she drawled, lowering the faucet and her foot. When she felt a thunk, she winced. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just bumped my head.”

  Checking her boobs in the mirror, she implemented phase two. She ducked down, getting on her hands and knees, and looked under the sink. His gaze was focused on connecting the new faucet.

  “Hi.”

  He gave her a tense smile. “Hi. Can you hand me that…”

  “That what?” She thought she was going to strain a muscle keeping a straight face. His eyes were glued to her chest, and he was barely breathing. He’d frozen as though someone had hit pause on his body, and his jaw had dropped a little. Playing along with the role of ingénue she’d adopted, Zanny glanced down at herself. “Oh, dear. My top slipped.”

  Sliding back out of the cabinet, she straightened the top a little. Instead of covering anything up, it just slipped more, which was exactly what she’d planned. “Well, that’s unfortunate. What was it you needed me to hand you? Was it this? John?” She picked up the wrench that was beside his hip and stroked it.

  His eyes were narrowed, and he was clearly trying to calculate whether or not she knew what she was doing. He reached out wordlessly, and she handed him the wrench.

  Zanny stood. “If I’m distracting you, I can leave.”

  “You stay right where you are.” He muttered something under his breath, but she couldn’t make it out. A few rustling sounds accompanied a couple of clangs of the wrench. “Try the water.”

  This time, when she stepped up to the sink, he put out his hand and captured her leg. His hand was warm around her ankle, and Zanny froze.

  “Try it.”

  She turned the knobs, one at a time, and water came out of the faucet. “Looks good.” She moved aside as John scrambled out from under the sink. His cheeks had a hard flush across them, and as he washed his hands, he kept his eyes on her in the mirror. When he lifted the towel off the ring to dry his hands, Zanny slid in between him and the sink.

  “So, John…that thing we did the other night?” She braced her hands on the counter behind her, which caused her breasts to stand out even more. “Was that a one-time experience or something I might expect a repeat of?”

  He dropped the towel and caged her with his body, pressing her backward. Zanny had to bring her hands up and grab his T-shirt to keep her balance.

  “Depends.”


  “On?”

  “What your intention is with this.” He traced the edge of her top with a finger, brushing against her half-exposed nipples with a teasing touch. His husky voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I could swear you’re trying to seduce me, Suzanna D’lores.”

  “Well, that depends.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “On?”

  “Whether you want to be seduced or not.”

  “What do you think?” he whispered, just before his mouth closed over hers in a kiss that turned Zanny inside out with need.

  She’d worried that the fire they’d built the other night would have gone out. But as John devoured her mouth with his, both hands plunged into her hair to hold her in place while he took what he wanted, she thought it might actually be burning hotter.

  Chapter Fifty

  John could hardly believe it. His wife, his sweet Zanny, had turned into a temptress. And she was good at it. As they kissed, he thought back to the Popsicle.

  “You were teasing me earlier, you little wench.” He ran his hands down her shoulders, taking the straps of her top with them.

  Zanny’s smile was full of mischief and more than a little pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t.” He kissed her again, softly, letting his lips linger. “So why don’t you show me what else you have planned?”

  “Gladly.” She pushed against his chest, and John moved back enough to let her pass. She took two steps toward the bedroom, then looked over her shoulder and crooked a finger at him. “Come on. You can lose the shirt any time you want.”

  “What about the rest?” He whisked off his T-shirt and tossed it aside, eagerly following her.

  “Not yet. Turn the light out?”

  The room was aglow with soft candlelight, and she’d moved the covers off the bed. Given how quickly they’d disposed of them the other night, once they’d finally made it to the bedroom, that was probably prudent.

  John joined her beside the bed and traced the line of her back as she undid the top. She dropped it to the floor. He reached up to cup her breasts, but she gently pushed his hands back down.

  “Have a seat.”

  As soon as his rear touched the mattress, she pushed him so that he was lying on his back. She undid her shorts, and John had a glimpse of the scanty lace panties she wore before she was on top of him, straddling him.

  “Umm, you are interested,” she sighed, rocking her pelvis against his erection. Her hands had come to rest on his belly, and she slid them up his chest as she leaned over. “I was so hoping you would be.”

  John ran his hands up and down her back. “Were you?”

  “Oh, yes. After the other night, I’ve not been able to think about much else.”

  “Is that so?” He was sure he was capable of words with more than one syllable. Maybe. But most of the blood had rushed out of his head and was currently occupying the throbbing space between his legs. He was as turned on as he could ever remember being, but the desperation to be inside Zanny was tempered, somewhat, by the need to see where she was taking this seduction.

  “Yes, that’s so. I love making love with you, John Campbell, but the other night? That was…beyond good.” She raised up a little, arching her back into his caress. The movement also pressed her more firmly exactly where he wanted, and he moved his hips in a subtle thrust that had her eyes falling half closed.

  “It was remarkable.” There, he’d used a bigger word. And he meant it. “There were a few things we didn’t get to do. I’ve not been able to get it off my mind, either. You might have noticed I had to change the sheets?” He reached up and pushed her hair back, then let his hand trail down to cup her breast.

  “I did. I figured one of the boys had an accident.”

  “No. They slept upstairs. This was all me.” He took her lips with an open-mouthed kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough. “I could smell you on the sheets, and when I went to sleep, I thought it was comforting. Not so much in the middle of the night, when I woke up to discover that I’d made a mess everywhere.”

  Zanny touched his cheek, her eyes soft with wonder and arousal. “You mean you had a wet dream?” she whispered. “About me?”

  John realized he’d dug himself into a hole. He couldn’t explain about the dream without confessing what it had been about. Seeing the openness and trust in her eyes, he figured he might as well open himself up.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The wonder mixed with intrigue. “What were we doing in this dream?”

  He nuzzled her jaw, then licked his way up to her ear. “This and that.”

  Zanny pulled back. “What were we doing?”

  John sighed and laced his hands together behind her. “I don’t want to tell you. It’s…It might bother you.”

  She frowned. “John, your not telling me is bothering me. That’s part of why we’ve been in such a mess. Please tell me.”

  “Fine, but there’s no pressure, okay?”

  “Okay.” She kissed him. “Tell me.”

  “I dreamed we were in my office. Well, sort of. My old office. But I was at the new job. You know how dreams are. Anyhow, it must have been a Saturday, because no one else was there. And it was really, really quiet. You came in, and…” He ducked his chin. Tracing the lacy edge of her panties, he moved one shoulder. “You were wearing that little red coat. The one you got last year?”

  “The raincoat? The raspberry one?”

  “Yeah. Red, raspberry, whatever. It looks good on you. That’s all I know.” Her eyes softened, and she smiled, but he continued. “So you took it off, right there in the office, windows open to the world. And you were naked.” He dropped a kiss onto one pert breast, and then deciding the other breast might feel left out, he kissed it, too.

  “And we, um, what? Made love? Right there in the office?”

  “Not exactly.” Bringing up his hand, John couldn’t meet her gaze as he touched her mouth. “You used this. On me.” He waited for her response.

  Zanny sat there quietly, not moving, until he couldn’t take it any longer.

  “Well?”

  “I’m thinking. Is that something you dream about a lot? Me using my mouth on you?”

  He shrugged again. “I’m a man. We pretty much all dream about that. Not all of us dreaming about you,” he hurried to clarify, “but about the women we’re interested in, doing…that.”

  Zanny laughed softly and tightened her arms around his neck. “You know, we tried that a couple of times. It didn’t go so well.”

  “I know. And like I said, there is absolutely no pressure on you. But you asked, and I wanted to answer.”

  She kissed him, slow and deep. “I have my own confession. I got some books after things happened and did some reading. A lot of reading.”

  “You did?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What kind of reading?” John couldn’t figure out why that mattered, but if she wanted to talk about books, naked in his arms, he wasn’t going to complain.

  “I’ll show you.” She slid off his lap and went to the tall chest of drawers across the room. The lacy scrap of cloth barely covered her rear, and John admired the view while she dug into her underwear drawer. “Here.”

  She brought three books back with her and handed them to him, then sat beside him.

  “Oh. That kind of reading.” He looked from the books to her and back again, not sure what to say.

  Zanny took the books and laid them aside. “They were very educational. And one of the things they all cover is, um, oral. And they describe some techniques, some practice runs. I tried a few of them.”

  A heavy silence followed. Their eyes were locked together, and John swallowed. “What, exactly, does that mean?”

&
nbsp; She flushed. “Let’s just say I have an entirely different outlook on cucumbers than I did.”

  John couldn’t help it. He snickered. “Cucumbers?”

  “Mmm. Yes. I’ve gone through quite a batch of them. I got so picky in the produce section one day, I swear the produce manager was giving me the evil eye.”

  He coughed to cover up the laugh, but wasn’t quite able to disguise it. “Picky?”

  She punched him lightly on the arm. “Well, I had to find one that was approximately the same shape and size as you. Otherwise, it wouldn’t do any good to practice.”

  “Zanny…” John threaded his fingers in to her hair and tipped her face up to his for a kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “The jury is still out on that,” she teased lightly. “But I hear a verdict is pending, and the defense has made an excellent case.”

  He kissed her again and tried to pull her down on the bed, but she resisted.

  “Not just yet, thank you.” She stood and went to the closet. “You know, we have an office set up for you in the basement.” For the first time that evening, John saw her hesitate. “If you wanted to go there.”

  He got up and went to her, tugging her around and into his arms. “Zanny, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do that for me.”

  She ran her hands over his arms and shoulders. “I don’t. I mean, I do. Oh, hell.” She hugged him. “I want to try it again. To see if this research I’ve been doing has changed things. I’ve always liked the idea, but I just wasn’t any good at it. And to be honest, the idea of playing out what got you so hot”—she glanced at the bed—“um, kind of turns me on.”

  John made her look at him. He studied her closely, not speaking, until he was convinced she wasn’t just telling him what he wanted to hear. All he saw was honesty and eagerness, tempered with a little concern and embarrassment. This wasn’t easy for either of them.