The Truth About Numbnuts and Chubbs

by Cat Kelly

  Reaching into her briefcase she took out the folded contract and looked again at the two words he'd penned in red ink across the first page.

  Marry Me.

  And so she had, just like that. Like Alice eating the cake that said "eat me".

  Benedick Petruska, perennial bachelor, was no more.

  He'd planned his sexy web to trap her, but in the end she caught him.

  She looked again at the photo he'd sent and realized he looked happy. He was holding her hand tightly. Who exactly had caught who?

  She hit "reply" and typed.

  I love you. Numbnuts.

  Bryony had just pressed send, when her office door opened without warning and Helena swept in like an angry nor-easter. "Thank God you're in. I need your help tonight. Ben Petruska has invited us to some dreadful party in a seedy bar in Brooklyn, of all places. I don't want to go, but Carl already accepted. Of course he never says no to that wretched man. You have to come with me. I can't stand those places—beer bellies and greasy food." She gave a delicate shudder. "There'll probably be a dart board too and...and...skittles. I feel sick at the thought. Do come. You can't possibly have anything else to do on a Monday night."

  Her cousin had barely looked at her as she talked. It seemed she hadn't even noticed Bryony was away all weekend. "Sure. I'll come." She smiled. "We'll have fun."

  "Fun?" she exclaimed, as if it was an outrageous suggestion. "If Carl wasn't being such a sulky rat about going, I'd stay home."

  "But you might regret it later. If you miss it."

  "Why? What could I possibly miss in Brooklyn?"

  Bryony slid her hands under the desk out of sight. "Oh, you never know. You might be surprised." Gotta hand it to Numbnuts; he loved his surprises.

  * * * *

  He took the little shell dog carefully out of its box and set it on his office desk, by his phone.

  "What the hell is that?" his lawyer snapped, sitting heavily.

  "A present." It was a rarity. Few women in his life had ever bought him gifts. "Reminds me of my old dog. Remember, Roly?"

  "Oh, right. That stinky stray mutt you took in. Didn't he eat out of garbage cans and run after all the bitches in the neighborhood?"

  "Yep," he said proudly. "That was Roly."

  "Forgot about that damn dog."

  But she hadn't.

  A new email popped up on his laptop. From Bryony.

  He opened it and read those four words from his wife.

  "What are you smiling at, Petruska?" his lawyer demanded, snapping open his briefcase. "You've just signed your life over to a woman when you said that would never happen. What are you? Pussy whipped?"

  "That's precisely why I am smiling."

  He thought of his grandmother shaking her finger at him. Snap her up now. She's a fine, strong, healthy girl. Not one of these dirty girls you like.

  Oh, grandma, you have no idea how fine and dirty she is.

  * * * *

  They walked into the bar together.

  "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked, clutching his coat sleeve.

  "No," he admitted frankly. "I can already hear your family's complaints. They'll probably try to have you committed."

  She chuckled. "True."

  A naughty twinkle made his eyes bright suddenly in the muted light of the old-fashioned bar. "Are you wearing that pearl thong, Mrs. Petruska?"

  Bryony put her chin in the air. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

  "Meet me in that bathroom in ten."

  "Oh sure, we'll drop the bombshell and just sneak off for a quickie."

  "Sounds good to me."He leaned down for a kiss. "C'mon, let's do it. It's time they knew the truth about Numbnuts and Chubbs."

  As she walked forward, her arm in his, the satiny pearls of his thong rubbed on her pussy lips and started the pulse that would soon render her body a quivering, needy vessel and make it impossible to speak without descending into a breathy whisper. She might have to leave the speeches to Ben.

  Tugging on his sleeve, she pulled him down again to whisper in his ear. "Let's make it five minutes."

  His playful eyebrow wriggled and then arched, pretending to be all sensible. "Anything you say, Mrs. P. I am at your command."

  About time too, Bryony thought with a contented smile.

  The End

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com