by Maddie James
Her stomach flipped, and tingles which had begun there rippled outward. A sure sign of desire.
Geoff was turning her on.
Geoff Arrowood, her husband.
“I…I don’t know.”
“That’s not an outright rejection. Perhaps we’re making progress.”
Progress?
Lust was progress?
Geoff bent his head, and touched her lips with his briefly. “I want to kiss you. Really kiss you.”
“You’ll behave yourself with your parents?”
“If you’ll kiss me for two minutes I promise to behave myself with them.”
“Two minutes?” That sounded way too long to Cheris.
Geoff tapped a finger on her back. “A two minute kiss, and a two week reprieve on the divorce. Will you accept those terms?”
“You think you can change my mind in two weeks?”
“Is it a deal?”
“No sex,” Cheris countered.
“No sex unless you, fully sober, consent,” Geoff amended.
“I still don’t trust you.”
“You should. I’m trustworthy.”
“The marriage license says otherwise.”
“What a sad culture we live in that marrying a gal before you bed her mars one’s character.”
“The honorable man would have dropped me off at home instead of spending the night with me in Serenity.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Geoff looked at his watch and pushed a button on it until it beeped. “I’ll set my watch for two minutes. We’ll kiss until the alarm sounds, and when I stop, that will prove you can trust me.”
Cheris had her doubts.
“Shall I get you a stick so you can beat me off if you need to?” Geoff glanced around the hallway. Finding nothing suitable, he walked into a small sitting room under the stairs.
Cheris followed him.
“Aha.” He turned to her and picked up an umbrella which must have been propped inside the doorway. “You can do some serious damage to me with this.”
“We better just go back out there. You killed the mood with all of this negotiating and umbrella-waving.”
Geoff grinned as he placed the umbrella in her hand. “I dare you.”
“I don’t take dares.” Recognizing their words from the art gala, she gasped and popped her hand over her mouth. The umbrella clattered to the floor.
“Aha. Not all of Friday night has been forgotten then.”
With a constricted throat, she managed to ask, “How many dares did I take?”
“You took two, and gave one.”
“The first was the punch.”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“I don’t remember much after that. Do I want to know the other two?”
Geoff stepped closer to her. “The second was you double dog daring us to get married.”
“Are these in chronological order?”
“Yes.”
“Then I know I don’t want to know the other one.”
Smoothing a strand of hair which had escaped from her clip, he gazed down at her. “You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of about Friday night.”
“I found my underwear on the lampshade.”
“Even at your most uninhibited, your elegance took my breath away.”
“What’s elegant about a double dog dare?”
“You.” He raised his arm to look at the watch on his wrist. Pressing a small button on its side, he then linked his fingers through hers and stepped in front of her now, closer.
Cheris’ heart pumped hard against her ribs. Lowering his head, Geoff’s lips touched her cheek, a light brush on the skin, to her ear.
“I’d love to kiss you, but I’ve just washed my hair.” Even as she whispered the words, she couldn’t place what actress had said them in which movie. She’d bet it was black and white though. Some brassy actress for sure.
Geoff’s mouth was at her neck now. He trailed soft kisses down to her shoulder moving aside her collar to expose the skin. His leisure path back up her neck soothed her nerves, comforted her. Both of her hands were free now, and with one she grasped the back of his shirt, feeling his flesh underneath, learning the texture of this man, her husband, enjoying touching him, reveling in his tasting her. His lips were nearly to hers now, and she tilted her face enough so that her mouth met his, and—
Wow.
Twenty minutes later they joined the trio outside. Cheris was too embarrassed to make eye contact. She was sure they all knew what she and Geoff had been doing.
And it wasn’t visiting the powder room.
It had also lasted much longer than the allotted two minutes though when the alarm had sounded Geoff had instantly ended the kiss. When she pulled him back to her, he resisted spouted some tripe about his trustworthiness being at stake.
“No, it’s not,” Cheris insisted. “I trust you now. You stopped when the alarm sounded.”
“Just so we’re clear about that.” Geoff leaned forward pressing his mouth to hers.
Now he held her chair for her as she sat down. Ever the gentleman, at least in front of his parents, she thought darkly. Thankfully no one mentioned the span of time they’d been in the house though when Cheris found the courage to look at their faces, she saw what she suspected.
They knew she’d been making out with Geoff, and they all looked pleased as punch about it.
Janie grinned like an idiot. Cheris thought about kicking her but was afraid somebody might see through the glass-topped table.
Geoff sat down and looked squarely at his parents. “I apologize, Mom, Dad. Certainly if you want to postpone your trip, it’s fine with me.”
Jaws dropped all around the table. Cheris bit her lip to keep from snickering. From his family’s reaction, Cheris could tell his words had been unexpected. Three sets of eyes then settled on her.
What?
This wasn’t her doing. She didn’t make him come out here and announce his apology. She just wanted him to be a little more understanding about his parents’ reason for wanting to stick around.
Somehow, Cheris made it through the rest of the lunch without incident. When she began making her excuses to leave, it was Geoff who stood to take her home. Of course, it was expected that he would go home with his wife, she determined, so she didn’t complain.
Geoff drove her to the church to retrieve her car which started without any problem—more proof that it had been sabotaged in the first place. To her surprise, Geoff didn’t ask to follow her home, but said he had some things to take care of.
“Can I come by later?” He leaned against the hood of a silver SUV she assumed was his since it had a Georgia plate. The sun reflected off the lenses of his glasses making it hard to read his thoughts.
Cheris, already seated in her Prius, shrugged assuming a nonchalant expression. What the heck did she care what his unnamed business was about?
She was only his wife. Not voluntarily, that she remembered anyway, but
Whatever.
He made no move toward her open window.
I guess no goodbye kiss for the wife.
Or was he waiting for an invitation? Him and his unnamed business.
Cheris shifted into reverse. “See you later then,” she replied shortly as she pulled out of the space.
Not that I really care if he wanted to kiss me or not.
Yeah, right.
You again.
That’s right. Me again. You wanted him to kiss you and you know it.
Not if he doesn’t even want to tell me what he’s doing this afternoon.
Cheris glared at her reflection in the rearview mirror at the red light on Oak Street.
I have got to stop having conversations with myself. It’s a sign of insanity.
When she arrived at her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and stripped her clothes on the way to the bedroom. Finding an ancient pair of jeans which actually had holes in them she had put there through wear and tear, she slid them on, along w
ith a Hip Granny T-shirt sporting the cartoon logo of Annie on it. She curled up on the couch and punched the remote of the television.
Oh, goody. An Audrey Hepburn double feature.
Who cares if she had seen both movies multiple times?
She could get lost in the world of happily ever after resolved in an hour and a half.
At the end of Roman Holiday, Cheris donned shorts, laced up her tennis shoes and headed to the exercise room in the apartment clubhouse to work out. She’d found at this time of day it was empty so she could exercise without obnoxious music blaring over the speakers or men in too-small Speedos running on the treadmill beside her.
She timed the treadmill for the forty minute course, and as she ran she thought of Geoff, the cute way he adjusted his glasses on his nose, his sweet and unhurried way of kissing her, and the fact that he didn’t seem to like her hair up as he had unclipped her barrette last night out on the porch and again this afternoon in his parents’ sitting room. She hadn’t realized she didn’t have it until the breeze had blown her hair in her face out on the patio, and Janie had smirked at her.
When the treadmill beeped signaling she’d completed the work out, she pressed the power button, stepped off of the machine, and headed back home to shower.
Soon she was washed and stood at her dresser wondering what to wear. It was nearly six, and she hadn’t heard from Geoff.
When he had asked to come by, she’d given him a noncommittal answer. Who knew whether he would or not?
Should she call him?
Did she want to see him again today?
Shrugging, she picked up her jeans from the floor, slipped them on and grabbed a cotton camisole from her drawer. After she cooled off a bit more she’d put on something else.
The doorbell rang.
Hmm.
When Cheris opened the door, Geoff stood on her front porch, hands in his pockets smiling at her.
“Hi. I was just thinking about calling you.” She stepped back and motioned him inside.
He didn’t move from his spot. “Calling me what?”
“On the telephone, Smarty. Aren’t you coming in?”
“I was hoping you’d go out with me.”
Cheris looked down at the camisole and ragged blue jeans. “Let me change.”
“No.” Geoff reached forward and caught her hand. “You’re perfect. Grab your shoes and keys. That’s all you need.”
She gestured to her top. “This is underwear. I can’t go out in underwear.”
“We’ll be in a dark theater. No one will see you.”
“We’re going to the movies? Ugh. All I’ve done this afternoon is watch movies. I need a break from the silver screen. And I am not wearing a camisole to go out with you.”
Geoff craned his neck and his gaze roved over her. “It’s covering all the important parts. Mostly. I have no problem with you wearing it.”
Cheris shook off his grip and crossed her arms to cover herself. “It doesn’t matter because I don’t want to see a movie.”
“No movies then. Have you eaten dinner?”
Her stomach growled in response. Geoff’s eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled.
“That sounded like a no.”
Huffing, Cheris marched back to her bedroom and grabbed a polo shirt out of her dresser drawer. On the way back toward the living room, she pulled it over her head. If he didn’t care what she looked like with wet hair and no make-up, then neither did she. But she was going to wear a shirt, by God.
In moments they settled in the SUV.
Cheris noted the floorboard void of even a gas receipt. “I suppose this is yours.”
Geoff cranked the engine and shifted gears. “Yes.”
“It looks brand new.” She glanced in the back seat. It was as immaculate as the front.
“I’ve had it about a year.” He maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the main thoroughfare. Within minutes they were parked in front of El Toro, a popular Mexican restaurant in town.
She studied the building before turning to him. Did he know this was her favorite place to eat?
“We can go inside, or I can get it to go. Your choice.”
“To go where?”
“A surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one. So, want to get take out?”
“No. Let’s just eat here. Maybe I can worm the surprise out of you before we get there.”
****
Cheris stood at the doorway of the planetarium, her eyes following the curves of the high circular ceiling.
“What are we doing?”
“Having fun. Are you having fun yet?”
“Are we allowed to be here?” No one else was around. In fact, Cheris hadn’t seen anyone else in the math and science building on the college campus.
They stood inside the carpeted room. Five rows of theater seats lined its perimeter.
“Of course, we’re allowed. I’m faculty now at Smithson. Adjunct, but it still counts.”
“I thought you were the dynamic professor at the museum.” Cheris purposely chose the adjective his mother had used last night on the stairs.
Geoff arched an eyebrow at her. “She meant didactic, and the college owns the museum and planetarium. This,” he held his arms wide. “was one of the deal makers.”
He walked toward a large metal cylinder on a recessed stage in the middle of the room. “Have a seat. The best ones are there.” He pointed to the east side of the room. “Second or third row in the center.”
“Where are you sitting?”
“I’m sitting in the captain’s chair.” He disappeared behind a partition surrounding the cylinder.
“You’re a nerd.”
“Takes one to know one, Commander Gensa.” His voice echoed off the blank walls.
Shoot. She must have told him she’d donned the female starship commander’s costume from a popular Sci-Fi movie for the Hip Granny franchise party in February.
“Is there anything I didn’t tell you Friday night?” Cheris chose a seat in the second row and sat down. The back reclined slightly with her weight. Hmm. Comfy.
“You didn’t tell me, but there’s a framed photograph of you and a Sleechberg warrior in your apartment.”
Oh.
The stark white walls began to soften to pearl gray and darker to mauve. A city skyline appeared near the bottom of the dome. The ceiling transformed into the twilight sky as a ghost of the moon rose from the seam of the wall.
Oh, cool.
Stars dotted the ever darkening sky, and Cheris sighed at the beauty of the sight.
Yeah, having a toy like this would definitely be a deal maker for a job.
“This is the sky for the coordinates of Culsbaeir.”
“When?”
“One fifteen tomorrow morning.”
Cheris shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen this many stars here even in the middle of the night.”
“This is what you would see if we didn’t have light pollution.”
“Light pollution?”
“Artificial lights which prohibit stargazing. Street and building lights. Lit billboards. Headlights on cars.” The ceiling lightened and many of the stars disappeared. “This is with Culsbaeir’s lights. See the difference?”
“Wow.”
The expanse lightened further becoming hazy. “Here’s the view in New York City. In metropolitan areas air pollution inhibits viewing as well. If you can even see the sky with all of the buildings in the way.”
“So the best place to star gaze would be a rural area,” Cheris surmised.
“Even better a rural state with a sparse population.”
“Or a country with no electricity.”
“Not too many of those anymore.” The night became dark once again, and the twinkling lights moved across the ceiling for a moment before coming to a rest. “Here’s what the sky looked like on the night of your birth.”
&
nbsp; “I’m sure that wasn’t framed in my apartment.”
“No. But you had to show your driver’s license at the courthouse, and I have a photographic memory.”
Cheris shifted on the soft cushion. She wondered if anyone ever fell asleep in here. “Yeah? What’s my license plate number?” She smiled when she said it remembering the hotel clerk’s comments about it.
Geoff was silent for a moment before he rattled it off to her. Hmm. He must have memorized it since Friday night.
“What’s on the front of my refrigerator?”
“A small dry erase board with my hotel phone number on it, a pen, a recipe for spinach salad with strawberry dressing, four magnets, and a drawing done by my sister.”
Impressive.
“What’s the recipe?”
“Frozen strawberries, which you crossed out, and wrote ‘fresh’, Red wine vinegar, Splenda, Salt, chopped pecans. Drizzle over spinach, chopped red onion, apple cut into pieces, English cucumber. Do you want measurements too?”
“No. What’s on the end table next to my Commander Gensa picture?”
“A jar filled with buttons, a box of tissue, and a biography on the Fitzgeralds.”
A bolt of light streaked across the artificial sky. “What was that?”
“What?”
“It looked like a shooting star.”
“Oh. Yeah. A meteor. They show up every once in a while to keep things interesting. Here and in the nighttime sky, too.”
The origin of his voice had changed. He must have moved. Cheris glanced toward the center of the room but didn’t see him.
“See that?”
A red dot appeared on the ceiling and moved slowly in a circle. “That’s the constellation Lyra.” The dot stopped next to a star, and Cheris decided he had a laser pointer. “This is Vega, one of the brighter stars in the sky. About the third week of April you can see a pretty impressive shower when Earth plows through the tail of the Comet Thatcher.”
“What’s that really bright one there? A planet?”
He moved the pointer. “Here?”
“Yeah.”
“Not a planet. That’s Sirius. The dog star, and our nearest star neighbor. It’s actually a binary star system. It’s so bright because of its proximity to us and its luminosity.”
“Hmm.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start lecturing.”