by Mia Malone
“Baby?” he murmured.
I slowly flipped another page and touched the beautiful picture showing a man and a woman having sex. Doggystyle.
“I didn’t mean to –” He sounded nervous, but I was still too stunned to say anything, and he sighed. “I just thought that, you know? In case we got old and stuffy and forgot what it should be like, then we could... shit.”
The last part was probably since a tear leaked out of my left eye and rolled slowly down my cheek.
“I love it,” I whispered.
I meant that I loved him because I did.
How could I not love him?
“Nina,” he murmured, and I put the book carefully on the nightstand.
“Thank you,” I said. “God, I love it so much.”
“Christ, you scared me there for a second,” he muttered and pulled me into his arms.
“Sorry,” I said against his neck. “It was such a surprise. It’s beautiful.”
“We'll take a look in it tonight,” he promised and twisted his head around to put his mouth by my ear. “Inspiration,” he breathed out, and a shiver went through my gut to settle between my legs.
“Yeah,” I breathed out. Then a thought struck me, and I raised my head so quickly he had to rear back. “My girls are coming today.”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “And our parents. My kids. Layla and Teddy. Len. Tons of people showing up today.”
I stared at him.
“What am I going to tell them?”
“About what?”
“When they ask what I got from you!” I wailed.
He started laughing, and I frowned at him.
“Babe,” he said. “They’ve probably already guessed that we’re... doing it.”
He had a point, and my daughters were mostly grownups, so they’d just have to handle the fact that their mother got romantic and probably quite valuable porn from her lover for her birthday.
After a slow walk around the neighborhood with Pippin, we made a late breakfast and ate it in silence, both reading the newspaper. I was about to start clearing the plates away while Matthias went to get the food we'd ordered when several people hinted that since my birthday was on a Saturday, they would stop by to congratulate me.
I had to swallow a few times when I added up everyone I expected to come because, in the past, my birthdays had barely been noticeable, except for the song I got from the girls in the morning.
Then the doorbell suddenly rang, and I looked at the kitchen watch in surprise. It was eleven o'clock, and I'd specifically told everyone to come when they felt like it but absolutely not before one.
I had not told my ex-husband anything, however, mostly since I hadn't talked to him in a very long time. We weren't unfriendly or had any problems communicating.
We just didn’t have anything to say.
So, I hadn't shared my plans for my birthday, and there he was, standing on my doorstep, mumbling something about wishing me a happy day, and could he come in for a minute?
“Sure,” I said, rolled my eyes at Matthias, who got up and extended a hand, which Dave shook. “Is the back deck okay?” I asked, got a nod from Dave, and moved us out there with the hope that nothing was wrong.
Dave talked a little about the girls, and I answered his questions, and then he went silent.
“Why are you really here, Dave?” I asked. “I’m grateful for the birthday wishes, but...”
“I’m selling the house. A real estate agent will put it on the market later today, actually.”
Well, it was his house, so he was at liberty to do that without informing me.
“And I’m moving to Kentucky.”
“Okay,” I said when he looked at me as if he expected me to say something.
That had been a bit of a surprise, I had to admit. I hadn’t ever heard him express a desire to relocate to the bluegrass state, but again, it was his choice to make without my input.
“I’ve met someone,” he said and looked at me under his brow. “She wants to move back to Russel Springs.”
He said that as if this was a location I should be familiar with, but since I’d never heard of the place in my life, I smiled blandly, and murmured, “I’m happy for you.”
“Really?”
Uh, yeah? I couldn't see myself living in small-town Kentucky, but that didn't mean a lot of other people wouldn't be happy there, and if one of them was my ex, why would I have any objections?
“Yes, Dave,” I said. “We don't love each other anymore, and our marriage is over, but you're a nice guy. You deserve to be happy.”
“She’s younger.”
Of course, she was.
“But very mature for her age,” he added quickly.
Dear lord, that meant she was...
“Monica is thirty-five.”
Yes. She was a kid, at least compared to Dave, who was three years older than me, which meant he was twenty years older than his Kentucky-love.
“Did you tell the girls?” I asked.
“I thought you might want to –”
Hell, no. I had communicated every no, every unpleasant rule, and every piece of sad news to our girls all through our marriage, but this? No way.
“No. Absolutely not,” I said firmly. “Your move, your communication.”
“Okay. I'll call the girls on my way back home.”
“Please do that,” I said. “When something like this hits the neighborhood gossip-mill, it will spread like wildfire, and they should hear it from you.”
“I’ll call them,” he said. “Promise.”
We talked a few more minutes, but then he left. I got the feeling he was relieved to go, or perhaps I projected my own feelings of relief.
I shared the news with Matthias, who blinked a few times in surprise and shared that he didn't know what to say. I told him that I didn't know what to say either, and we should get cracking on sorting out the food and drinks.
The girls had spent the night with my parents on the island, and they brought Jacob. I got earrings from the girls, Chablis from Jacob and a painting from my parents.
“Jesus,” Matthias said and stared at the big seascape. “Holy fucking shit.”
“Language,” I breathed out through a throat that felt a little too tight.
It was by far the best piece of art my father had ever made.
“Figured if you put that on the wall, you would remember to come and visit us from time to time,” Dad said gruffly.
“Dad,” I murmured and walked into his arms. “God, it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he said with satisfaction. “I’m happy with how it turned out.”
“We’ll put in an alarm,” Matthias said.
What?
“I've told you that for weeks now,” Luke said from the door but froze when he saw the painting. “Holy fu –”
“Language,” Mrs. Moretti cut him off and strutted into the room as if she was the Queen of England and we were her minons. “That is a beautiful painting,” she said and nodded. “I wouldn’t mind having something like that on my wall.”
“Mom,” Luke muttered. “It’s one of Nina’s father’s paintings.”
“I guessed that.”
“He’s Cornelius Ama –”
“I know who he is,” she snapped, and turned to my father. “I’ve admired your work for years. Do you like olives?”
She held out a plastic contained and wiggled it a little.
“I love olives,” my father said without missing a beat. “Marinated?”
“Of course.”
They walked off toward the kitchen where Mom was busy slicing up bread, and ten seconds later, loud laughter echoed.
“I'll just...” Jacob said, walked away, and then there was more laughter.
“Okay,” I said and glanced at the painting. “We should probably get an alarm system.”
“How much is grandpa’s painting worth?” Meghan asked curiously.
“He could probably sell that one
for a million or more.”
Meggie and Ashley turned to stare at Matthias, and I started laughing.
“Probably more,” I agreed and put my arms around my daughter’s shoulders. “But the real value is that he made it for me because he missed me.”
“I know,” Meggie breathed out. “But still.”
“Happy B, Nina,” Luke rumbled. “Glad I went with practical instead of artsy.”
I stared at the small pruner he held out toward me and started laughing.
The day passed by in a happy blur of people coming and going, and since everyone was stunned by Dad’s present, they all forgot to ask what Matthias had given me.
Until Len walked in, handed me a giftwrapped present, and asked what I got from Matty.
He asked this with a smirk, so he knew exactly what I had upstairs.
“Oh,” Mom said,” Yes! What did you get?”
“A book,” I murmured.
Len started laughing, and I saw Luke’s shoulders shake a little, but then Layla and Teddy walked in, followed by their daughters, which distracted everyone. Simon and Suzie were next to show up, and it made me really happy to see how they seemed to have connected with both my daughters and Layla's. Simon clearly held his own in the group of loud and, it appeared, opinionated girls.
“So,” Mom said, and I knew what was coming, so I braced. “What did you get from Matty?”
“Mom,” I whispered. “I can show you later.”
“Show what?” Dad asked, and I knew there was no escaping it.
“I’ll get it,” I said meekly.
There was a long and stunned silence when I put the book on the table, and then Layla giggled.
“Dad, for fuck’s sake,” Simon muttered, and Matthias started laughing.
“I liked the Matthias who was angry on your behalf,” Dad said slowly. “The Matthias who gives you pornography?” He winked at me. “I like him even better.”
“It isn’t –”
“It is,” Len said. “Expensive, but still porn.”
“It really is,” Layla said and opened the book. “Oh, Nina. It’s beautiful.”
Our eyes met, and I saw that she understood exactly how I'd felt when he gave it to me.
“I wrote an essay about that book last year,” Ashley said and started turning the pages. “Most of it is actually about the theory and philosophy of love.”
My brows went up as I listened to my oldest daughter calmly explain how it wasn’t pornography at all, and felt Matthias wrap his arm around my waist.
“Interesting,” he murmured into my ear. “And we’ll find an English version so we can read it.” He slid his hand over my hip and added, “But it’s still porn, baby.”
I started laughing and tried to cover it with a cough.
“How about some dessert?” I croaked out and moved toward the kitchen.
“He's so sweet,” Layla said quietly while we brought out boxes full of cupcakes.
“I love him so much,” I told her.
“Of course, you do,” she said.
There was a flash of something in her eyes that looked like sadness, but it was gone so quickly I must have imagined it, and then she smiled happily.
“Cupcakes, and then I’ll start shuffling people out of here.”
“Yeah,” I said with a brow wiggle. “That’d be good, actually.”
***
When I walked into the bedroom, there was soft music playing. Matthias had lit scented candles and put a fresh sheet on the bed.
“Come here,” he murmured. “Want you naked.”
We got undressed slowly, and then he nudged me toward the bed.
“Lie down on your belly.”
Then he started stroking my skin gently, using only his fingertips, sliding them over my hips and along my spine. He caressed my neck and then down my spine again and over my behind, still just touching me softly.
He moved slowly down my legs, sometimes trailing his hands with his mouth, and when he’d worked his way up to my hips again, my pulse was beating heavily, and I turned my head a little to look at him.
“Matthias,” I breathed out.
“Let me,” he rumbled. “I want to make you feel good, baby.”
I was feeling pretty amazing already but relaxed into the bed when he continued to massage me, alternating between pressing down and skimming his fingertips gently.
After a while, he was all I could think about, all I could feel, and I moved my legs apart just a little to ease the pressure that has built there.
“You want me to take you,” he murmured and straddled my legs.
His hard cock was sliding over me, and I wanted to widen my thighs even further so he'd slide inside, but I couldn't move and made a low, frustrated sound.
“Slow and easy, Nina,” he said. “We're not in a hurry, and I want to make sure you are ready.”
Was he insane? If I were any readier, I’d explode.
He leaned forward, and I felt the hair on his chest scrape over my back when he covered me with his body.
“Want to slide inside that heat,” he murmured.
“Now,” I moaned softly.
He moved to the side and said, “Come here, baby. On my lap.”
I lowered myself onto him and exhaled hoarsely as he slowly filled me.
“Eyes on me,” he said quietly. “Put your legs around me.”
I moved one leg and then the other until I'd crossed my ankles behind his back. His hands pressed me down, and when I wanted to move, he held me still.
“Just breathe,” he rumbled and repeated, “Eyes on me.”
I looked into his calm blue eyes, and somehow, we breathed together. He was hard inside me, and then he started rocking me softly. And slowly, slowly, it began to build again.
We barely moved, but every gentle push by his hands made my clit press into him, and his cock move slightly inside me. Our breaths were slow, but they grew heavier as he kept rocking us lazily, and I started to moan quietly with every exhale.
Something was burning inside me, around me, and all I could see was his eyes. He was breathing hoarsely with the sounds I made, and it kept building until I thought I’d scream.
“Nina,” he rasped out. “So good.”
It blasted through me in one long, hard wave after the other, and they kept coming, stronger and stronger. I shook with the orgasm, and it still kept happening until it was almost more than I could take. He clenched his jaws briefly, and his face grew taut as his hands tightened around my hips.
“Yeah,” he grunted and exhaled on a long, loud groan which sent another wave of pleasure through me.
His cock jerked inside me as he ground out another loud cry, and then another.
When my body finally relaxed, I was breathless, but still looking into his eyes.
“Matthias,” I whispered.
“Good?”
“Yes,” I answered because it had been, and I was.
His hands moved up from my hips to push my head down toward his.
“I guess giving you porn for your birthday was an excellent idea,” he mumbled against my lips, and when I smiled, he kissed me.
Chapter Eighteen
Start over
Nina
I was in Denver.
I'd been in Colorado before and had walked through Denver International Airport with a smile on my face many times because we'd been on our way to the mountains. We'd been giddy and happy, full of anticipation of the week we'd have in Beaver Creek or Breck. How we'd ski the Montezuma bowl in A-Basin and eat at the Mint down in Silverthorne after that.
Denver had always seemed like a lovely city, but that had been an observation by a happy mind from the passenger seat in a car.
Now I hated the goddamned town.
With a vengeance.
There were traffic jams everywhere, and parking was godawful, and the restaurants were... Lonely.
“Fuck it,” I snapped, and threw my take-out bag on the table.
; The girl grinning perkily at me from the side of the paper bag seemed to mock my lonesome dinner in the hotel room, and I scowled at her. When I'd eaten my lukewarm burger and fries, I flicked through the channels on the TV and wondered if I should try to find a movie to watch. Then I brought out my iPad instead, hoping that I'd get excited about the last book in the series about Colorado hot-guys I'd started a while back.
I ended up scowling at that too.
“My buddy is way cooler than you,” I shared sourly with the hero in the book. “He’s also a police officer, but he’s got more muscles, more hair, and he knows how to make Risotto.”
The hero did not respond, and I’d stared at the same page for too long, so the screen went black.
“Crap,” I muttered, glaring accusingly at the iPad, although my anger was mostly since it was seriously pathetic to have a one-sided conversation with a fictional character.
As I turned to stare out the window, I slowly reached for my phone.
I couldn't remember having ever missed Dave this way when I went on business trips. The first years, it had been because I was young and traveling for business had made me feel grown-up and important. Then it had been a valid break from the never-ending and around the clock job of being a mother. I loved my girls more than anything, but dear Lord, how they had exhausted me. When they got older, and the work-trips had lost their allure, I still hadn't missed Dave.
And I hadn’t felt lonely in the way I did now.
I missed my friends. I hadn't spent time with Layla in a while, but when I got back, I would not accept her vague excuses about being busy at the non-profit where she volunteered. I wanted to spend a weekend on the island with my parents and Jacob and toss a ball with Pippin in the park. Have coffee with Mrs. Moretti, Prosecco with Peggy, and try to cajole Luke into helping me prop up the fence toward the neighbor's house so I didn't have to worry it might fall down.
And... I looked at my phone for a beat and wondered with a sigh if it was weird to talk every day, but it wasn't just me calling, so I tapped on Matthias' name and waited for him to pick up.
“Baby,” he murmured, and I smiled.
“I hate this town,” I said as a greeting.
“I know,” he said reassuringly. “Everyone knows Denver is fucking awful.”