Formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
For my girls. You know who you are.
Darkness doesn’t last forever. The light will shine again.
This is my light because of you.
A fire needs three things to survive. Oxygen, heat, and fuel.
What does love need?
1500 hours. Aid response channel five. Ladder 1, Engine 10, Battalion 2 . . . structural fire at the cross of Western and University. 800 block. Smoke in the area.
* * *
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Aubrey
WHY IS it that after you have kids, your sex life goes to shit?
Why? Tell me. I want to know the truth.
Is it lack of time, or just the tiny little humans in your way?
Maybe that’s it.
No. It can’t be that, because if that’s the case, those tiny humans do sleep. Eventually.
If you were to tell me it’s because the passion is gone, I just might punch you in the throat. No lie. I never wanted to think that way.
These thoughts brought me to the one lying beside me, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t the same in many ways, and I blamed his job, and the way it demanded so much of him. Things were different now in a lot of ways. Which was why I said he wasn’t the same.
We weren’t the same.
I’m sure I’m different too.
Life had a way of doing that to you. What you once enjoyed, maybe you didn’t anymore. What you once trusted in, maybe was slipping away from you faster than you cared to admit.
“How long has it been?” I asked, looking over at the clock to see it was nearly eight in the morning. I needed to get to work before ten. With the Christmas rush starting this coming weekend, my presence at the shop were critical.
Right then we didn’t have much time, and I still had to get the kids dressed and ready to go to my sister’s house.
“I don’t know.” Jace, my boyfriend and baby daddy of the last four years, groaned, the sound slightly muffled from the pillow over his face. “I know it’s been too fucking long.”
Forget about how long it had been. I know what you’re thinking now. We’re not married? Shocker, huh?
Actually, not so much in this day and age. It’s actually fairly common. And it wasn’t by my choice. I assure you of that. It was complicated. That was what I was supposed to say, right?
“It’s been three weeks, buddy.” I reached over and slapped my hand against his bare stomach. He made an oomph sound and then chuckled softly. “Three weeks.”
Though he’d made the attempt to remove his shirt when he got home ten minutes ago, he was still wearing jeans. This let me know he was interested in removing the rest, just maybe too tired to do so after working the last twenty-four hours.
“You’re lying.” As he removed the pillow from his face, his brow scrunched as he tried to add up the days mentally. He gave up quickly and frowned. Math was never his strong suit. “What about that time in the shower? Remember, Tuesday?”
“That was three weeks ago.”
Look at us. Two people, kind of naked, in bed, arguing about the last time we had sex, but neither of us making the attempt to actually have sex.
Pathetic.
It was like the time I pulled a muscle vacuuming and told him I couldn’t give him a blow job because my ass hurt. Seemed like a viable excuse to me. We were good at this. Excuses, that is.
With his eyes on mine, his head dipped, snuggling into the space between my shoulder and my own pillow as he rolled to the side. His left hand went to my hip, squeezing lightly, his fingers dancing around the edge of my panties.
There was something about his eyes that got me. Bright blue outlined by dark shards that spun into their depths as if they were sapphire. They had a gritty set to them that made you want to be more. They made you strive to be half as determined as he was at anything.
Despite being determined, he wasn’t making a move to have sex with me. When I looked over at him again, his eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping.
No way. I needed this.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I made him look at me.
He groaned again, his hesitation gone as he opened his eyes and saw my lustful ones. I hated that I had to instigate this.
Whatever happened to the days when I couldn’t keep him off me?
“Jesus.” As he crawled between my legs, his knees created an opening for him. Hovering above me, his lips went to mine, and I went to work on his belt buckle as his hands swept over my body, worshipping my every curve.
Immediately, I was breathing heavily, my cheeks and neck flushed at the thought that we were finally alone, and in bed.
The need was so great, so overwhelming, that it was one of those times when we found ourselves fumbling around, and the only sounds were grunts and groans because we weren’t getting our clothes off fast enough. My T-shirt was gone, and all that remained on him was his jeans, unbuckled, but still on. It was pretty clear by our movements that we were desperate to get the deed done before we were interrupted.
“Fuck . . . ” Jace whispered, a gasping breath against my cheek as his mouth moved along my jaw and to my neck. “Hurry up, baby.” His hips pressed forward, his patience gone. “They’ll be up soon.”
“They?”
Shit. Forgot about the little monsters for a moment.
I didn’t know how I could forget about them, but I had. I blamed that on the lack of sex. It fucks with the rationality and memory.
Let me tell you, it’s easy to forget reality when you’re deprived of something that’s vital. And I do mean vital. For me it was like trying to quit coffee when you’re addicted. By the end of the day, you understand what a ridiculous goal that was and grab that mocha on the way home from work.
Jace knew this, too, when he huffed and started to remove his jeans before I could. Evidently I wasn’t doing a good job. To be fair, I was struggling with that. Damn belt buckles got me every time.
As I sprawled out before him, his blue eyes took in my body, the one he’d claimed so many times as his. I smiled when he brought his left hand to my cheek and pressed forward. He knew me so well. His touch, familiar yet welcoming.
This image of us right now, the one you have of two people frantically trying to get in the few moments of privacy they are allowed as parents, is one you’ll see in most bedrooms where children are raised and both parents work. Alone time is something that is never scheduled but stolen when the crazy little bundles of energy were asleep.
“Stop thinking,” he whispered, sensing my distraction. He came to rest against my chest as he entered me, both of us groaning as he filled me. “That’s it. No more . . . thinking.”
It was right then that I tried to stop and be there in the moment, but it was hard when our overly curious and insane black lab started scratching and barking at the bathroom door where Jace had barricaded him so we could have sex. If he wasn’t locked in another room, he stared at us the entire time. It was unnerving.
Gripping Jace’s shoulders, I looked over his right one at the door to the bathroom to make sure that asshole of a dog stayed put. Just when I thought maybe we might make it before he started in with the barking, he began to howl, and then bark.
Little bastard had the worst timing.
“Damn it,” I muttered, shaking my head and turning into Jace’s chest. The warmth of his body, the smell of his deodorant, consumed me, bringing me back to our moment. We were alone, one of the very few alone times we got, and my boy was moving above me.
Perfection.
The thing was, Jace knew my body like no one else, which meant he knew when I was getting frustrated, too.
My legs fell fr
om around his waist when Smokey’s howling reached an all-time high and he began his obsessive jumping as though he was going to come through the door at any minute . . . or destroy the bathroom. Both of which he’s done before. Many times.
“Don’t you dare stop, Aubrey. Don’t you fucking stop right now.” Jace’s breath caught in his throat as he continued to move in and out of me. His eyes fluttered closed as his hands held me in place. “We need this.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I sighed, and my hands went from his shoulders to his chest, pushing back, only to have him rock against me. He wasn’t having it, though, and shifted his weight, pushing my arms against the mattress, his pace picking up, and goddamn if it didn’t feel so right, so complete.
It was the kind of sex that made you feel all warm and tingling. You know — the kind where even the slightest movement can make you come because it’s literally been so fucking long since you’ve had any stimulation down there. All that aside, I heard Gracie padding down the hallway. Thank goodness Jace had locked the bedroom door.
“The kids are up.”
As much as I wanted him to continue, there were so many problems with this situation.
“I don’t care.” And I was sure he didn’t.
As in most situations, when Jace Kenneth Ryan had something in his head — a mission like this — there was no stopping him.
It wasn’t like I wanted to stop him. It had been just as long for me since we last had sex. I wanted nothing more than to ride this shit out of him, but reality was weighing in on that decision.
That damn dog started in with his howling, waking up Jayden, and then we had both kids at the door, crying and wondering why their parents weren’t around.
Who was next, Child Protective Services?
Don’t even think that, Aubrey!
“Come on baby . . . stay in the moment,” Jace grunted, moving the hand that was at the side down my body, over my ribs and lower until it was at my knee. Gripping my leg tightly, he angled my legs farther apart, his hips moving at a steady pace.
He was determined to finish. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked when he saw my eyes close, the sensations overwhelming me. “You feel so good.”
I did like that. In fact, I loved it.
Just as I was beginning to relax and finally be in the moment, I heard the sounds I hated in times like this.
“Mommy!” our daughter Gracie yelled, pounding her tiny fists against the door. “Open the door!”
Jace didn’t stop — no, instead he sped up his movements as a growl emerged from deep in his throat.
That was until the dog burst through the wooden door of the bathroom and into our room, and began to hump the bedpost, and the kids continued to beat against the door. It wasn’t looking like we were going to be able to finish. At least, it didn’t seem right to me.
“I want to play Candy Crush!” Gracie shouted again.
“Use my phone. It’s on the table,” Jace yelled back, his mouth only parting from mine for a moment before he went back to work.
At that point, I just lay there. My concentration and desire seemed lost – if not from the kids screaming and yelling – but from the dog humping the bedpost by my head.
Who can relax like this?
Most mothers have been here before, and I know you have. Don’t lie. It doesn’t make you any less of a mother to wish for some alone time for yourself.
Yes, we love our children, but when they start impinging on our sex life, it becomes a problem.
That’s a shitty thing for me to say, isn’t it?
It was quiet for about a half a second when Gracie, still outside our door, asked, “What’s that noise?”
Jace stopped for about a half a second and then continued despite the squeaking bed springs. “Nothing. Go play your game.” By the irritation in his voice and his tightened grip, I knew how this was going to end.
“Jace . . . maybe—”
His hands twisted gently in my hair, pulling me into every strong-minded thrust. “Hold on honey . . . please . . . ” he whispered. “I’m so close.”
If only I was that close.
Like I said, I knew how this was going to end. It was going to end with the kids screaming and Jace getting frustrated and storming off. Same shit every day. I could already feel the mood changing.
“I can’t, Daddy!” she pouted. I could almost hear her bottom lip coming out. “I’m stuck on this level.”
Somehow the phone ended up under the locked door with both Jayden and Gracie screaming and both beating against the door.
And there was the moment it changed. He got frustrated.
“Fuck . . . ” Jace sighed, rolling to the side, and I knew the moment was gone. With his arms resting over his stomach, he moved them to his face as he breathed heavily. Scrubbing his hands over his tired eyes, he kicked at the dog, pushing him away from the bedpost. “Knock it off, Smoke.”
I laughed. It was all I could do. This had happened to us so often that now it was hard not to be frustrated.
Jace got up after that. Barely lifting my head from the pillow, I watched his naked ass.
Such a shame.
Perfect. Muscular. Amazing.
When he reached the bathroom door he looked back at me, his hand on the knob, and then sighed. Turning away, he slammed the bathroom door shut behind him as he mumbled something about it being four weeks soon. The door, being broken, sprung open again so he used the laundry hamper to keep it closed.
This wasn’t the first time we had been interrupted, and nor would it be the last. But it was in fact getting frustrating that, because he worked nights, we found basically no time alone.
When I heard the shower turn on and the metal of the shower door rattle, I removed myself from our bed and got dressed.
Straightening out the sheets, I coaxed Smokey out with me and found my two kids pressed against the door, watching me.
The dog jumped over the kids, his nails scraping against the mahogany floors as he scrambled to get to his food dish. I didn’t know why he was in such a hurry. It was empty.
“What were you doing?” Gracie asked, looking around me. Refusing to move, she put her tiny hands on her hips and scrunched her nose. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s in the shower.” Immediately her wide blue eyes searched the room. Whenever a door was closed, it was if she thought for sure she was missing out on something good.
Looking back into the room at the light coming from under the bathroom door, steam rolling from the small crack, I knew I was missing out. Briefly I started to imagine what he must look like in there. Hard body covered in soap, water dripping from every hard-cut line of his sculpted body.
Stop now. You’re only tormenting yourself.
Such a shame.
“I want to take a shower with Daddy,” She announced, trying to remove her shirt by wiggling her body around. At four years old, she still hadn’t mastered taking her clothes off. I didn’t know what it was about her, but she had so many problems getting her shirt off. Pants were easy, but getting her to pull something over her head just wasn’t happening. “Please, I really want to take a shower with him!”
You and me both, kid.
“No. You can’t take showers with him anymore.”
Coed showering ended when Gracie was just over a year old and tried to put a certain body part in her mouth. As you can imagine, Jace was horrified, and outlawed showers with his daughter after that. He wouldn’t even take a shower with Jayden, either.
I couldn’t blame him.
While I was attempting to herd them down the hall, Gracie was quicker than I and went running toward the door, pounding her fists against it. “Daaaaaddy, let me in!”
I heard Jace chuckle, but he said nothing. Part of me was jealous he was in the shower alone. I never got to take showers alone, or baths. Fuck that. Any time my kids heard the water turn on, they came running as though me taking a bath was some kind of family water park adven
ture.
Picking up Jayden, I got the kids into the kitchen and started getting breakfast ready.
We had just finished our toaster waffles when Jace appeared in the hallway.
“Daddy!” Gracie squealed when she saw him come into the kitchen. He kissed the top of her head. I noticed he was dressed in his dark blue Seattle Fire Department sweatshirt, the one he wore to and from the firehouse. That could only mean one thing: he’d gotten called in on his day off.
“Morning, sweetie,” he said, winking in my direction and then reaching for Jayden in his high chair. The boy was frantically trying to remove himself to get to his hero.
There was nothing that excited our little boy more than his daddy. Nothing. Sure, I fed him, bathed, changed, and cuddled him, but I had nothing on the man who was the epitome of perfection in his eyes. The first time Jayden saw Jace in his bunker gear ready to go to a fire, you would have thought he’d seen a superhero.
With our just over two-years-old son securely in his arms, Jace moved closer to me. “I picked up an extra shift today.” He smiled gently, as if I should know by his sweatshirt he had been called in.
“But you just came off a twenty-four-hour shift.” Jace was a firefighter and usually worked twenty-four-hour shifts with forty-eight hours off, then another twenty-four-hour shift and ninety-six hours off. Lately, though, he’d been volunteering for overtime and Special Teams on the fireboat down at the pier.
Jace shrugged, holding Jayden over his shoulders with one arm and pouring black coffee with the other into his stainless steel coffee mug. “I know.” He moved to sit at the table, both kids crawling on him now.
I didn’t mind the extra money the overtime brought with it, even though we had separate accounts, but it was the simple fact that he was never here. And when he wasn’t working, he was out with the boys, playing hockey or softball. At times I just wanted him to be home for more than a day.
I didn’t push the issue of overtime. To me it was an argument we didn’t need to have, because if you knew Jace, you understood if you pushed him into an argument, he’d shut down.
Something Worth Saving Page 1