Quantum Boxed Set TAME: Books 1-3
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“Can we do that?”
“Sure.” I grab my Dodgers ball cap from the backseat and put it on. “I’ll just send Seth a text to tell him we’re getting out.” We find a place to park and manage to get onto the beach without anyone noticing us. Natalie has her long, distinctive dark hair up in a bun that makes her look much younger than her twenty-three years. I’m feeling brave and daring today, so after a long walk on the beach with her and Fluff, who had a nice nap in the backseat while we were on the road, I lead her to a beachfront café, where we sit outside and enjoy the warm sunshine, drinks and an appetizer with a minimum amount of fuss from the waitstaff.
Josh and Seth are at a nearby table, keeping an eye on things. They are close enough to get involved if need be but far enough away to give us some privacy.
“This was a really nice day,” she says when we’re heading back toward the city.
“It was good to get out and get some air.” I’m driving because I want her to take a nap on the way home. I worry about her becoming overtired after being so sick. She truly scared the hell out of me with the way she went from fine to not fine in the matter of an hour and then spent two days in and out of it.
At one point, her fever had registered at one hundred and three. I was awake for two days keeping an eye on her and caring for her. I’ve never been so happy to see my mother as I was when she came to the hotel to check on us the second day. I hadn’t wanted to expose her to the flu, but she’d cried nonsense and spent half a day with me, keeping me company as I worried obsessively about Natalie.
The doctor had to tell me more than once that it was “just” the flu, and I had to be talked out of taking her to the ER on two different occasions. Thank God she’d rallied and was now almost fully recovered, but I won’t soon forget the fright of her illness or the loneliness of having her close by but unavailable. I hated that almost as much as I hated that she was sick in the first place.
I glance over to check on her and see that she’s asleep with Fluff rolled up in a ball on her lap. The two of them are so damned cute together, even if one of them likes to bite me.
I can’t wait for tonight, to take Natalie to the club and to introduce her to yet another facet of my life. I feel confident that she’s ready, that we’ve talked it all through and she’s prepared for what to expect. When I get home, I’ll text the others and let them know I’m bringing her by. They’ll appreciate the heads-up, and I fully expect them to be thrilled to welcome her.
Hayden, in particular, has expressed concern about me marrying someone outside our lifestyle, as that had been such a spectacular failure the last time around. That makes me think of Valerie, and I wonder if she has gotten the offer we arranged—to appear on a reality TV show about a fishing boat in Alaska.
Rather than confronting her and making her day with my rage over what she tried to do to Nat and me, Hayden suggested this route, and I have to admit it’s fucking brilliant. I smile to myself when I picture her in an environment she will find so far beneath her, but I’ve made sure it’s the only offer she’ll get for the immediate future.
She’ll have no choice but to take it, which will get her out of town and out of my hair for the time being. Our manager, Danielle, who took on Val only because I asked her to when we were married, was happy to facilitate something as far beneath Valerie’s self-determined standards as she could find.
When Danielle came back to us with the Alaskan fishing boat show, Hayden and I laughed our asses off and told her to go for it. Make it happen.
I’m fairly confident Valerie will have no doubt how she ended up in Alaska. She might blame me until the cows come home, but it isn’t my fault that she has no other options. Her reputation as a self-aggrandizing prima donna makes it so no one wants to work with her. That’s on her. The affair she had with our director at the end of our marriage won her no friends either, especially when it came to light that she broke up the director’s marriage to exact her revenge on me.
I haven’t forgotten the one ace she still holds in her hand—her knowledge of my sexual preferences. The only reason I’d ever care if that got out is because it might embarrass my parents. Not to mention the potential impact on my career. But that’s a much lesser concern. I don’t even want to think about my parents catching wind of my preference. The thought of that makes me feel like I’m getting the flu.
Natalie is still asleep when we arrive at home, so I pick up her and the wildebeest and carry them inside, laying Nat on our bed and tucking her in for a while. We’ve got plenty of time. The club doesn’t really get busy until after ten anyway.
I take advantage of the free time to play with some thoughts on the big idea I had the other day. Before it goes much further, though, I need to talk to Natalie about it because the story that’s running around in my head is hers—and ours. Ever since the idea came to me, it’s almost all I can think about. I’ve learned to trust my gut in this business. If a project gives me the chills, chances are it will resonate with audiences, too. Jeremy’s story in Camouflage is a recent example of my instincts paying off in a big way. Not only is the film a huge critical and financial success, it’s racking up the awards, too.
I reach for my phone to call Hayden. I want his take. If he thinks it’s an awful idea, then there’s no point in pursuing it with Natalie.
“What’s up?” he asks when he takes the call.
“This and that. Did you get my text?”
“Yep. So are you doing a scene tonight?”
“No, nothing like that. We’re taking baby steps, but so far, so good. She’s curious about the club, so I figure I’d bring her by to get a feel for it.”
“I gotta say… I didn’t see that coming. In light of everything… From her past and all.”
“She’s got this inner strength that astounds me, and a determination not to let her past dictate her future.”
“I know I’ve been kind of a douche about her and you and everything, but I hope you know how happy I am for you.”
“Thanks, man.”
“And despite how it might’ve appeared on occasion, I like her and I like her for you, even more so now that you’re not hiding a big part of who you are from her.”
“I like her for me, too,” I say with a low laugh.
“I bet you do.”
“So listen, I’ve been thinking about something that I want to run by you.”
“Is it a title for the film that defies naming?”
“I wish.”
“So do I,” he says with a sigh.
“If it’s any consolation, the early cut is amazing.”
“I’m happy with it, too. I just wish we could name the fucker.”
“We will.”
“What’s the other thing you’re thinking about?”
“Natalie’s story.”
“What about it?”
“It’s a powerful story that hits all the right notes.”
“You’re not seriously considering…”
“Not seriously. Yet. So far, it’s just an idea.”
“What does she have to say about it?”
“She’s next on my list. If you think the idea is ridiculous, then there’s no point in bringing it up with her.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“Really?”
“It’s an amazing story, Flynn. Why do you think you’ve got photographers camped outside every building you’re known to frequent? They want a glimpse of it. People are captivated.”
Captivated. That’s the word I used to describe my feelings the day I met her, and nothing has changed since then. “That would make for a good title.”
“Great, so you’ve got a title for a film we’re not even making yet, but for the one that’s almost done, you’ve got nothing?”
Laughing at his wry comment, I experience profound relief at being back on familiar ground with my closest friend and business partner after a rough few weeks. “I’m working on it. I swear.”
“Yeah,
yeah. Where have I heard that before?”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll be there. Cresley is in town. She’s coming by.”
“Oh great. I want Natalie to meet her. See you there.”
“Later.”
While I wait for Natalie to wake up, I prepare a light dinner of salad and pasta, feed Fluff and go out with her into the backyard so she can pee. I stare into the pool, which glows from within by lights on a timer, thinking about how Natalie’s story might be told in a film.
Would I be violating her further by even suggesting it? That’s my greatest fear. Along with my greatest fear goes my greatest motivation—to tell the rest of the world about the strong, resilient woman I had the good sense and even greater fortune to marry.
“There you are,” she says when she comes out to join us.
Fluff bounds over to greet Natalie, her glee nothing short of puppylike.
Natalie scoops her up to give her a hug and receives joyful dog kisses to her face that make her laugh. “How long was I asleep? She’s acting like I was gone a week.”
“Every minute without you feels like a week to us, right, Fluff?”
Fluff barks in reply, and we both laugh.
“Are you and Daddy bonding?”
“We were just discussing an invitation to a father-daughter dance when you joined us.”
Natalie puts Fluff down and wraps her arms around me from behind. “Is that right?”
“Yep. Fluff says she has nothing to wear, and I told her I’d take her shopping if she promises to never again bite my ass when I’m going down on Mommy.”
“And what did she say to that?”
“What does ‘going down’ mean, Daddy?”
She pokes my ribs and rocks with laughter behind me.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“I’ve got just the thing for you.” I turn to her, put my arm around her and lead her inside to eat.
“You made this all by yourself?”
“Sure did. I had to boil water and everything.”
“I thought you didn’t know how.”
“I watched a video on YouTube.”
She laughs while I pour us both a glass of chilled chardonnay, and we dig into the meal, which is surprisingly good, considering I made it.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Great. The nap was just what I needed. I’m starting to feel like my old self again.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I like your old self a lot.”
“Sorry to be such a drag this week.”
“Don’t be sorry. You were sick.”
I twirl pasta around my fork, but I lose my appetite thinking about the film idea I want to run past her.
“What’s on your mind over there?” She’s looking at me over the top of her wineglass.
“An idea that’s been running around in my head.”
“What sort of idea?”
“The kind you’re either going to love or hate. I can’t decide which.”
“What sort of sexual torture have you dreamed up for me now?”
“Not about sex, although when you ask me things like that, it gives me other ideas.”
Her cheeks flush with color. “Forget I asked, then.”
“I won’t forget, but the idea is about your story.”
“My story? What about it?”
Here goes nothing… “It would make for a rather compelling film.”
For a moment, she’s expressionless, and then her mouth opens and closes again.
“You want to make a movie about what happened to me?”
“I would like to consider the possibility.” I’m unable to determine her true feelings, because her expression is totally blank.
“You’ve gone from not wanting to talk about it in the interview with Carolyn to wanting to make a movie about it?”
“I’m only talking to you about making a movie. I’m saying I think it’s an amazing story of resilience, perseverance, courage and determination with a happy ending for the ages. It’s tailor-made for Hollywood.”
Again she’s silent as she contemplates what I’ve said.
“Of course, the only way anything happens with your story is if you want it to. I’m only suggesting that it could be a great film. I’m not saying it has to be.”
“So you won’t be disappointed if I don’t want to do it?”
“Nope. As always, I want you to be happy. If it makes you unhappy to pursue it, then it won’t happen.”
“How would it work if I were interested?”
“First, we’d buy the rights to your story, which would give you that financial independence you’re so fond of.”
“Most people are fond of being financially independent.”
Smiling at her predictably saucy reply, I continue. “Next, we’d hire a screenwriter to put the story together. Once we have a script that you and I approve of, then we get busy making it happen.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not. It’s a long and involved process to take something from idea to the big screen, but it’s also an exciting and energizing process.”
“I can see that you’re excited by the possibility.”
“I am excited. Since the idea came to me the other day, it’s been constantly on my mind. That’s usually a good sign to me that I’m on to something. But as I said, it would be totally up to you.”
“And no hard feelings if I choose not to go there?”
“Seriously, Nat? I could never have hard feelings where you’re concerned.”
“Seems to me you have hard feelings frequently where I’m concerned.”
Her comment makes me laugh. “Very funny. But all kidding aside, I’ve got avalanching piles of scripts and potential projects on desks in three offices. I’ll find something else that interests me. Don’t worry about that.”
“I’d like to think about it.”
“Take all the time you need, and feel free to say no. I promise that if you do, that’ll be the end of it.” I reach for her and bring her onto my lap because I need to hold her right now. “If you’re at all interested, it’s something you should consider very carefully. By now you have a better idea of the kind of attention it would generate and whether you can handle that. I’ve already asked so much of you. I don’t want this to be another thing you feel you have to do for me. This is about you and sharing your incredible story with the world. It’s yours to tell or not tell, and that will always be the case.”
“I appreciate that you find my story compelling enough to even consider something like this.”
“It’s an incredibly compelling story. I’d love to tell the whole world how lucky I am to be married to you.”
She smiles and kisses me. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, then. You and I have a hot date tonight, and we need to get ready.”
“Get ready how?”
“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”
Chapter 13
Apparently, “getting ready” to go to the club involves a shower with my husband, during which he lifts me, props my back against the wall and takes me hard and fast as the steam rises around us.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you in the shower again since the first time we did it,” he whispers in my ear as he pounds into me.
“You do some of your best work vertically.”
He laughs and drops his head onto my shoulder. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m trying to make you come.”
“Where else have you wanted to do it?” I manage to ask.
The hands that are gripping my bottom tighten and spread my cheeks apart. “Here.”
The thought of it makes my entire body tingle. “So you’ve said.”
“I had another dream.”
I open my eyes and find him watching me, gauging my reaction.
“Will you tell me about it?”
“After I make you come.”
“Mmm, hurry.�
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That I’m curious and eager to hear about his dream seems to spark something in him, and he picks up the pace, driving into me repeatedly until we’re both coming. He holds me close to him for several minutes before easing me back down to stand on wobbly legs.
We get out of the shower and dry off. I’m reaching for a robe when he takes my hand and leads me to our bed. He lifts the covers. “In.”
“I thought we were going out.”
“We are. Later.”
“Okay…” I get into bed, and he follows me. We come together in the middle, arms and legs wrapped around each other in a routine that has become wonderfully familiar to me. I can’t remember what life was like before I got to sleep in his arms every night. But we’re not sleeping now, and judging by the fiery heat I see in his eyes, we’re not going out for a while either. “Tell me. I want to know what you dreamed about.”
I describe the dream to her in intricate detail, and she shivers in my arms.
“I feel like I have to be dreaming, that I can share this with you, Nat… I can’t even tell you what it means to me.”
“I want to share everything with you.”
Her eager response is the most incredible aphrodisiac. I’ve had her twice in an hour, and I’m already ready for more. It’s a dream come true. She is a dream come true.
We leave the house forty-five minutes later. Nat is dressed in a clingy top that leaves her shoulders bare and black pants that mold to all her curves. A pair of strappy black heels finishes off her sexy outfit. Her hair is a riot of curls, and she’s gone with dramatic eye makeup that highlights her green eyes. She’s worn the diamond chandelier earrings I gave her as well as the bracelet. I love that she’s wearing the jewelry I gave her, especially the two diamond rings that sit on her left ring finger.
Part of me wants to cancel our plans because I don’t want anyone, even my closest friends, to see my wife looking so hot.
“What’s wrong?” she asks when we’re on our way in the Aston Martin Vanquish.
“Huh? Nothing. What could possibly be wrong?”
“I don’t know, but you haven’t said a word since we left the house, and that’s not like you.”