by Carmen, Roya
I blush a little. “Thank you,” I say. “This is great.”
He twirls a spoonful of pasta around his fork. “So you’re thankful?”
I fork another mouthful. “Very much. It’s great.”
“Just how grateful are you?” he asks, his words a playful song.
I roll my eyes. “Not that thankful, Jacob. I told you… nothing’s happening.”
His face falls as he reaches for his beer.
“In fact, I’m sleeping outside tonight. I’m setting up my tent close to the water.”
He laughs. “Afraid of the bats?”
“No, just want to spend a night under the stars. My tent has a see-through top.”
“Sounds like a great plan. Can I join?” His smile is just as it’s always been — wide and infectious, and so damn sexy.
I shoot him a playful grin. “No, you can’t.”
Following dinner, I help him clean the kitchen. We’re both not very talkative, and I want to know what’s on his mind. He’s usually so chatty. Is he finally giving in? Does he finally understand where I’m coming from? He must know he’d be better off without me. Maybe he’s finally realizing it.
He settles down with a book, and I sit at the antique desk in the living room. I doodle in my journal, feeling completely uninspired. I don’t even have the energy to be my usual snarky self. I actually have nothing to complain about today. I wonder what my friends are up to. They’re all happy and in love. There’s Gabbie with her dream man, Eli, and little Charlotte. She also has Emma and Theo. She’s been blessed three times. How is it that some women can be blessed with a child over and over again, and some of us can’t even know that joy once.
And then there’s Maeve, who wasn’t even trying to get pregnant. She’s been so busy with her new shop, she hasn’t even had time to officially tie the knot with Blake. And Kayla is busy with her yoga classes, massage therapy and new coffee shop. She and Oscar are so in love, it’s sickening sometimes.
And then there’s me. Single, no kids, no job. Sometimes I wonder why I’m even here. Perhaps I’m here to drive the economy — I do love to shop. Thank God for my puppies — they keep me sane.
I’m just about to close my journal when a hard tug pulls my head back. Oh shit…
It’s Jacob’s foolproof move — he grabs a hold of my hair, twirls it around his large hand and pulls me back for a kiss. He knows that once he does that, I’m game for anything.
I stare up at him, my head held captive in his hand. I’m looking straight up his nostrils, but still, he’s so fucking beautiful. “You’re not playing fair,” I say, breathless.
A hint of a smile traces his lips. “I know.”
He pulls my head to the side, exposing my neck, and I close my eyes, completely surrendering to him. He pulls my loose t-shirt over my shoulder and he leans down and presses his hot mouth on my flesh. He leaves a trail of butterfly kisses along my collar bone, and I just melt. I want him so badly, but I can’t let him drag us back. We both need to move on.
The scruff of his beard scratches my tender skin and threatens to weaken my resolve. Just once? Who could it hurt?
He digs his teeth into the fleshy part of my shoulder, and a desperate moan escapes me. I want to turn around and reach for him. I want his mouth on mine. I want him inside me, just like it used to be. My hair is still tangled in his hand when he pulls at my head again. He stares down at me with a smile, and presses a soft kiss on my forehead.
And then he walks away.
8
What a freaking tease. My mouth is on the floor from the shock. He shoots me an impish grin as he leaves me hanging. How dare he? Who the hell does he think he is?
I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to chase after him and drag him into my bed. But that’s exactly what he wants, isn’t it? The other part of me wants to chase him down and give him a piece of my mind, but that’s also what he wants, to rile me up.
Nope, not gonna happen. I grab my notebook and scurry to my room, I peel off my clothes in a rage, and slip into my flannel pajamas. I gather all my things, including my sleeping bag and pillow, a flashlight, and my Kindle. The tent and air mattress is already set up, awaiting me. I sneak into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water and my bag of Doritos.
One thing’s for sure, I am not sleeping under the same roof as him. “I’m going to sleep in my tent,” I call out. “Can you keep an eye on Abby and Baxter? They were out not long ago, and I’ll be back early in the morning. I’d take them with me, but I don’t think they’d be impressed.”
He smiles wide. “You’re really sleeping out in a tent?…You?”
“Yes… me!” He thinks he knows me so well. I can rough it as good as anyone else.
It’s a little chillier than I anticipated, but I’m determined to stick it out. I have everything I need right here. I slip into my sleeping bag and prop myself against my pillow as I struggle to make myself comfortable. Finally, when I do, I settle down with my Kindle. I’m halfway through the latest Maya Banks novel and am really enjoying it. Who needs Jacob when I have erotic romance and my own hands.
I suddenly regret not bringing my vibrator along on this trip. But in my defense, I didn’t know that Jacob would be here, teasing me, working me up.
I’m a few chapters in when I realize that it’s pitch dark out there. The only light around is coming from the screen of my Kindle. The stars are beautiful, and I lie back to enjoy them. The moment is delicious, until I hear something outside, some rustling in the woods. My pulse races. I sit up, on alert. More rustling…
“Jacob, is that you?” I call out.
No answer.
“Jacob?”
The sound of a loud guttural growl sends my heart into overdrive. It’s an animal of some kind. Sounds like a bear. I didn’t even think there were bears around here, but now I’m shitting my pants.
Another growl.
I’m frozen still, breathless. My heart is pounding so hard, I fear I might pass out. “Jacob!” I scream. “Jacob!”
The rustling intensifies, and as soon as I hear the zipper of my tent, a huge breath of relief escapes me. I might still get mulled and killed by a bear, but at least I won’t die alone.
“Are you okay?” Jacob asks, full of concern.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Get in!”
He scurries in and lands by my side. I instinctually cuddle up close to him. “Did you hear that?!”
He wraps me into his embrace. “I did. I heard there was a bear sighting around here, but I thought—”
“What?!”
“Yep, there was a bear sighting a few days ago. Didn’t you hear?”
“No… you know me. I don’t read the paper and I don’t listen to the radio much.”
“Yes, you stick to CDs and the Comics and the Lifestyles section,” he teases. “Well, he was probably attracted to your Doritos. Opened food is a big no-no around bears.”
I stare at the half-eaten bag of Doritos for a second, and then grab it. “Let’s eat the rest. Get rid of it.”
Jacob laughs out loud.
“What? It’s not funny. Help me out!”
He digs into the bag and soon enough, we’ve finished all the Doritos. I’ve torn the bag open, and am now licking the silver lining clean.
Jacob is still laughing at me. “God, I’ve missed you.”
I freeze. It’s the way he’s looking at me, with so much love, it’s painful to see. It’s dark, save for the flashlight in the corner, but I can see all that’s beautiful about him, all I’ve fallen in love with; those kind dark eyes, those beautiful full lips, the irresistible curls in his hair.
I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline from my near-death experience, or the intimacy of the tent, or the complete vulnerability I felt before Jacob rescued me, but I lose all resolve. As I feel myself surrendering, a voice in my head tells me to stop, but I’m too weak to listen to it. I just don’t care anymore.
I lean into him and press my mouth to
his. He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t give me the chance to change my mind. He grabs my ass and pulls me close against him. He’s already rock hard, and I’ve never wanted him so badly. He tugs my pajama pants and panties so roughly, he leaves me breathless. I’m wet and so turned on, and not about to waste another second. I scramble to help him get my bottoms off, and as soon as that’s taken care of, I peel his lounge pants down under his rear, release his erection, and straddle him. As soon as I press down against him, as his length sinks into me, a delicious tingle travels up my spine. There’s nothing better than Jacob inside me. My husband. My love.
He feels so good, yet he breaks me. My eyes well up, and a tear flows down my cheek. Thankfully, he can’t see it because it’s dark.
“God, you feel so good, baby,” he breathes.
I press down onto him in slow long moves, wanting to make this last forever. “You too… why do you feel so amazing?”
His hands are pressed hard around my hips. “Fifty-two days baby, since I’ve last had you. I thought I was going to die.”
My heart swells at his words. “Me too.”
I startle awake, not quite remembering where I am. It takes me a second or two to acclimatize. The air is humid and cool. Jacob is sound asleep next to me, and the sight of his sleeping face warms my heart — it’s just like it used to be when we’d wake up next to each other every morning. I miss those days. I shake my head with a sinking heart — those days are all in the past now. I scramble out of the tent to go see my babies.
As soon as I swing open the door, they’re both at my feet, yapping. I kneel down to kiss them. “I’m sorry, babies. I told Jacob to take care of you, and what does he do? He leaves you to come see me and get some action.”
Abby cocks her head and Baxter follows me as I head to the door to fetch their leashes. “Yep… looks like I’ve relapsed,” I confess. “And I was doing so well, wasn’t I?”
Abby cocks her head as if to say, Yes, you were. What happened?
“Well, what happened is that your daddy is fucking hot as hell, and I hadn’t been laid for nearly two months.”
As far as excuses go, I think that’s a pretty good one. Arousal mixed with a near-death experience. Okay, admittedly, it wasn’t a near-death experience, just the scariest noise I’ve ever heard. But still.
Back to square one, I guess. I’m not sleeping with him again. It’s time to set the counter back.
Day One.
9
The walk is brisk. They do their business and we head right back for breakfast. They’re over the moon when I feed them. I’d love to be a dog. Wouldn’t life be great if all you lived for was food, sleep, and running around chasing stuff.
When we get back, Jacob is already in the kitchen, making breakfast; eggs and blueberry pancakes. Well, I’m not sleeping with him again, but I’m sure eating his food.
As we settle down at the table to eat, he shoots me a wink. “So… last night,” he starts, “was pretty awesome.”
I can’t help but smile. “It was… but…”
“But what?”
“But it didn’t mean anything, Jacob,” I tell him. I don’t want him to get any ideas. “I was just… you know… I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Corrie.” He digs into his pancakes. “I miss you every single day.”
A long breath escapes me. “Stop saying stuff like that.”
He shrugs. “Why not? It’s how I feel. Why should I hide how I feel? You know me… I’ve always been an open book.”
I do. I know him. It’s what I love about him. He’s always worn his emotions on his sleeve. “Well, it makes everything harder,” I point out. “So knock it off.”
I savor a bite of pancake and struggle to not look at him.
After a long beat, he says, “I… I need to tell you something…”
My gaze jerks up, curious. “What?”
“I have to make a confession,” he goes on, and my pulse speeds. What has he done? Did he cheat on me? Does he have a girlfriend now? All kinds of possibilities run through my head.
“Last night…” he starts and pauses.
I set down my fork and knife. “Last night what?”
He winces as he pulls out his phone and fiddles with it for a few seconds.
I’m dying of curiosity. What’s on that phone? Did he film us?
Finally, he plays a sound for me, the same terrifying growl I heard the night before.
“What?”I say, confused.
“It’s an app. It plays all kinds of sounds,” he explains. “That particular one is the grizzly sound,” he says with a guilty expression. “Scary as shit.” He laughs. “There aren’t even bears around here, Corrie.”
I’m fuming. I’m a kettle just about to whistle. I can’t believe the nerve of the man. “Are you telling me that you played sounds on your stupid phone to try to scare me? On purpose?”
He shrugs innocently. “What? I thought it’d be funny.”
“Well, it wasn’t! I was scared to death.”
He bites his lip, stifling a grin.
I want to punch him in the face.
“And not only do you scare me half to death, you take advantage of the situation to get into my pants.”
“Well, you didn’t seem to mind that part too much,” he points out. “If I recall correctly, you seem to like it quite a lot actually—”
“I can’t believe you, Jacob. You’re such a… such a…”
I’m at a loss for words. I can’t believe him. I storm off in a huff, my breakfast half-eaten, and head to my room.
I vow revenge. I have no clue how I will go about it exactly, but revenge will be mine. I pace around my room. Abby and Baxter eye me curiously, ears perked up. I’m at a loss.
I decide to just ignore him and go about with my day. My best ideas always come to me when my hands and mind are busy. A good idea is elusive — the more you try to reach it, the further away from you it will go.
I dig out the painting supplies Gabbie lent me and set up on the porch. The puppies are excited and curious.
I’m all set up at the small bistro table on the porch. I’ve brought the flowers from the dining room, and staged them as a still-life subject. The petals and leaves are starting to dry and are brown at the edges. I start off with a sketch in pencil, just as Gabbie showed me in the one lesson she gave me weeks ago.
Jacob swoops in, wearing his sneakers, running shorts, and a tight white t-shirt. I try not to look at him. “Going out for a run,” he says. “Beautiful day. Going to head to the café on the beach for lunch. You want me to bring you back anything?”
I glare at him, just so he knows that we’re not good.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” he says, and is out the screen door in a flash.
I’ve been working on my ‘masterpiece’ for over an hour. And it’s not a masterpiece at all. It plain sucks — it looks like something a nine-year old would do. Actually I’m sure a lot of nine-year olds could do much better. I don’t understand — Gabbie makes it look so easy. With a few strokes of her brush, she creates a beautiful scene so effortlessly.
Now I’m officially depressed. I lean back into my chair and stare out at the view — it’s beautiful. The waves are crashing, the lake deserted, save for a seagull or two. The small porch is quaint; wicker chairs, a porch swing, and lots of plants on the floor and hanging overhead, mostly herbs from the looks of it; chives, parsley, dill. I stare at the Carolina Reaper Ming gave me. I left it on the screen window ledge.
And it hits me.
I bounce off my chair, grab it, and dash to the kitchen where I pull a knife from the drawer. I cut straight though the pepper, careful not to get any of the juices on my skin or in my eyes. I then dash to Jacob’s room. It’s tidy as always. I carefully slide the first dresser drawer open, and there they are: socks and boxers, rolled up and folded meticulously, and his jar of hand cream. He’s so predictable.
I grab the top boxers, and smile at the sight of the
m; red with hearts all over them, a gift from yours truly for Valentine’s Day years ago. I furiously rub the pepper all over the insides, and carefully fold them again and set them back exactly as they were. I quietly close the drawer and tiptoe out of his room. I throw the pepper in the trash and wash my hands carefully.
I smile as I take a seat back at my art station. The puppies stare at me curiously, knowing I’m up to something. Dogs are clever that way. I put the finishing touches on my painting, despite it being hopeless. I was planning to hang my finished work somewhere in my condo, but that plan’s officially out the window.
Jacob is all smiles when he gets back. “How’s it going?” he asks, his usual greeting.
“Great,” I say. “We’re going for a walk on the beach. How was the café?”
“It was decent. I had a roast beef sandwich. I’m just going to grab a shower. I’m sweating like a pig.”
I smile, and he eyes me suspiciously.
“Have a good one,” I call out before heading out.
We’re sitting on the porch again, and I can barely contain my grin when Jacob shuffles around in his wicker chair. He’s trying to focus on his book but he’s distracted. He keeps rubbing at his crotch. He might not know what’s going on, but I do.
“Got ants in your pants?” I tease.
He scowls and shifts in his seat again. “My crotch is on fire.”
I laugh out loud. That’s Jacob for you — he’ll tell you it like it is.
“Seriously, I don’t know what’s wrong,” he says, concerned. “I was fine when I went for my run, and at the café…”
I study him for a beat. “Interesting…”
His eyes grow wide. “What?”
“Maybe you have an STD,” I deadpan.
“No way.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask. “Been sleeping around?”
He shakes his head. “Well, If I have one, so do you.”
I’m shocked. “You haven’t been with anyone else?” I’m astonished by this revelation.