Accidental Tryst

by Mia London

  Time passed as they regained their breaths, and gingerly Mac slipped out. He quickly grabbed a washcloth and wetted it with warm water.

  He returned to a sated, naked, and sexy Angie, on her side, just as he’d left her.

  “Let me wipe some of this,” he said as she glanced over her shoulder.

  She lifted her leg and let him wipe her skin.

  “Mmm,” was all he heard.

  Then he heaved the washcloth back into the bathroom, watching it land on the tile floor. He yanked the sheet and cover back over them and spooned her from behind.

  “Amazing,” she breathed.

  “You’re amazing,” he replied. “Sleep, baby.”

  He held her until her breathing deepened, and he knew she’d gone back to sleep.

  Mac was a man on top of the world. He wouldn’t count his victory yet, but he knew after this night, he’d made strides to getting Angie back. Elation filled him to the core. The love of his life was coming back, and nothing else mattered.

  Angie awoke decadently sore. She rolled onto her back and stretched. She felt tight and used and wonderful. Some of the best sex she’d ever had, was right there in that opulent hotel and that luxurious bed.

  She tipped her head to Mac’s side of the bed. Her heart plummeted. He was gone.

  One glance at the bathroom, and the door was wide open with no lights on. Her sight moved to the chair. All his clothes were gone.

  Why would he leave?

  Tears pricked at the backs of her lids, until something caught her eye. She lifted her head and noticed a single red rose laying on Mac’s side of the bed. She lifted it to smell. It was just like the dozen he had sent to her office days before.

  A card also rested on the mattress. She moved the sheet and lifted the card.

  I want to see you again.

  Mac

  * * *

  And he’d written his cell number on the bottom of the card.

  She snorted. Like she didn’t know his number. He was keeping the game going, and she loved it.

  She clutched the card to her chest and collapsed back down on the bed. A sigh slipped passed her lips.

  Maybe they could save their marriage after all. The small smile that pulled at Angie’s lips grew. Maybe.

  She glanced at the clock.

  Oh shit!

  She flew out of bed, searching for her clothes. She never slept until nine o’clock unless she was sick. Shit!

  Robbie had basketball practice. How was she going to make it in time?

  Dress on, she smoothed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. She searched for a toothbrush in her bag as she shoved her panties inside. Then she reached for her phone on the desk and trekked to the bathroom. The screen illuminated.

  What? She had a text from Robbie.

  * * *

  Dad is taking me to practice, then Stuart. He said he hoped you had a good night and to enjoy your breakfast.

  * * *

  Angie grinned. Did she have a good night? The best. And Mac had everything under control. But, what did he mean about breakfast?

  No sooner had the thought passed through her mind when someone knocked on the door.

  “Room service,” the voice called out.

  Angie looked through the peephole to see a young man dressed in black pants, vest, and a white shirt pushing a tray of covered dishes. She opened the door, and the man pushed the cart inside.

  “Good morning, Mrs. MacKey. I’ll set your breakfast over here, okay?”

  She nodded and watched him set the dishes, the pot of coffee, and a rose in a vase on the table. She reached into her wallet for a tip, and the man left with a smile.

  Angie lifted the lids. Oh my. The smell of the blueberry pancakes hit her in an instant. Another plate held a veggie omelet with hash browns. Her mouth watered. On a smaller plate sat bacon and sausage patties. So much food. Frankly, after last night, she thought she could make a reasonable dent in the fare. Mac had picked all her favorites.

  First things first—coffee. After several flavorful sips, she set the cup down and stripped out of her dress and bra. She pulled on a hotel robe and cuddled up in a chair, staring at the feast.

  Mac’s gesture was so thoughtful. Really thoughtful. The whole previous night was so well planned and enchanting. She let out a sigh before taking another sip. She loved everything he’d done, including now. She basked in the glow of happiness.

  The next step was hers. She didn’t think she could plan something so grandiose in a short time, but she knew one thing--in public relations, the gesture could be big or small, it didn’t always matter, as long as it happened.

  She lifted her phone and began to type.

  I want to see you again too. Care to come over for dinner tonight, say 6:00?

  * * *

  She reached for the pitcher of syrup and covered her pancakes. She’d consumed three forkfuls when her phone chimed.

  * * *

  Good morning! Love to. 6:00 is perfect. What can I bring?

  * * *

  She thought.

  * * *

  Morning! Nothing. I’ll have everything ready. And actually, we’d better make it 7, since I’m now lounging in the hotel room, sipping coffee, completely naked.

  * * *

  She grinned as she waited for his response while munching on some bacon.

  * * *

  Oh, Angelique. If I were there right now, coffee would be the last thing on your mind.

  * * *

  She laughed into her cup. She loved the banter. It had been years since they’d flirted with each other like this. Life seemed to be turning around. And just in the nick of time.

  * * *

  After the text he’d received from Angie, he had only one thing on his mind. Mac felt like a damn hormonal teenager thinking about her.

  He’d taken a gamble last night. An insane gamble. Shit, he told—didn’t ask—told her he was going to fuck her. He demanded she get down on her knees and suck him. He spread her legs and told her to masturbate for him. What the hell!

  He wasn’t so sure if the roles were reversed he would have responded so . . . kindly. He probably would have told himself to go fuck off. But not his girl. She’d loved it. And so had he.

  His gamble had paid off.

  He had himself an invitation to dinner. Perfect. He couldn’t have asked for anything better. Correction, an invitation to spend the night would top it off. He would have an overnight bag in the car, just in case.

  He glanced down at his wristwatch. Robbie’s basketball practice went for another thirty minutes. Then they’d hustle to Stuart’s football practice. So far, the school’s basketball team looked good. They could work on tightening their passing, but the coach was solid, so he’d have them ready for next Saturday’s game.

  The football team rocked the season so far. With only one loss and one regular-season game left to play, they were on track for the playoffs. Stuart had excelled and would undoubtedly be first-string receiver next year.

  Mac couldn’t be more proud of his boys. The separation between him and Angie had created a few waves—mostly dips in the grades—but they’d refocused. There was a chance the boys were secretly happy their parents weren’t fighting anymore. Regardless, Mac had assured them he was not giving up on his marriage. He didn’t know if that was a good idea, maybe it gave them false hope, but it was the truth. And after last night, his prospects were looking up.

  Glancing over at Stuart, he observed his son’s thumbs flying over the smartphone and a smile widen on his face. Looked very much like a text to his new girlfriend. Noelle was her name. Sweet as a cup of hot chocolate. Mac didn’t think their relationship had turned physical, but he had a gut feeling if they continued dating, it could.

  Mac scratched his jawline. Perhaps he should have a friendly conversation with his eldest about women. He’d already covered the birds and the bees, just as the school had, years ago. No, what he wanted to discuss was different, somethin
g the school would never cover. Pleasure to a woman required care and attention. Men were like microwave ovens, but women were like crockpots. Slow to warm, but they could stay hot for a while.

  Mac would make sure his sons knew the phrase women first didn’t just mean the order to board a lifeboat or cross a threshold. They would have a conversation Mac was truly coming to understand. A conversation that could potentially avoid the situation Mac and Angie found themselves in.

  He wouldn’t dwell on that at this point. He was turning this ship around, and that was a good thing.

  Angie leisurely showered at the hotel, dressed in fresh clothes, and headed to the store. She got the ingredients she needed for paella, and on a whim, she ran next door to the home store and bought a new set of satin bed linens. God, they were incredibly soft and smooth. This would be a nice unexpected touch.

  She thankfully arrived home to an empty house, ready to get to work. First, she unpackaged the linens, washed them, and after a gentle dry, she ironed them and made the bed. It might be presumptuous that she and Mac would break in these sheets, but ultimately it was her choice. And if tonight was anything like the previous, . . . then Mac would definitely be staying.

  After she ran the vacuum and picked up stray shoes and socks, she noticed a text from Stuart. It appeared Mac had taken them out to a late lunch and would be dropping them off shortly.

  She started on dinner so it could be ready whenever they wanted to eat. The boys walked in as she pulled plates and silverware out of the cabinets.

  Her breath stalled, wondering why Mac wasn’t with them. “Hey, kids. Where’s your dad?”

  “Hi, Mom. He said he wanted to get cleaned up. I guess he’s coming over for dinner?” Robbie asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  “That’s right. Please take your stuff off the stairs.”

  “Okay, Mom,” they said in unison.

  With dinner basically done and the wine chilling, she made her way to the bedroom. She clipped her hair on top of her head and jumped into the shower. The sweet smell of her body wash would be great for an intimate evening. She rubbed a light lotion over her body in the same scent. Then, she fished out some sexy lingerie, a fine knit sweater, and her best jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. After freshening her makeup, she felt ready for her date.

  She shook her head and smiled at the mirror. It had been years since she’d felt giddy over a date. Her heart beat just a little bit faster these past few hours. She peeked down at her watch to see she still had thirty minutes before Mac would arrive.

  She strolled out of the bedroom into the great room and no sooner did she get some background music on when she heard the boys wrestling upstairs.

  “Boys,” she called. “Boys!”

  She heard some more grunts. “Yeah?”

  “Break it up and get ready for dinner.”

  Some more thuds and grunts, and someone muttered, “Wimp.”

  “Let’s go,” she called in the most authoritative voice she could muster.

  “Okay.” And after a few beats she heard water running.

  She opened the wine, because Lord knew she needed something to do. Something to distract her from her nervousness. The doorbell rang, and her breath hitched.

  He was five minutes early. She opened the door to a sexy, smiling Mac. Her heart sank. He’d dressed in a deep navy suit with a crisp white shirt and cranberry striped tie. A tie she’d hadn’t seen before, for that matter.

  She wore jeans.

  “Hello,” he greeted her with a sultry voice.

  “I’m wearing jeans,” she stated the obvious.

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “I see that.”

  She giggled and stepped back to let him in. “You look very handsome. Please come in.”

  His hand on her waist, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek which sent a shiver up her spine. “These are for you,” he whispered into her neck. He presented a bouquet of lovely red roses. She loved red roses. These weren’t the grocery store kind. These came from a florist.

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” The gesture touched her deep inside. When was the last time he’d brought her flowers? She bit back the tears and covered her emotion with an over-exuberant smile.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mac followed Angie into the kitchen, and he couldn’t help notice how amazing her ass looked in those jeans. He wanted desperately to palm those gorgeous cheeks. Fuckable. That was the best way to describe how his wife looked to him right then. But that would have to wait.

  She lay the roses on the counter and cut the tips before arranging them in a vase of water. “I opened the wine. Would you like a glass? We’re having paella.”

  “Yes. I’ll get it.” He reached for a stemmed glass and poured the chardonnay. “Where are the boys?”

  “Upstairs. They’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Great.” Without missing another beat, he did what he’d been wanting to do since her text that morning. He set down his wine, then cupped his hands around her jawline and neck, and leaned close, smoothing his lips over hers before diving in. She leaned into the kiss, and he dove deeper.

  They kissed for several seconds before they heard footsteps on the stairs. He groaned and broke the kiss. A prelude. She grinned, but didn’t say a word.

  “Hi, Dad,” Stuart said. “What’s for dinner, Mom?”

  “Paella. Would you please set the table?” She pointed to the stack of plates.

  “Sure.”

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Make yourself comfortable. Perhaps you’d like to take off your jacket.”

  He lifted an eyebrow for only her to see and mouthed that’s all? Angie’s eyes twinkled and she bit down on her lip.

  Stuart set the table while Angie covered the green beans to steam.

  “Hi, Dad,” Robbie said as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey.” Mac felt utterly comfortable. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t too comfortable—to the point of being complacent. If he was going to do this, to recommit to his marriage, he was going to do it right. But he missed being at home, his home, with his family.

  The boys took a seat and Mac placed the wine bottle on the table.

  “How did your practices go today, boys?” she asked.

  “Good,” they said in stereo.

  As the four of them ate, the boys talked about their sports and updated Angie on upcoming games. Stuart’s phone chimed.

  “Stuart,” Mac said in a stern voice. “No electronics at the table.”

  “Sorry, Dad, but Matthew just got his license this week.” He paused to read more. “He wants to know if I want to go to a movie tonight.” Then he looked up eagerly. “Can I go?”

  This could be a very good thing, Mac thought. He glanced at Angie, and she shrugged a shoulder of indifference. “Where are you going and what time would you be home?”

  Stuart texted his friend, and Robbie asked, “Can I go with you?”

  Stuart rolled his eyes at his brother, but he typed more, apparently asking anyway. “We’re going to the Cineplex and should be home by midnight.”

  “What do you think?” Mac faced her.

  She looked at the boys, and replied, “I suppose it’s okay.”

  “Can I go?” Robbie asked again, bobbing her head.

  “Yeah,” Stuart mumbled.

  On their good news, they each shoveled another forkful of food in their mouths. They finished in half the time, cleared their plates, and went to gather their shoes and jackets.

  Mac and Angie ate at a more leisurely pace. Noticing her wineglass was empty, he refilled it.

  “Thank you.”

  “So, how has work been going for you?”

  “Good. The initial market test of the men’s line went very well. Jarmon is eager to roll it out corporate-wide next year.”

  “Yeah? That is good news,” Mac said with a nod.

  “It is. Plus, we’ve got some new designers we’re working with, and that’s
adding to the excitement. Otherwise, nothing new going on. Just the usual.”

  Nothing was “usual” when it came to Angie and her job. He could recall a thousand stories of her quietly, confidently going about her duties, graciously accepting accolades, and all the while chalking it up to I’m just doing my job. If she didn’t love her job so much, he’d want to hire her.

  Stuart called from the foyer. “Matthew’s here.”

  Mac stood. “Hold up.” He met his boys before they bolted out the door. “No horse-play. Don’t distract him. Just because you’re not going very far doesn’t mean there can’t be an accident.” He looked them directly in the eyes. “Come home right after the movie.”

  “Alright, Dad.” They walked out, Mac waved to Matthew, and locked the front door.

  Peace and quiet. All alone with Angie.

  Mac sat back down, across from Angie, and refilled his glass. She asked about his work, and he updated her on the concern about Frisco’s escalated manufacturing costs. He told her about the recycled water project and how the idea came to him. “Broccoli water.”

  Her face froze. “You’re kidding.”

  “No,” he said with a shake of his head and a grin on his face. “Just goes to show you, inspiration can come from anywhere.”

  She chuckled. “Well, I hope it works for you.”

  “At the very least, we should be doing this anyway,” he said with conviction. “The amount of water Frisco uses is insane. I’m surprised we haven’t implemented some sort of conservation method before now.”

  She leaned further back in her chair and crossed her legs.

  They chatted like the old days and polished off the bottle of wine. He reminded himself how good it felt, and how he needed to hold on to this. He couldn’t do things like he’d done them in the past. He couldn’t take his marriage for granted.