Page 93 of Crush
It was hours past noon when I finally jumped in the shower and washed the sticky remnants of last night, and this morning, off my body. We still had a little time until Cynthia dropped the kids off at the house.
Technically, once we got out of bed, we agreed to keep our hands off each other. But that proved easier said than done. Brynn moved about the house, bopping around, humming to herself, wiggling her butt. She had such a youthful, vibrant glow about her after we'd fucked and made love all night and morning. It was way too hardnotto give her ass a hearty smack every time our paths crossed.
“Shea!” she said, spinning around and holding an accusatory finger in my face. “You can't do that! Remember, when the kids are here, we have to act normal!”
“I know, I know,” I grinned.
Guess I'm having a hard time keeping my hands to myself, too.
But the time finally came when we heard Cynthia's car pull into the driveway, followed by a series of car doors slamming. I went out to greet the kids at the door step.
“Hey Chloe,” I said, giving her a hug. “How was school?”
“Fine! How was your night?” she asked with a coy grin.
“I had a good time.” I patted her head. “Slick move to get us out of the house, by the way.”
“Gee, Dad, I just don't know what you mean,” Chloe said, slathering it onrealthick.
“Uh huh. I bet.”
Nick and Cam were next, and I greeted them both with big hugs.
“Hey there boys,” I said, adopting my gruff Dad voice. “How was the weekend at your mom's?”
“Good,” they said.
“You guys gotta beat Tampa tomorrow, Dad!” Cam said.
I ruffled his hair. “I hear ya, bud. It's not over 'til it's over.”
Nick tugged on my hand excitedly. “I don't have any homework, Dad. Can you come shoot some pucks with me in the rink?”
“Yeah, me too!” Cam said.
“Sure thing, guys.” I glanced up and noticed Cynthia's car still sitting in the driveway. “I'll meet you two down there. Just let me have a quick chat with your mom first.”
“Okay!” they said, running off.
I walked over to her car and the window rolled down. Cynthia regarded me with her barely-contained disdain.
“Hey, Cynthia. I think we need to have a chat.”
“I was going to say the same thing.” Cynthia launched into her rant, without pausing to hear what I wanted to say. “I don't know what ideas your nanny put in Chloe's head while they were home alone this weekend, but Chloe has it in her mind now that she should go totherapy?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And?”
“My daughter isn'tcrazy. She doesn't need therapy. Absolutely not. I'm putting my foot down on that.”
“She's open to it, Cynthia. You can't stop her from going.”
Futilely, she huffed and puffed. “But—but!”
“Look, Cynthia. I don't know if you realize it or not, but our daughter has been carrying guilt foryearsover the thing with Buddy—”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, lord, here we go again—always throwingBuddy Parkerin my face. I makeonemistake and you'll never let me forget it, will you? No wonder Chloe's always bringing it up! You're stuck in the past and you won't let your daughter move on, either!”
I shook my head. “You couldn't be more wrong. All this time, I've avoided talking about it with Chloe, because I figured it was better if we moved on and left it in the past. Now I'm realizing how wrong I was. I had no idea it was eating her up inside. All along, Chloe thought thatshewas the reason we got divorced.”
