Page 118 of What About Us
She’s so perfect and it takes very little time to have her built up and writhing, hips rocking against my fingers as she chases her release. One of her hands buries itself in the hair at the nape of my neck when she turns to take my mouth again. In no time, she’s coming apart on my fingers with a soft cry.
I pull my hand from between her legs and wipe the slickness on the inside of her thigh, loving the way she shivers when I do.
She sighs deeply and reaches back to feel the bulge currently trying to punch its way through the front of my sweats. “Your turn,” she says, sweetly, turning and crawling to her knees. She palms my length through my pants with one hand, while pushing me down on my back with the other.
I drop back, but keep my upper body propped up on my elbows so I can watch her. She smiles up at me through long lashes. We’re out in the open, but it’s past midnight. Even if someone was awake, given how dark it is and the distance from where everyone is camped, it would be hard to make out much.
I lift my hips for her, and she pulls my sweats down just enough to free my aching length. She gives me a couple of long, slow pumps. My head drops back, and I swear I see a million stars above when she wraps her sweet mouth around me.
I’m completely lost for this woman.
Chapter 42
Finnley
The drive to thePine Creek Falls trailhead only takes an hour or so. With Paige, Tate, and Jordan in the back of Hudson’s truck watching a movie on an iPad, Ginger and I visit. We have really hit it off, and I’ll miss her when she leaves tomorrow.
We’ve chatted about her job, how she’s just finished a really big project for a startup company, and how much she loves the freedom her new company gives her. She’s been in corporate positions for years, practically since college, but she’s making a good living on her own after only six months, and she has another big client set up for when she returns home.
We all pile out of the truck and Paige and I strap on our small day packs, while Ginger wrangles both boys so she can apply sunscreen and bug repellent. Paige and I wait, having already applied ours back home. Soon, the boys and Ginger are slathered up, skin shining, and a cloud of insect repellent hangs in the air, making both boys cough.
It’s clear that Ginger isn’t really the outdoorsy type; she’s dressed in something akin to a safari guide in khaki shorts and an army green button-down. She’s got sneakers on, but they’re new, and she’ll probablyhave blisters later. Her hair is perfectly styled, hanging down her back in hundreds of springing, red curls, and her makeup is applied to perfection. She’s gorgeous, with a white canvas crossbody pouch and a glass water bottle.
The boys are dressed similarly to match one another, but their tennis shoes are scuffed in such a way that is synonymous with little boys. Paige and I are both dressed in leggings, T-shirts, ponytails, and worn-in hiking boots.
Hudson and I have hiked this trail for years, and although it’s rocky in some spots, it’s an easy hike for beginners. About a mile in, we’ll come to a beautiful waterfall and an area where the kids can wade in and collect rocks. According to Paige, it’s the only reason to hike this trail. I had hoped Wrenley and Hudson would be able to join us, but she wasn’t feeling well. She stayed home to rest, and Hudson had a bartender call out sick, so he’ll be working until this evening.
We’ve been hiking for about forty-five minutes and are nearing the waterfall. The kids run off ahead of us, but still stay within sight.
As we reach the shallow wading pond, I call out, “Stay on this side of those big rocks, please!”
I take a seat on a flat rock, twenty or so feet from where the kids trudge into the water, kicking up water and laughing together. Just as Ginger sits down, her phone dings. She pulls it out of her pocket, splitting her attention between it and the boys. I get the impression that it’s difficult for her to shut her mind off and just be present, even out here with nothing but nature and the sounds of birdsong. I’m surprised she even has cell service up here. My phone is lucky to get one bar on a good day.
I pull out a package of beef jerky and a couple of granola bars in case the kids get hungry. “Everything ok?” I ask, snapping off a bite of jerky and chewing as I watch her. Her shoulders have gone stiff, and she lets out a sigh.
She pockets her phone and glances my way with a small smile. Dropping her voice to a low murmur, she says, “My ex is getting remarried.”
“That’s tough,” I say. I don’t know if Ginger is hurt by him moving on, but I figure if I keep my responses generic but empathetic, I’m not prying too much. That way, she can give as much or as little information as she’s comfortable with.
She shrugs, tucking a lock of shiny auburn hair behind her ear. “Not in the way you’d think. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. But he and his fiancée are having a baby, too, which means he’ll probably be around even less now for the boys.”
I glance back to the kids, watching as Jordan and Paige jabber together. Tate wades along behind them, spinning a leaf between his fingers. He’s near the others, but not joining in. I recall the night Hudson came home, how Ginger had said over FaceTime that her ex had bailed on the boys, and it wasn’t the first time from the sounds of it.
“It’s like he’s starting a whole new family. The boys adore him, and even though our divorce was amicable, and they were really young at the time, it's been really hard on Tate. He used to cry for Peter all time. I can’t imagine how he’ll take Peter’s marriage. She’s already got two kids from a previous marriage, and they’ll have a new baby soon. Jordan will be ok, I think, but Tate’s never been a fan of change.”
I listen intently, keeping my eyes roving between her and the kids in the water. I remember how hard it was on Paige when her mom left, and how she cried herself to sleep some nights. She was only a couple of years younger than Tate and Jordan are now. Tristen was rarely around for dinner or bedtimes when she had a show, and Hudson did most of that stuff himself. By the way Ginger talks about her ex, I can only assume it would be so much harder to grasp divorce with a parent who was attentive andpresent.
It briefly makes me wonder how Paige would react to someone new in Hudson’s life, or even if she were to find out that he and I are married. Would she be happy about it? Would she even understand?
“Change can definitely be so hard,” I say. Going through my own divorce as an adult was hard enough, and Jeff and I didn’t have kids to consider.
Ginger nods. “Things were great for a lot of years. With Peter and me, I mean. There really wasn’t one thing to pinpoint when it all went south. Relationships can be hard even when life is good. Add in kids, work, a dog, and everyday stuff, like caring for a home, and our relationship just got lost in the shuffle.”
I’m surprised she’s opening up to me as much as she is, seeing as how we haven’t known one another long, but I’m grateful she trusts me enough to talk to me. Even though I have Hudson and Wren, it feels nice to have someone else to talk with. And I truly like Ginger. I’m glad I can lend her an ear.
“Tate has always been an anxious kid. He’s been doing so well lately,” she says, watching her sons and Paige with a small smile as they continue splashing around up ahead, trying to skip rocks. “He really thrives on routine. Going back and forth every other weekend was so hard on him at first. He’s finally adjusted, but it’s been hard for him to see his dad with another woman.”
“I’m sure that would be hard on any kid. And they’re so young.”
