Page 4 of The Chosen Two

Not a minute goes by before she responds:

O Thank GOD. Yes. T just spit up all over the inside of the diaper bag. Raincheck til tomorrow!!!

I stare at the ceiling until my alarm tells me to start my afternoon rat race. I groan and rub my eyes. On my way out the door, I pour the last, and now cold, cup of coffee and swallow it fast. It’s pretty nasty, but I need the caffeine boost to get through a few more hours.

I pick up Sammy and Natalie first and then race to get Phoebe. Jessie will get a ride with a friend as usual, since I cannot get to that many places in the short amount of time I have to do it all. As I grab my purse, I stop for a beat in the mudroom and look at the peg board. I grab a baseball cap and pull it down low over my forehead. Maybe if I hide, any other weirdos will stay away for the rest of the day. Any more encounters will leave me curled in the fetal position, sobbing.

As I walk from my car to the school in the baseball cap and a pair of oversized sunglasses I found in my glove compartment, everyone looks at me funny. Actually, they probably don’t, but I feel like they do. Nadia puts her hands out questioningly and mouths, “What the fuck?” when she sees me.

I look at her and shrug as I pass her. “Don’t. Ask. I don’t even know. But I promise I will tell you when I figure it out.”If.IfI figure it out. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand this day, but I can’t tell her that right now.

My kids raise an eyebrow and shake their heads when they see my accessories, and they didn’t even see me freak out at the PTA meeting or grocery store. They just know I’m their mom, and therefore I’m automatically weird and not cool, regardless of what I’m wearing on my face and head.

Jessie doesn’t get home in time to spot my makeshift disguise, but I keep glancing out the window and scanning the backyard often enough that she notices.

“What is UP with you?” she finally asks, as I open the curtains for the eighth time.

“Nothing.” I close the curtains, faster and snappier than I intended. Whoops. She stares at me for several seconds.

“You’re so weird!” She huffs and leaves the kitchen.

She’s not wrong. I don’t know if I even want to know what’s going on at this point. It’s fine, though. I’m fine. Everything is totally fine.

***

When Jake makes it into our bedroom, it’s close to midnight. Even though I have been lying in bed and trying to fall asleep for forty-five minutes, I’m no closer to sleep now than when I was at the grocery store. When he comes in, he loosens his tie and walks up to my side of the bed to see if I’m awake. I’m not sure why he’s surprised that I am.

“Hey there.” His voice is raspy from the lateness in the night. He leans in and kisses me lightly, his hands on either side of my shoulders. Then he pushes off, drops his tie by my feet, and walks around the bed toward the hamper while shedding his navy-blue khakis and light blue, pinstripe, button-down shirt.

“Hey yourself. Why are you home so late?”

“Sorry. Ryan and I had to clean up our presentation. We’re both pretty nervous about this pitch.” He’s down to his boxer briefs as he walks to the bathroom. I love those boxer briefs. They hug his thighs just right, and they have this little pouch that…never mind.

“Oh, shit! That’s right. You’re leaving tomorrow. Where are you going again?” I call loud enough for him to hear me but not so loud that I’ll wake the kids. I say a quick thank you to the laundry gods that I remembered to run his underwear this afternoon.

I used to know all his trips, down to his flight numbers and hotels. That was at least eleven years and three kids ago. Now I have enough other schedules in my mind that I struggle to keep track of when he’ll be home and when he’ll be away. I hear the toilet flush and water run, and a moment later, he’s standing in the doorway and brushing his teeth.

“Vegas, meeting with that new pop group Chris wants us to woo. Callie and the somethings…”

“Oh right. Well, don’t woo themtoomuch.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “You worried?”

I yawn, desperate for sleep that is still a very long way off. “Yup. Always.”

He rolls his eyes and walks back into the bathroom to go rinse.

I’m not lying. I may have shrouded my words in sarcasm, but I do worry when he goes away, even when it’s not to Las Vegas. His body may not be exactly the same as it was when we got together, but it’s a hell of a lot closer to its original condition than mine is, maybe even better. I have seen how women look at him when he’s dressed sharp for work. And I see how they look at me next to him. I don’t like it.

He walks around to his side of the bed, and I feel a slight shift on the mattress as he sits. But instead of lying down, he looks at me with a devilish smile. “Well, I guess you better make sure I don’t go thinking of anyone else while I’m away.” He shifts to his hands and knees and crawls toward me like a tiger impressing his mate, or perhaps intimidating his prey.

When he gets to my side, he swings one knee gracefully over my hips so he straddles me. He leans back on his heels, sitting up and regaining the use of his arms, while also taking in the sight of me. I can’t imagine I’m particularly attractive right now with my mind all over the place, sure I’m losing it, and exhausted from the day I’m still ruminating about.

But he looks at me as if I’m the sexiest person he’s ever seen, regardless of my oversized T-shirt that replaced teddys over a decade ago. My hands are folded across my breasts, and in one deft move that he has practiced over our years together, he takes both of my wrists in one hand and raises them above my head, pinning them there, gently. As he lowers his mouth to mine, drinking in my moans, his other hand slips down between us and begins to rub me through my thin cotton panties. A wet patch quickly spreads there, and he moans in anticipation.

He reaches lower, still holding my wrists, and as he makes his way back up my body, he’s clutching the tie he left by my feet.

“Hmmmm. Wrists…” He trails his fingertips down my arm, across my collarbone, and along my face, and my breaths deepen and hitch the longer he debates what to do with me. “Or eyes. Decisions. Decisions.” He clicks his tongue pensively while staring into me, seeing everything I am, everything I have ever been. His dark eyes are penetrating. I feel them probing for a tell of my greatest desires in this moment. I bite my lip. The corner of his mouth quirks up and I am putty for him to manipulate however he pleases. He slowly wraps my wrists together with his silk tie. I gasp a little, and he plugs my mouth with his finger. My hips begin to writhe beyond my control as I start to suck on him. Then he leans down so his mouth brushes my ear.

---