3 The Slide into Fourth
Dash/Beau
Dash
Through the good and bad times, I held on to the memory of Beau shifting my birthday by a day to give me my own twenty-four hours to celebrate. His sweetness and consideration, especially when he preferred not to make a fuss over his own birthday, had me absently bringing his knuckles to my lips for a kiss.
The July heat and humidity lingered throughout the day and into the night. The scent of heavily applied sunscreen clung to us as we enjoyed the last few hours of the night by poolside. Scott and Lauren were snuggled together on one lounger facing the pool. Beau and I sat side by side in Adirondack chairs, closer to the trickling waterfall on the outer edge of the pool. Our backyard was a carefully planned oasis where we spent most of our free time. The perfect outdoor setting for the entire family.
Having bought all of Beau’s grandparents’ land, and the property next to it with the thick thatch of forestry where Beau and I shared our first kiss, we had ample space for a swing set, treehouse, and a safe jungle gym built before any of the children arrived. I eventually wanted the girls to take tennis lessons. I had a space on the property reserved in my mind for a court when money freed up.
Between there and here was a lovely, fenced-in swimming pool, built-in waterfall, and a dedicated shallow end for the kids. A large, covered sandbox was nearby. We’d built a privacy fence around the majority of the property and installed expensive as hell landscaping and loads and loads of flowers to help tie it all together. I always had ideas to improve our living space, but for now, with the cost of private school starting in the fall, we spent a lot of the money we made.
Why was I thinking about that right now? I lifted Beau’s hand, kissing it again. His head rested against the back of the chair, and at my gestures, he swiveled to face me with a questioning gaze. “I was just thinking about the picture the girls gave me. I loved it.”
Beau’s brows crinkled. “Amelia gives you a picture of them every year. It couldn’t have been a surprise.”
He was a rock when it came to reality, never getting lost in the whimsical fairy tale I spun about our life. My fingers tightened around his. “This year’s picture is the day we brought West home for the first time. We’re all in the picture. Our family’s complete. West looks so much like you.”
Beau nodded and closed his eyes. “It’s late.”
“It is late,” Lauren Lee agreed, getting to her feet. “We need to go home. Tomorrow mornin’s comin’ quick.”
Scott, Beau’s childhood buddy and Lauren’s husband, kept his hands on her body. How she held him captivated after so many years of marriage was inspiring. It was the same way Beau held me. Scott rose too, circling her waist. “You’re gonna have to get me home,” Scott said. “We have a long walk. Ten feet at least.”
The joke never grew old. Scott bought the vacant lot next to ours. We saw at least one member of the Lee family every day. Our kids were fast friends. Scott focused on the charter service full-time, while Lauren became a cosmetologist, having a successful career at the only high-end salon in the area. For me, life with a talented stylist next door was everything right in the world.
Amelia set up a slumber party for most of the kiddos in the living room. I didn’t know for sure, but suspected Daisy Mae and Dolly, Scott’s two oldest girls had gone home. Their young teenage selves took the whole hormonal, bad attitude as a way of life. They could barely tolerate us anymore.
“Whoever’s asleep, let them stay,” Beau said without moving his head or opening his eyes. My brows knitted together. It was my birthday night. We’d never be quiet enough not to wake up Scott’s kids. My fingers squeezed until Beau glanced at me. “What? That’s what happens at a slumber party. And you got yours this mornin’. Tomorrow’s comin’ where you’ll get more.”
“Hmm,” I murmured as I manifested laser beams shooting from my eyes.
“I sense tension,” Scott said, happy to jump in the middle of any possible disagreement. He was loud and full of humor.
“Good night, Lee,” Beau said dismissively.
“We should probably stay too,” Scott said, unfazed by Beau. “It’s late and a risk to get home with how much we’ve had to drink…”
“Figure it out,” Beau said, finally sitting up and paying attention to his surroundings. “Lauren can get you home. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Har, har.” Scott tucked an arm back around Lauren and turned to leave. “He’s always testy these days. Remember when he used to be a nice guy?” He didn’t wait for an answer before adding, “It’s hard for me to remember too.”
The never-ending banter between those two left me hiding a smile. When I turned back to Beau, he bent over the arm of the chair to be right in my face. “You know, we could take off to Houston tonight. Amelia said Belle’s arrivin’ first thing in the mornin’. She’ll be here until we return on Monday afternoon.”
“How did Amelia respond to the idea of additional help?” I whispered. Amelia was quite protective of the children and preferred to keep other adults out of the house until they were properly vetted. No one ever passed her tests.
“I sold it to her as a present for the girls. She’s comin’ as Belle from Beauty and the Beast . She’ll stay in character for the length of the stay,” Beau reminded me. “I showed her all the background tests she passed from Care.com.”
“Ahh, yeah, I remember now. She’s costing about three hundred dollars, right?” I asked. When Beau started to move away, I locked an arm around his neck, keeping him close. “That doesn’t seem like a lot for two days of Belle.”
“I didn’t think so either,” he said, giving a giant yawn in my face. “Let’s just leave tomorrow. Come to bed with me.” Of course Beau broke my hold and drew me up with him, walking side by side to our bathroom entrance. “She reduced her price because she’s lookin’ for a part-time job with us. She’s bringin’ a Disney library to read. The girls are so smart, they’re gonna have fun. She’s plannin’ a tea party in the treehouse.”
I pushed open the door, and cold air blasted us. Beau slipped inside first. I got the peck I expected as he passed by. “They’re so curious. I bet that’s how you were growin’ up.” He gave me another kiss with a giant grin while he descended then retreated. “At their age, I was flingin’ myself off the end of the boat dock. I never learned not to do it. They had to jump in and save me several times until I figured out how to save myself.”
“I love you,” I said, locking us inside the house before edging past Beau into the bedroom. “I’m going to check on the kids and shut the house down. I’ll be back to lay in bed and talk about nothing until you fall asleep on me.”
“I’m leavin’ shorts on the bed for you. The pajama pants have to go,” Beau said, disappearing into our closet.
“I can’t let you win,” I confessed, heading back to the bathroom.
“I know it’s hard on you,” he said with his head poking out of the closet. He was relaxed and still grinning ear to ear. He must have enjoyed the day. Those bright smiles he was throwing out were reserved for only the best of times. “Don’t worry, I won’t count the win. Consider it a birthday present.”
I lost him to the closet once again while I did my part to secure everyone inside the house and setting the alarm. As suspected, Scott’s two older children were gone. The rest of the girls were asleep on sleeping bags all over the living room furniture and plush rug on the floor. Both dogs were sleeping near them. Amelia dozed in her recliner. West was knocked out in a smaller rocking crib near her. He’d had a huge day. These scenes always filled my emotional bank until it spilled over. I vowed to never take any of this for granted. I flipped off the overhead light and started for my bedroom.
Beau
Since we married, Dash and I established a new anniversary tradition: we took turns planning the celebration. This year fell to me. Dash gave me the odd years due to my personality. He thought that joke was hilarious. Me? He needed to leave humor to those who knew how to deliver a joke.
This was our first anniversary alone since the kids arrived. In the theme of “go big or go home,” I’d splurged on a junior suite at the newly opened Escape Resorts, a luxury hotel on the west side of Houston. I aimed to wine and dine my guy. I envisioned medium rare T-bone steaks, artery clogging loaded baked potatoes, overflowing bottles of wine, and loads and loads of carnal sexcapades. We’d make up for every time our responsibilities thwarted our sexy time.
Instead, I discovered my anxiety was still right under the surface, and it made me insecure as hell. Over the last few years, I thought I’d managed to carve out a compatible, healthy space in Dash’s life. The problems in our past never actually reached me anymore. The country boy, me, and the socialite, Dash, found a cohesive existence to live our lives. Pfft. A night in Escape Resorts, or better said, a reservation at Reservations fine dining and nightclub, proved I still hadn’t integrated well with the wealthy. From the clothes I wore to the callouses embedded on my palms, I still didn’t fit in the crowds Dash was born to thrive in. I had donned a suit that was made at least ten years ago while I tried my hand at romance and seduction. Yet all my preparation had me feeling like I was the lead character in a remake of Hee Haw .
I gave a humorless laugh. Clearly, I was the funny one.
The table was spacious and ours for the evening. We tucked into the half circle booth, sitting side by side—nowadays, the closeness provided better ease for me to finish Dash’s dinner when he’d had enough.
The evening was a ‘culinary’ experience. A multi-course meal that lasted over three hours. Slowly, I unwound from Dash who pressed himself close to my side. Thankfully, I remembered the basics of etiquette I’d learned when we lived in Chicago. Well, until it came to the actual eating of the main meal. When I tasted the deliciously seasoned thick cut T-bone, I trailed the next bite with its juices dripping toward Dash for a try. Good fortune must have smiled on me because Dash was deft in his napkin skill, dodging the juices and still managing to take the bite.
Honestly, I felt like Dash was digging the vibe I tried to create. As the clock struck ten, the restaurant opened to the dance club next door. A gay nightclub. A first for me in a very long time, but clearly not Dash who strutted and danced to the other side of the building while holding his glass of wine.
I wasn’t sure which one of us plied the other with alcohol. The culprit might have been simply the time of year; it was damned hot outside. Another option was the hard, tight twenty-year-old waiters who wore tiny speedo uniforms and nothing more. Their bright, flirty smiles encouraged more and more cocktails. Maybe it was the way they kept our drink glasses full, and our dance floor space was next to our reserved high-top table.
My bet landed on the way Dash undressed me while dancing suggestively against my body. First, he removed my tie, the dress shirt followed, the belt was shimmied off, and the button of my slacks was left open causing them to hang low on my hips. How did he continue to arouse me so thoroughly after all this time?
A drunk Dash was a beautiful thing. From our seven o’clock reservation for dinner to about an hour ago, somewhere around midnight, my guy had finally stopped chatting about where the girls were going to start preschool, or their meticulously planned birthday event next weekend, or whether West should begin eating cereal now.
Finally, he moved on to more important topics: sex-talking to me in a dirty, filthy way that turned me the fuck on.
Another thing that caught my eye was that most of the men here waxed their chests. With age, I’d developed a pretty good coating of fur. How often did I have to get waxed to keep a bare chest? Did I have to do it myself or was it better to pay someone? What did that cost look like? Did waxing really hurt like they said it did?
Then Dash gave me the come-hither look, stripping off his dress shirt. I liked that move a lot, and barely laughed when he carefully placed it on his seat. Some things never changed.
We were back to the hither, Dash was on me. His hands slid over my chest, roaming freely. I locked my arm around his waist, drawing him tightly against my body. The music popped as we took it to a sultry sway. What a great experience. I understood why the club required all the privacy paperwork before accessing the fun environment.
“Drink,” Dash encouraged, tilting us toward the table to gather my cocktail glass. He pressed it to my lips as his palm rubbed the length of my hard cock. When I took the glass to keep it from trailing down my chest, he lifted on his toes to press those plump lips against my ear. I wished he’d whispered something to do with fucking me senseless, but he didn’t. The music was too loud, and he required help to stay on his tiptoes. “I love you. We should get a membership here.”
Right. He and I had recently set a budget for our finances. I didn’t know, because he didn’t let me know, but suspected cash was tight. He worried endlessly about the cost of a good private school for the kids. Based on what we were seeing, he and I weren’t Reservations nightclub wealthy. “You think?”
His face came within inches of mine, hands on each shoulder to stay steady. “I think you’re the hottest guy here.”
I burst out a laugh right in his face then tried my hand at the compliment. “You’re the hottest guy here.”
Something raced over his expression. His body went still. “That means you think I’m old, don’t you?”
What? Wait. Did that mean he thought I was old? Fuck, I halted movement too. Dammit. Old was a gay man’s nightmare. My eyes narrowed, taking a closer look at my husband who might be divorced on our nineteenth anniversary. Was this one of his workarounds? A devious trap that I regularly fell for? He was master level good at those.
“Why aren’t you answering?” he slurred and tipsy swayed until I righted his position.
“How do I answer? Of course you’re not old. You’re still the hot guy that made me tumble over my handlebars.” I gave a single nod, proud of my off-the-cuff response. “Do you think I’m old?”
“Yeah,” he said as if the answer was obvious. “Of course you are. You have to know that.”
Divorce proceedings began to take shape. My chest bumped him several steps away into other dancers. I glared my meanest look, which he found hilarious.
“I’m younger than you, lawyer-man.” I let out a shout loud enough to draw stares, which only made Dash cackle like a damned hyena.
“By eleven months,” Dash said, sashaying closer with a wink and a twist. “If we weren’t older…” The beat dropped to a thumping anthem making Dash have to climb my body to say what he wanted me to hear. I didn’t give a single inch of height to help him reach my ear. “We wouldn’t be celebrating our nineteenth anniversary if we weren’t old!”
Then, in a daring move, his tongue darted straight into my ear, swirling there until reaching the outer edge. His tongue lapped around the shell. He reared maybe an inch away, puffing a teasing breath over the skin he’d just made wet.
“I want another hundred more years.” He caressed my cheek with his palm, tilting me so he better captured my lips, kissing me roughly. Instantly, tongue and teeth battled for domination.
As suddenly as he stole the kiss, he edged back, our gazes colliding. Those mesmerizing blue depths held me captive, waiting for whatever he wanted to reveal. “You ready to go to our room?”
Always. But that thought stayed locked in my head. Instead, I nodded and kept him firmly in my hold. I gathered our clothes, tossing them one right after another toward Dash. He scrambled to keep each article from hitting the floor. I extended my hand above my head in hopes of gaining our waiter’s attention. Dash had other plans, clasping my arm and darting stealthily through the maze of dancers, ending at the bar.
He paid, of course. I never did, although we shared accounts. Our walkout was just like any other… Dash strutted ahead of me, pulling me along like his loyal sidekick. But this time, Dash didn’t hold all my attention. The scenery was seriously handsome men. I’d never been around this many gay men in my life. I might not ever think about life in the same way again.
Once we made it to the hotel’s hallway, the soft, bright lighting was blinding. “What did it cost?” I asked. The handhold we shared swapped hands when Dash turned to face me, walking backward now.
“Guess?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” I said, exaggerating my answer.
Dash slowed his roll and cocked a brow. “Four hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
I rooted in my spot. Dinner was charged to the room. That alone was a few hundred dollars. “Six hundred dollars for the drinks we had at the club?”
“Yeah,” Dash grunted, finding something funny. He tugged at my hand to get me moving again. I reluctantly did.
Damn, that dumb club looked a lot less appealing now. Membership was out of the question if a single night of drinks cost that much.
“So this weekend’s costin’ us a couple of thousand dollars?”
Dash let out a hearty laugh. I didn’t find the joke.
“I’ve got my work cut out for me next year. Topping this anniversary won’t be easy,” he said, and I couldn’t help the unguarded tsk at the very idea. First, we weren’t having additional anniversary celebrations because I just spent all the money from now until forever. Second, everything Dash did was over-the-top. Him trying to beat this one meant we’d have reservations on the first flights to the moon and back. As a family, we took family vacations all over the country. This year, the girls’ birthday party was on a seven-day Disney cruise with our entire family. That was scheduled a mere four days after we returned from this anniversary weekend. Dash promised me the cruise was my mom’s idea, and she was paying, but I didn’t believe that lie. He’d never let someone else pay for us, he envisioned it as his job.
Dash created our epic family gathering and parties, not for bragging rights or to constantly outdo himself, he genuinely wanted to create lasting memories while building a solid loving base for our family. He was good at it even if I did have to bring my lunch everyday… I was dumb. Such a cheap way to save a little bit of money.
“You’ll crack that code, I’m sure,” I said, dragging my feet while Dash practically pulled me along. His ass was still a thing of beauty. The extra weight he’d gained—nothing crazy, a few extra pounds here and there—only made the way he filled out his clothes better. His ass was a double gripper, the perfect bubble butt.
At the elevator doors, he pressed the button, and said, “Can we go up—” He turned to me, dislodging my stare, drawing me out of my daze.
“What’d you say?”
“Were you just checking out my backside?” Dash teased, flipping around for me to look again. And I did. Watching him might be my favorite pastime.
“That baby blazer you wore lets me see both the front and back. A bold strategy since I’m a sure thing.” I shrugged because it was the truth.
“You’re making this trip to the room harder than it has to be, Casanova,” Dash said, walking into me, tilting his face up for a smooch. “I wanted to spend time with you in the room, talking, just being together while alone and uninterrupted.” He caressed my cheek, his thumb skimming my lower lip until the ding of the elevator startled him, sending his thumb directly into my eye.
I shoved him into the open car, not hard but enough, rubbing my inverted eyelashes from underneath the lid. Whatever about quiet time. My guy drank too much and was feeling the high. We only had so long before he crashed, passing smooth out.