Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
STARLING
T he next morning, I wake from a dream featuring Christian, his motorcycle, and some kinky side-of-road sex, the grin on my face so wide it hurts a little.
“I did it, guys,” I tell the animals, who are back in bed with me again, making me wonder if I’ll be able to get Kyle back on the floor in his bed when we return home tonight. “I am now a fully-fledged sex goddess with a well-fucked vagina.”
Keanu gargles thumbtacks deep in his throat—Barrett should get that growl checked by the vet again, it sounds like it’s getting worse—and Kyle emits an outraged gobble.
“Too bad,” I say, lifting my arms over my head for a luxurious, full-body stretch. “I don’t care if you don’t like that kind of talk. I’m going to say ‘vagina’ as much as I want and have as much sex as I want and not think about how sad I’m going to be when Christian takes his cock away. Like my mama always said—don’t ruin the present with worry about the future. Now, who wants breakfast?”
Kyle hits me in the face with his wing in his haste to get to the door and Keanu leaps off the edge of the bed with a flourish of his hairless tail. They might not like my sex talk, but my excitement for the day ahead is clearly contagious.
By eight-thirty, they’ve already had breakfast and are chasing each other around the yard, making such a ruckus, I’m not surprised when Nora’s head appears over the side of the fence.
“Morning,” I say, lifting my coffee her way from my spot on the back porch. “Sorry, are they being too loud? Did they wake you?”
“Oh no, I’ve been up for a while,” she says. “But they let me know that you were up. Can I come over for a quick second? I have something I want to show you.”
“Totally,” I say, standing. “Meet me in the kitchen, I’ll grab you a cup of coffee.”
I head inside, but Nora’s so quick I barely have time to fetch a mug from the cabinet before she’s joined me by the sink. As usual, she looks flawless, her hair falling in perfect glossy waves and her outfit quirkily adorable. Today, she’s wearing what looks like a vintage long-sleeved miniskirt dress with a swirling pattern of fall colors paired with knee-high brown boots. I, meanwhile, am still in my pajamas and haven’t gotten around to googling a dry cleaner who takes costume pieces.
“I’m going to get the princess dress dry-cleaned, by the way,” I say as I pour her a mug of coffee from the French press. “I’ll take it in on Monday and hopefully have it back to you by Friday.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, I can wash it by hand, I have a method,” she says. “I’ll just take it with me when I go.”
“No, I insist,” I say. “I got it all dusty at the fair and I like to clean up my own messes.”
I also tossed it on the floor last night in a fit of passion, and have plans to wear it again tonight, but I’m not going to tell her about that part. I’d love to chat with someone about last night, but I know how easily gossip can spread in this town. Mine and Christian’s best chance of keeping our steamy liaisons a secret from our families is keeping them a secret from everyone else while we’re at it.
“Well, thank you,” she says. “I recommend Mancini’s. They do a great job with larger items and always have a coupon code for a discount on their website.” She pulls in a breath and releases it through pursed lips. “Now, I need to ask you something important.”
“Okay.” I lean back against the counter, refreshed coffee in hand. “What’s on your mind?”
“Is there a chance, no matter how small, that Matty might be involved in something shady?”
“Shady,” I repeat. “Like what?”
“Like…connections to the mob type of shady?” she asks, hurrying on as my jaw drops. “I know, I’m probably crazy, but on my way home last night, I saw his SUV parked behind The Cupcake Factory. He was just sitting there, staring at the back door, like he was waiting for someone to come out and talk even though it was already closed for the night.”
I shake my head. “And?”
“The Cupcake Factory is a mob cover business,” Nora says, like she’s stating the sky is blue or Kyle is the most adorable pet turkey ever.
Like it’s something I should have already known and taken for granted.
“What?” I squeak. “Since when? I thought Cassie Ann Sweetwater owned that place. Isn’t she like…a gazillion years old?”
“She is,” Nora confirms. “And she has connections to the mob going back at least three generations. From what I’ve heard from Gram, Cassie’s taken things in a gentler direction since she came to power—they mostly traffic in stolen designer goods these days, not stolen people or drugs—but a mob boss is still a mob boss and not someone Matty should be getting involved with. Seeing him there, with a hat and glasses on even though it was nearly dark…it made my trouble senses tingle.”
“Huh.” I chew on that for a moment while I take a swallow of my coffee. “I honestly have no idea, but I could feel Christian out about it at work tomorrow. I know he’s been worried about Matty for various reasons, but I didn’t get the feeling it was about anything that serious. I thought Chris was just worried about him racing cars and planning to live in a van while he travels South America for a few years.”
Nora’s brow furrows. “He’s going to South America? For years ?”
“Yeah, he’s leaving in a couple months I think, getting out of town before the winter weather hits.” I give her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry. If I’d known Matty McGuire was the Matty you liked, I could have warned you. He’s a cutie and always seemed like a cool guy, but he’s probably not looking for anything serious or long term.”
Nora sighs. “Yeah, I figured. That’s my luck with men. And he didn’t seem happy when I pulled up beside him last night behind the bakery. He couldn’t get rid of me fast enough, in fact. I thought it was because he was worried about me interfering with his mob meeting but maybe he felt like I was getting clingy or something. He didn’t text me after the fair, either. Even though he said he would, so…”
I wince on her behalf. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know what’s wrong with the men around here. If I were a dude, I would be camped out in your front yard with flowers and hot caramel lattes every day, hoping you’d give me a chance to date you. You’re the total package.”
Her lips curve in a doubtful smile. “Yep, the whole package. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old woman who still lives with her grandmother, can barely drive without hitting some innocent, non-moving object, and who has a crippling fear of animals.”
“You’re also smoking hot, generous, fun, creative, and kind,” I say. “And guys like it when they’re better than you at something. Your future boyfriend can take pride in being the best driver in the relationship. It’ll make him feel better about the fact that you’re a wildly successful businesswoman and the most fashionable human in Minnesota, if not the world.”
Nora giggles behind the rim of her mug, swallowing her gulp of coffee before saying, “Thanks. You’re right. I do have plenty to offer. If Matty McGuire doesn’t see that, he’s not worth my time.” She shrugs. “And if he’s tangled up in the mob, that’s none of my business. I’ll stick to living my best life and buying cupcakes from Stone Bowl Bakery and hope he leaves town before he gets on the wrong side of Cassie Ann’s people.”
I lift a fist in the air. “That’s the spirit. But I will do a little checking around, just in case. I owe it to Christian to let him know if his brother is getting involved with dangerous people.”
Nora cocks her head to one side. “Yeah? Because he’s your employee and friend? Or because, after your flirting yesterday, he’s…something more?”
I snort out a laugh. “Nah, we’re just going to stay friends, turns out. And coworkers. That’s it.”
“Okay. If you say so,” Nora says. “But in my experience, men don’t fake being drunk to get you away from other men unless they’re interested in being more than your friend.”
“You could tell he was faking?”
She gives a little roll of her eyes. “Oh, yeah. I mean, he was playing the part just fine, but he didn’t smell like alcohol, not even a little bit. After growing up with my parents, I know what a drunk smells like. And that they don’t sober up as fast as Christian seemed to once he got behind the bar.”
I hesitate, but can’t resist asking, “So is that why you and your brother moved in with your grandmother when you were little?” I don’t remember when Nora and her older brother moved to town—I was still a baby—but she was in some of Wren’s elementary school classes growing up. And I dimly remember my mom being worried about the Boudreaux kids.
“Yeah,” Nora says. “My dad went on a bender and left Mom alone with us for weeks. Mom had been doing her best to get sober, but being abandoned was hard on her. She started drinking again, fell asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand, and nearly burned the house down. My brother Aaron and I carried her out in time, but it was a close call. Aaron was only ten and I was barely seven and Mom was heavy.”
I wince. “Oh man. I’m so sorry, Nora.”
“Yeah. It was scary.” Her gaze grows distant as she adds, “It scared Mom, too. That’s why she sent us to Gram. She said she’d get her act together and we’d move back in with her and Dad soon. She visited us a lot the first few years, but she was still drinking and struggling to hold down a job. The visits started getting fewer and farther between and then…she was gone for good.”
“Wow,” I murmur. “Did you guys ever patch things up? Like, once you were an adult?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen either of my parents in over a decade. I’m not even sure if they’re still alive.”
“Ugh, I’m so sorry, Nora,” I say again, my heart hurting for her. “I mean, I haven’t seen my dad since I was too little to remember it, but at least I know he’s alive and well, living his best life with his second batch of kids in Florida.”
Nora’s lips turn down at the edges. “But that’s hard, too. To know your dad stuck around for some of his kids, but not for you and Wren. At least I can take comfort in the fact that my parents were garbage at all relationships, not just the ones with their children.”
“You have a point,” I say. “But I’ve never worried about it too much. My mom is the best. One parent like her is worth three normal parents, and I’ve never missed having a dad. Can’t miss what you never had, right?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe you can. I miss my sexy boyfriend who comes roaring up to my house on his motorcycle and takes me skinny-dipping at his secret swimming hole by the lake. The one who tells me that I work too hard and should take some time off to finish all my half-completed art projects while he pays the bills for a while. He’s pretty groovy.”
I echo her sigh. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Not the art project stuff because I have zero art skills, but the motorcycle and skinny-dipping part.” Making a mental note to add an outdoor adventure of some kind to the role-playing list, I step back to peer through the window set into the back door, checking on Kyle and Keanu. “Want to help me give Keanu a bath?” I ask Nora. “He rolled in something nasty by the fence, and I want to make sure he’s nice and clean before Barrett and Wren get home this afternoon. Might be a good chance to work on feeling more comfortable with animals.”
Nora squinches her face as she sets her now empty mug in the sink. “I know I should, but that would involve a lot of touching Keanu in places I’m not sure he wants to be touched, and I’m not ready for that just yet. We’ve come a long way since he tried to kill me for making scrambled eggs in his presence, but baby steps forward still feel best.”
I smile. “I honestly don’t think he wanted to kill you. He just wanted your eggs. He was a psycho about jumping up on things when Barrett first adopted him, but I hear you. Baby steps are still good steps. Oh, and speaking of steps, would you want to go to cardio boot camp class with me Wednesday night at the high school? It’s supposed to be a great workout and I could use a fitness buddy. I always find an excuse to skip working out and eat popcorn and watch movies with Kyle instead.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Nora says, moving toward the door. “I need a workout buddy, too. We could also check out Carolina’s yoga class early Friday before you head to work, maybe. She’s a great teacher.”
I purse my lips, fighting a wave of jealousy at the thought of spending time with another woman Christian’s slept with. Now that I know just how fun being naked with him is, I’m even more jealous of his former—and future—lovers than I used to be.
But I can’t let my envious side show or Nora will put two and two together to draw “I’m sleeping with my brother-in-law” conclusions. So, I settle for humming uncertainly under my breath and saying, “Let me get back to you on that. By Friday I usually want to squeeze in every last bit of sleep I can before I head to work, but I might be up for it.”
I show Nora out and head back to the yard, calling Keanu in for his bath while Kyle pouts on the deck, annoyed by being left out of the bath time fun. Kyle’s a surprisingly good swimmer, but he makes a huge mess in the bathtub, something I found out the hard way when I left the door cracked in the bathroom at home and he decided to bust in and join me for a soak a few weeks back.
I love Kyle, but I’m not on board with being naked with my pets.
Being naked with pets…
Hmm…
The thought reminds me of Christian and how sexy he looked wearing nothing last night while holding Bella. That, in turn, reminds me of the whole “butt hair” situation and I waste twenty minutes online after Keanu’s bath researching the butt hair status of the average adult male.
When I’m done, I let Kyle in to fuss over his now fabulous-smelling puppy friend and shoot Christian a text— You’ll be glad to know your butt hair situation is completely normal. I have employed my mad search engine skills on your behalf. You’re welcome.
Just a few seconds later, he responds with, Thank God. I was really worried. How can I ever repay you for this newfound peace of mind?
Kinky sex sounds good , I shoot back, my chest fluttering with a mixture of anxiety and delight.
I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to tease him about kinky sex, let alone have some later tonight, but that’s what our relationship is all about. We’re about experimentation, play, and testing our limits. If I don’t like the kinky stuff, I have no doubt Christian would stop the second I expressed my discomfort.
But I also suspect it will be a lot easier to slip into my role as “naughty wife” than I might assume. One kiss from my oh-so-delicious sex mentor, and my inhibitions crumble faster than the day-old scone I had for breakfast this morning.
Your wish is my command, he replies, making the butterflies in my chest flap their wings a little harder. Any idea what time you want me at the shop tonight.
On second thought, let’s do the shed behind my place, I reply . As long as we stay out there and don’t go inside it shouldn’t count as a rule violation, right?
And I’m pretty sure I can make my shed pretty fabulous by tonight. I’ve already been working on fixing it up to use as an office, exercise, and guest room. This could be just the kick in the rear I need to move that project along a little.
Sounds fine to me, Christian says, I’ll park a couple streets over and walk so no one sees my truck parked in your driveway, though. Just in case.
Smart! Is five too early? I ask. Despite my recent satisfaction, I find myself already quite eager to have my way with you again.
If I had my way, you’d be on my dick right now, he shoots over so fast it makes my head spin a little. I’d be sucking your nipples while you straddled me on my couch and rode me as hard and fast, or slow and easy as you wanted. I’d want you to be in control. Just in case you were sore from last night.
Blowing a breath through my lips, I pace the living room, fanning myself with Wren’s flannel pajama catalogue.
Damn, this man…
Just a few lines of text and he has me ready to break all our rules. But Barrett and Wren will be home soon, and I can wait until tonight.
I won’t like it, but I can do it.
I’m a little sore, I reply, but nothing that’s going to slow me down. See you at five then, good husband? I’ll bring a picnic in case we’re hungry after the fun.
See you then, naughty wife. He shoots over a smirking emoji and then— And remember, if I smell another man on you, you’re going to be punished. I won’t let my wife make a fool out of me and get away with it. I’ll have to spank you and tease you and make you come so hard that you forget all about the man you were with before.
Grinning and tingling and enjoying this game way more than I probably should, I say, I don’t know. The man I was with last night was pretty incredible. You’re going to have to bring your A game to top his performance.
I always bring my A game, woman, he says. Especially for that sweet little pussy of yours. I can’t wait to be inside you again, Starling.
I’m pretty sure using my name violates the “pretending we’re someone else” rule, but I like it so much I don’t say a thing. I just say, Me, too. See you at five, and force myself to start cleaning the kitchen in preparation for Barrett and Wren’s return.
If I focus on cleaning and packing and then on preparations for meeting Christian, it will make the time go by faster. But I already know it won’t go by fast enough and that every minute I spend with Christian will feel like the minutes are on fast forward.
I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to something as much as I’m looking forward to being with him again. It should probably worry me, but I’m too high on sex hormones and anticipation to stress.
And I have way too much to get done.
I can’t wait to surprise my husband tonight and show him what a good pretender I can be when properly inspired…