6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Paige had barely gotten Sputnik fed when David knocked on her door. Normally, she would’ve made him sweat it out a bit before letting him in because it was fun, but she decided not to, mainly because she knew he was even more anxious about seeing Mrs. Harte after last week. Even though she hadn’t brought up the awkward encounter she’d had with Paige, that didn’t mean Mrs. Harte wouldn’t bring it up with David if she saw him.
When Paige opened the door, she was immediately grateful for being so quick to let David in. He was holding a bag in each hand—one of which bore the Panera Bread logo—and she practically dragged him inside her apartment.
“Is that broccoli cheddar soup?” she asked, sniffing the air like a bloodhound as she closed the door.
“Yes, it is.”
Ignoring the smaller, unmarked bag, Paige grabbed the one from Panera Bread out of David’s hand in an appalling display of manners and dashed to the kitchen island, leaving him behind in the hallway.
“Sorry,” she apologized as she tore open the paper bag and pulled out a couple of sandwiches, two big containers of soup, and plastic spoons. There was also a giant chocolate chip cookie, which she took the liberty of commandeering and immediately started eating.
“That’s for your dessert—” He broke off when she gave him the stink eye. “Or, it can be an appetizer,” he amended.
After making short work of the cookie, Paige picked up a plastic spoon and started in on the soup, almost before David had even sat down. “Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for letting me in so quickly.”
“You’re welcome.”
While they ate, he asked about her day, wanting to hear about it in greater detail.
“Well, along with the headache, two of my waitstaff called in sick,” Paige told him around bites of food. “Then there was a problem with the big coffee maker, so fifty small pots of coffee had to be made, and all the glassware was spotted, which meant a hundred glasses needed to be wiped down for this stupid luncheon that ended up running two hours long because their guest speaker wouldn’t shut the fuck up. So because of that, the only thing I had time to eat for lunch was a granola bar that I found in my desk, which had probably been there since the last presidential election, and I picked the wrong day to wear my flats. You’d think flats would be more comfortable than heels, but they’re not, and I was on my feet most of the day, so now everything hurts—”
“Give me your feet.”
His brusque interruption made her blink. “What?”
“Give me your feet.”
This time it was said more gently, as he motioned to his lap. Seeing that he was serious, Paige leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on his thighs. Since she wasn’t wearing any socks, it saved him the trouble of removing them and he was able to immediately begin rubbing one of her bare feet, making her eyes close in bliss.
“Where was your boss during all this?” David wanted to know.
“Well, she arrived around 10 a.m., which is pretty standard, and hung out in her office until it was time to go out to lunch and then left at 3 p.m.”
“Your boss is really shitty.”
His fingers were giving her equal amounts of pleasure and pain as he dug into her arch, and Paige’s response came out a little slow. “She is. I truly hate her. She hasn’t worked a weekend in three years and the hours she puts in during the week is about equal to what I put in for overtime. Unpaid overtime, since I’m a salaried employee.”
“So, basically you do all the work.”
She nodded.
“Why do you stay?”
“Jules asks me the same thing at least once a month. My standard answer is that I need the paycheck, although I think the real reason is because work doesn’t interfere too much with my life,” she said, before adding, “since there isn’t much in my life to interfere with.”
“What am I? Chopped liver?”
“No. But …” Paige opened her eyes, searching for the right words. “We’re temporary. This isn’t real life.”
David was shocked at how much he didn’t like hearing her say that, and his fingers stilled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole there,” she said quietly.
“No, it’s okay. And you’re right.” He kept his voice as even as he could, forcing the words out as he switched feet. “So, what happens when your job someday does interfere with ‘real life’?”
Paige didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll choose my life. And I’ll tell Linda to fuck off twice and quit.”
“Twice? Once isn’t enough?”
“Not for Jules. She made me promise that when the time comes, I have to tell Linda to fuck off, then fuck off again, before telling her I quit. Oh, and I need to have Jules on speaker phone when I do it, so she can hear it go down.”
With the mood a little lighter, David shook his head in amusement. “Does Jules know about our … arrangement?”
“Yes. In fact, she was on board from the beginning and pushed pretty hard for me to do it.”
“Really?” He found that a little surprising. “Well, Jules is very wise.”
Paige rolled her eyes at that. “She also said your plan was ‘brilliant’ and made ‘a lot of sense’. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, though.”
That was even more surprising, given how the last time he’d seen Jules a few months ago, she’d called him a ‘cock-sucking wanker’. The encounter outside Paige’s hospital room had been heated, to say the least, and Jules had made it clear she wasn’t his biggest fan. Having her whole-hearted approval now was a bit of a shock; he’d figured Jules would’ve been against Paige having any involvement with him.
“It can be our secret,” he promised.
“Thanks.”
He could tell she was starting to fade a little, and since David didn’t want her to completely crash, yet, he brought her foot rub to an end. “You look like you’re ready for that bath.”
“Oh, God, so ready,” she immediately agreed.
“Good.” He gently put her feet down and told her, “Give me fifteen minutes to get everything ready.”
“Wait, what?”
“Fifteen minutes,” he repeated, before standing up and retrieving the small, unmarked bag from the counter, then heading out of the kitchen and disappearing down the hall.
Paige sat there, slightly confused. Was he going to get her bath started for her? Almost immediately the faint sound of running water in her bathroom answered that question. She’d basically thought David was going to feed her and leave, but apparently not.
With a little time to kill while he got ‘everything ready’, she started cleaning up their dinner debris. As she was finishing, he reappeared in the kitchen.
“Come with me,” he said.
He seemed oddly excited, like a little boy, which Paige found rather endearing. Without a word she followed David to the bathroom, where he stopped in front of the closed door and demanded, “Close your eyes.”
“Oh, my God, that’s so childish.”
“I know. Do it anyway.”
With amusement—along with a long, drawn-out sigh for dramatic purposes—she obliged him. Only then did he open the door and lead her inside, positioning her where he wanted her before closing the door behind them.
“Okay. You can open your eyes,” he said.
When she did, she had to blink a few times because the lights were off. The only illumination came from several white candles of varying sizes scattered about, which also filled the small space with the rich scent of vanilla. The tub was filled with suds that smelled like lavender, mingling nicely with the candles and as she breathed it in, she could feel herself relaxing.
It felt sort of like a spa and since the candles and the bubble bath weren’t hers, David had obviously brought them. Which meant he’d put effort into this for her.
“This is great,” Paige said, her appreciation sincere. “I usually just get some suds going and that’s about it.”
“The bubble bath has ‘soothing properties’ and the Epsom salts I used will ‘ease’ your aches.”
He was clearly very proud of himself, so she rewarded him with a kiss. “Seriously, thank you. I’m going to really enjoy this.”
“Oh, I know you are,” he agreed with a hint of smugness. “Now, why don’t you get undressed and hop in?”
The suggestion gave her a moment’s pause, because this was now uncharted territory, and they both knew it.
The last person she’d undressed in front of was David, but in all their years of marriage, she’d always taken her clothes off quickly, the goal being for him to see as little as possible; the poor man had seen more of her back than anything. This time, Paige was full-on facing him, and even though he’d recently seen everything there was to see above her waist, it had been during intense make-out sessions. This would be a little different.
For starters, she actually wanted David to see her, so there was that.
Slowly, she started to undress, hoping her leisurely pace was conveying confidence and not self-consciousness to him, as each piece of clothing was carefully removed, then dropped to the floor. The simple—yet not so simple—act of revealing herself to him felt very intimate, a feeling that was enhanced in the candlelit room.
When she was down to her red lace La Perla bra and matching panties, he was gazing at her with intense, almost burning eyes, and it struck her that he’d never looked at her like this. It almost shocked her to realize this was new for David, too, and that knowledge made her smile.
As did his full-throated groan.
“Remember when I told you about the moment I looked at myself and cried, because for the first time I loved my body?” she asked him. “That was the day I decided all my cotton underwear and bras had to be thrown out. That was a good day. It meant I wanted to wear pretty things, even if it was only for me and no one else ever saw them. I went to every lingerie store I could find and went batshit crazy.”
“Well, that was a good call, because that looks smoking hot on you,” he mused, continuing to check her out for a few more seconds. Then, when his eyes had reached hers again, he said, with complete seriousness, “But I’m thinking it’s going to look even better on your floor.”
Paige tilted her head. “Did you join a frat when I wasn’t looking?”
He grinned at her, and she made him wait a second before unhooking her bra and removing it, letting it fall to the floor as if it hadn’t cost her a small fortune. Next, she pushed her panties down and stepped out of them, hoping he wouldn’t be disappointed to see that instead of waxing, she maintained a thin layer of hair down below. She’d tried waxing once and it had hurt like a motherfucker, so she’d filed waxing in a box marked ‘Thanks, but no thanks’, and vowed to never do it again. She’d then decided if she ever got with a man who wanted her to do it, her response to him would be, ‘You first’.”
“Jesus.” David released a deep breath and stared at her. “You were always beautiful, but now? I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you.”
She could see the absolute truth of his words, in his hungry expression and the slight vibration of his body as he stepped forward and took her face in his hands and kissed her. He kissed her without the finesse she’d gotten used to, and when he pulled back, his breaths were labored.
“In you go,” he told her, indicating the tub. “I’ll be right behind you.”