20. Zee
Lifestyles of the Rich Famous - Good Charlotte
The sound of the shower coming on in the neighboring bathroom has my pruney fingers freezing on the final button of my pajama top.
Colton’s naked.
And less than twelve feet away from me.
This isn’t the time for my mind to go there, but hell if I can stop it when the spot where his lips touched earlier is still tingling.
Even after I soaked in the massive tub for nearly two hours.
Honestly, I feel like a teenager again.
A forehead kiss should not set off a giddy state in a woman my age.
But this is Colton.
My teen crush and living fantasy.
And out there, it was like time reversed itself and I felt how I did then.
I can’t stop alternating between brushing a hand over where he kissed me and staring at my wedding and engagement rings.
Unknowingly, Tee comes to my rescue and I snatch my cell when it buzzes. “Everything okay?”
“I’m not the one who’s sharing a suite with my new husband.”
She has to be down if she didn’t hear the desperation in my voice.
Not that I’m desperate.
Nope.
No, sirree.
I’m not sixteen anymore. My crush on Colt ended then.
Right?
Annoyed because my answer is less definitive than I’d like, I grouse, “Why are you whispering?”
“In case he’s there.”
I roll my eyes. “Demanding his husbandly rights?”
“Is he?”
Her squeak has me double-rolling my eyes. “Of course not.”
But… would I say no if he did?
I think about the intensity of his regard at the ceremony. The calluses on his large palm as it cupped mine. Though I’ve never been short, I’ve always felt tiny in stature around him and today was no different.
“He’s hot.”
He is.
Jesus, I don’t think I’d SAY NO IF HE CAME TO MY BEDROOM DOOR.
What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing’s changed. Not really.
“He… is attractive.”
“I forgot how hot.”
Me too.
“Spending two days in a hotel with him must be awkward.”
“I’m part of Canada’s ruling classes now, Tee,” I mock. “We’re in a suite and it’s The Manchester.”
“Ohh, the lifestyles of the rich and the famous.”
I hear her jeer and smile. “It’s like being in an apartment.”
“Fancy. Thank you for the videos by the way.”
“Just keeping you in the loop.”
“And making me jealous.”
“Yeah. Sure. You’d switch places with me.”
“Hey, I wanna be rich too.”
“Just without the husband.”
“True dat, girlfriend. I’m so pissed I couldn’t go to the wedding.”
In all honesty, I was glad she couldn’t make it.
Today was like a Pap smear—important but something to endure and definitely a task to handle alone.
“It was impersonal but pretty.”
And he tried. I have to give him that.
I even pressed two of the wildflowers from the bouquet he bought for me between the pages of Persuasion—a favorite of mine.
“Explain.”
“He took us to this club where there was a kind of greenhouse?”
“Bleugh.”
“No, not that type of greenhouse. There was no fertilizer, Tee,” I snipe. “Like an… orangery? It was ornamental. All glass. But Victorian. Very pretty. It was unexpected. I didn’t even know men’s clubs still existed.”
“Me neither. Who were your witnesses?”
“Strangers.”
At least, for me. I think the guy was Colt’s attorney, and all I know about the wife is that she channeled Cruella de Vil. Complete with the fascination for animal prints—Tee would have hated her.
“Jacobie’s such a jackass for not giving me time off. I should have pretended to be sick.”
“Like you’d keep up that subterfuge.”
She huffs. “Where’s the husband?”
“Showering.”
As soon as I whisper the words, I regret them.
“Lord above. I bet he looks sexier wet. I envy men.”
“Why?”
“They get to see themselves naked.”
I huff through a laugh. “Your logic, Tee, I swear.”
“Plus, it’s awkward using a showerhead.”
“Tee!”
“What? It’s true. Tell me it’s not.”
“You put it between your thighs, Tee, and direct the spray. You’re doing it wrong if you think that’s complicated.”
“Lot easier to have a pole in front of you that you stroke a few times.”
“Only in your brain. At least we don’t have clean-up duty afterward.”
“True. Never trust a man’s sock.”
“Thank God I was out of the house before the triplets hit puberty.”
“Ewww. Three times as many socks. They get hard and crusty?—”
“I don’t need to know this!”
She sniffs. “Knowledge is power. As you’re so invested in the IVF route, avoid Colton’s socks for the foreseeable future.”
The thought has something inside me squirming.
My gaze drifts to the wall we share.
Something changed today. I heard him shower this morning and it didn’t trigger this in me.
Is it the rings on my fingers?
The vows we spoke?
They were meaningless, surely, but that he could be rubbing one off makes my body temperature surge.
Tee distracts me yet again by mumbling, “I bet Butch Cassidy knows how to direct a showerhead.”
Butch Cassidy?
My brain takes a couple seconds to get with the program.
Her pen pal.
Right.
“Considering the government puts him in charge of tech that’s worth billions of dollars, I’d hope he can ride a showerhead.”
“Wonder what Colt’s skills are…”
“Shut up.”
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” I can hear her smirk.
“No, I’m not.”
“Sure you are. You have eyes and a libido.” Her smug tone’s irritating enough to make my teeth itch. “You brought up IVF…”
“He doesn’t want me.”
“Men will fuck anything?—”
“Gee, thanks!”
“You know what I mean.”
“What’s the game plan here?”
“No game plan. Just a genuine concern for your vagina. Pretty sure you have cobwebs in them there hills?—”
“My vagina cobwebs are my own business, thank you very much!” I heave a sigh when she snorts. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get to the ranch.”
“Hey… I miss you. It’s not the same without you.”
I bite my lip. “I know. I miss you too. Even if you do give me nothing but crap.”
“It’s my job to keep you on your toes. And to remind you that you rock. Also that you don’t have to be a good girl all the time. Hint hint.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean it. Hop on that cowboy, cowgirl.”
“Tee!”
“Go for a ride. You’ll save a horse.”
“CHRISTY!”
“Jump in the saddle?—”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Safe travels, hmm?”
“Bye, babe.”
“Night, Zee. Don’t be a stranger.”
She says that in a rush as she hangs up so I send her a message.
Me: Never. You’re stuck with me for life.
Tee: I’ll provide the super glue.
Me: :*
Homesickness is a new feeling for me. But it makes my mind veer away from Colton… until the shower switches off.
And I think about saddles.
And the fact that I am a cowgirl.
And he’s a cowboy.
And—
The water comes back on?
The hell?
Unable to stop myself, I head for the mini fridge.
If ever there was a night for cracking open the mini bar, it’s this one. I don’t care if a thing of peanuts costs forty bucks. I’ll owe Colton if he brings the charge up.
Not that I think he will.
Has he ever had to check an itemized bill in his life?
Well, outside of the ranch.
Ranchers nickel and dime like it’s a college course.
With the jar in hand, I twist it. Trying not to think about him twisting?—
“Stop it, Zee. You’re turning into Tee. Do. Not. Be. A. Pervert.”
Still, the harder I twist, the less it wants to open and the more my hand gets sweaty and the lid refuses to budge.
I tap my foot on the floor.
Stare at the connecting wall.
He’s my husband—there has to be perks to these rings I’m wearing, and gaining an official jar opener is one of them.
“He’ll be naked.”
The whispered words sound overly loud in the room.
“There might be a towel if he comes straight from the shower,” I concede.
Comes.
I stare at the jar.
Clear my throat.
Hunger surges, but it’s twofold.
One for the peanuts. The other for something I shouldn’t want.
Except, I’d be lying.
I’ve wanted to see Colton naked for a helluva long time.
This is just an old habit dying hard.
Yeah, that’s all it is.
That, of course, is when I hear a low noise.
My mouth rounds as I turn to face the wall that joins his bathroom to my bedroom.
“Was that what I think it is?!” I rasp, stepping closer.
Tee’s corruption is complete because I press my ear to the wall. When that gives me nothing, I rush to my bathroom, grab the tumbler, hold that to the wall instead, and?—
“Oh. My. God,” I whisper under my breath as I hear rhythmic grunts that can only mean he’s stroking himself.
Eyes wide, lips gaping, heat flushing through my body, I stare at nothing as I listen to the sounds of his pleasure, all the while wondering what fantasy he’s using to get himself off.
It doesn’t matter that a decade separates us. I’m sixteen again. Full of hormones I don’t know what to do with and an incessant desire to feel Colton’s stubble between my thighs.
When he comes with a groan, the corresponding desire in me takes away my hunger for peanuts.
Mouth like cotton, I gulp as I back off from the shared wall, dropping the peanuts on the nightstand and nearly smashing the fragile tumbler as it falls to the carpeted floor.
Flopping onto the bed, I can no more stop myself from sliding my hand below the waistband of my Beavis and Butthead pj’s than I can stop my lungs from transporting oxygen around my body.
My very overheated body.
“God…”