7. Hades
Chapter seven
Hades
I woke in a swath of early morning sunlight, with Jenny’s warm, bare body draped over mine.
The sheets pooled around her waist, exposing the smooth skin of her back.
I couldn’t resist trailing my fingertips along the curve of her spine.
She shifted with a sleepy murmur, burrowing her face into my neck.
I would give anything to stop time right now and keep my Jenny like this for eternity, naked, safe, and satisfied.
But a thump echoed from upstairs, followed by pattering footsteps. The kids were waking up. Pretty soon, one—or both—of them would come looking for their mother to get the day started.
I sighed and closed my eyes, burying my nose in Jenny’s hair. Breathing her in. I could just make out the faint scent of wedding cake clinging to her.
My foolish heart—still lovesick over this woman—coiled around the tentative hope that maybe a second chance might be on the table to rebuild our marriage and our relationship.
But deep down, I knew that wasn’t likely to happen.
Jenny and I only ended up in bed together out of habit.
After spending ten years of our lives entwined, it was all too easy to slip into the comfort of familiar patterns.
I recognized every hitch of her breath and sidelong glance she cast in my direction.
I knew what she needed, what she wanted, and a single word never had to pass her lips.
As soon as Jenny woke up, she would start making excuses. Reasoning away what we did last night and how it didn’t actually mean anything.
I had too much champagne yesterday. I wasn’t thinking straight.
It’s just sex, and it does not fix our marriage.
We had to get it out of our systems, and now we can put it behind us.
From the kitchen, a cabinet door slammed shut, followed by a flurry of loud whispers.
“Casey! Be quiet!” Mia hissed.
“I’m trying!”
“You’re going to wake up Mom.”
“But I’m hungry,” Casey protested.
I stifled a groan and carefully slid out of bed, making sure I didn’t disturb Jenny’s sleep. She made a small needy noise, snuggling into my spot on the bed, warmed by my body heat. I pulled the sheets over her and kissed her forehead.
Grabbing my jeans, I tugged them on as I ran a hand through my hair and headed for the kitchen. Mia and Casey were in their pajamas, plundering the cabinets for boxes of cereal.
“You two need to learn the definition of sleeping in on the weekend,” I said.
“Dad! You’re here!” Mia raced up to me and I bent down so she could fling her arms around my neck. “Are you going to have breakfast with us?”
My throat tightened as I hugged Mia. I missed this—living under the same roof with my kids and my wife. Seeing their bright, eager faces every morning.
“I was thinking we should surprise your mama with pancakes when she wakes up,” I said. “How does that sound?”
Mia nodded enthusiastically.
“Can we make them into shapes?”
“Smiley faces!” Casey chirped.
“And hearts!” Mia chimed in.
I laughed and rubbed her back, tousling Casey’s curls with my free hand.
“Let’s do both—a big plate of smiley faces and hearts. Your mama will love that.”
Mia and Casey milled around me like little ants as we moved through the kitchen, gathering ingredients. While I manned the stove, they stood on chairs flanking me, watching the pancake batter turn to a golden brown as it cooked.
“Something smells good in here.”
Jenny emerged from the bedroom, wearing a midnight blue silk bathrobe tied around her waist. Her hair was twisted into a messy knot on top of her head, and the makeup she’d worn yesterday had been scrubbed off, leaving her face bare.
I liked this version of Jenny, too. Whether she was dressed up for a wedding, or coming undone on my cock, or still rumpled and soft from sleep, she was beautiful in my eyes.
Mia and Casey climbed down from their perches and swarmed around her, chattering about making pancakes. She smiled fondly down at them as she listened and kissed their cheeks.
Then Jenny came up behind me and slipped her arms around my waist, brushing her lips to my shoulder.
“Good morning.”
My stomach flip-flopped at the husky rasp of her voice and the feather-light touch of her fingers, exploring my chest, flirting along the waistband of my jeans.
“If your hands keep wandering like that, mi amor,” I said. “The kids are going to eat pancakes alone, while you and I go back to bed for round two. And three.”
Jenny hummed a mischievous little laugh, skimming her palms down around my hips.
“Is that a warning or an invitation?”
When she leaned against my back, I could feel the outline of her tits and the stiff peaks of her nipples through the thin fabric of her bathrobe.
She wasn’t wearing anything else—no nightgown, no bra, and probably no panties.
Her lips met the juncture of my neck and shoulder in a lingering kiss that sent every drop of blood in my body surging straight south to my cock.
Before I could respond, the sound of a car pulled into the driveway, followed by a knock at the front door. Jenny adjusted her robe, clutching it closed over her cleavage.
“I’ll get it, honey,” I said, passing the spatula to her. “Watch the pancakes for me while I’m gone so they don’t burn, all right?”
She nodded and took my position at the stove.
When I opened the door, I found myself face to face with the biggest bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen.
“Delivery for Ms. Jenny McDaniels,” the delivery man said.
Jenny’s maiden name hit me like a splash of cold water to my face. It was bad enough to notice every time she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring anymore. But she usually hyphenated our surnames together, McDaniels-de la Cruz.
Hearing her drop my last name felt like a knife’s twist to my ribs.
I clenched my teeth, resisting the temptation to slam the door and dump the flowers in the garbage. But that wasn’t my choice to make.
“That would be me,” Jenny said.
After signing for the delivery, she accepted the flowers and plucked a small white envelope from the bouquet. I didn’t need confirmation to know who sent those roses—more roses than I could ever afford to give Jenny myself.
“Let me take a wild guess,” I said in a dry tone. “From Greyson. Thinking of you.”
When Jenny’s gaze met mine, her expression was torn with guilt.
I blew out a breath as if I’d been kicked in the stomach. Only seconds ago, I was basking in domestic bliss with my family over breakfast in the kitchen. In the blink of an eye, the moment was shattered, crumbling down around me.
“I can’t do this,” I said, my voice pained and quiet.
Jenny blinked, wide-eyed. But she said nothing. And that silence stung even more, because I wanted her to drop those damn roses and choose me, not him. The fact that she was even hesitating, considering the option of Greyson as a potential lover after spending the night with me…
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, rough with morning stubble. Rocking back on my heels, I shook my head.
“I’m such an idiot,” I huffed with a bitter laugh.
I thought she would see that we’re still good together, that the passion between us continued to burn just as hot as it did when we first met over a decade ago.
Seeing Jenny with that gigantic bouquet of roses bundled in her arms, it finally hit home.
She wasn’t my Jenny anymore.
“I’ll finish up those pancakes and then I’d better go,” I said.
“Wait, Simon,” she said, pleading.
Too late. I had already turned and walked away.
Slouched at the bar in the clubhouse, draining another bottle of whiskey dry, I lost track of time. How long had I been here? A few hours? An entire day? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
Bruiser planted his hands on the counter, fixing me with a firm look.
“Stop doing this to yourself, brother.”
“Leave me alone,” I mumbled.
“You’re a pathetic drunk.”
I shrugged, scratching at the label on the whiskey bottle with my fingernail. Bruiser glanced past my shoulder and beckoned to someone. A moment later, Ironside settled onto the bar stool next to me, wreathed in cigar smoke.
Before his marriage to Lena, Ironside endured the aftermath of an engagement gone wrong.
His fiancée walked out on him, and he was left to pick up the pieces of his broken dreams for the future alone.
He knew what it was like to face the gut wrenching realization that the woman you loved didn’t feel the same way in return.
“You only drink this much when it involves Jenny,” he said. “So, what happened?”
“Some fucker sent her a big-ass bouquet of roses this morning,” I said, my words slurring together. “More than I could ever afford. And I could see it all over her face. She was impressed. She likes him. Really likes him.”
Ironside clucked his tongue in sympathy. Bruiser pried the whiskey out of my grip.
“Hey, I wasn’t done—” I protested.
He arched an eyebrow and shook the bottle.
“It’s empty.”
“Oh.”
Bruiser deposited the bottle in the trash, then placed a protein shake in front of me.
“You need something besides alcohol in your system.”
I scowled at him.
“When did you get to be such a mother hen?”
Bruiser folded his arms, planting his feet wide.
“I wanted to put you in a headlock and pour that protein shake down your throat, whether you liked it or not. Ironside said I had to play nice.”
I snorted, grateful that at least Bruiser wasn’t treating me with kid gloves. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.
The shrill ringing of a phone made me wince and rub my temples.
“For Christ’s sake, someone answer the goddamn phone.”
Ironside reached into my cut pocket, grabbed my phone, and shoved it into my chest.
“It’s for you.”
Struggling through my alcohol-induced stupor, I squinted at the caller ID to see Jenny’s home number. I frowned and debated rejecting the call. But I couldn’t do that. Even if Jenny never loved me again, I swore a vow to be there for her. And my kids still needed me to be their dad.
“Hello?” I croaked.
“Daddy?” Mia replied in a small, trembling voice.
Alarm bells went off in my head despite my pickled brain. I pinched the bridge of my nose in an effort to focus.