Chapter 14 – Mindy
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sex isn’t everything, right?
Mindy
THREE YEARS LATER
Closing the door quietly, I put my purse down on the whitewashed cabinet beside our front door and strip off my blouse. I drop it on the sky-blue rug and step out of my heels as I cross the room, shucking my bra and letting it fall before I round the corner to the kitchen.
And there he is, standing at the stovetop, stirring what smells like spaghetti sauce. He’s wearing charcoal-gray pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Roger McCoy… my future husband. He’s the banker I met when I went to close Mama’s account that day.
I never did use his card to call him back, but after I got the job as the bank manager’s admin, Roger stopped by my office each day to say hi.
He asked me out for an entire year before I finally relented.
We dated for only six months when he proposed, but I turned him down. Some unknown force held me back from accepting his proposal. If I really put my mind to it, I could probably figure out the reason why, but I’m a chickenshit in denial, so I didn’t. I simply told him it was too soon.
When he proposed again eight months later, I said yes. Roger is a good man, not exactly a tiger in the bedroom, but I do what I can to keep things spicy.
Including now when I tiptoe across the room and grab a couple of handfuls of his butt. Roger jumps and turns around with a laugh, his eyebrows lifting when he takes in my state of undress. “Did you go to the store like that?” he teases, turning back to stir the sauce again.
Disappointment runs through me at the lackluster response, and I take away his wooden spoon and place it on the spoon rest. Pressing my body against his, I wrap my arms around his neck. “No, I’ve just been thinking about how hot my fiancé is, and I decided to cool myself off as soon as I got home.”
“Babe, maybe—”
I cut him off with a kiss. A steamy, lusty press of my lips to his, working my tongue against the seam of his mouth until he opens for me.
When he hardens against my stomach, a sense of feminine triumph replaces the earlier disappointment.
I deepen the kiss, moaning loudly into his mouth when his hands go to my waist. It’s been almost two weeks since we’ve had sex, and I’m needy.
He pulls back far too soon and rests his nose against mine. “Mindy, you look gorgeous, but—”
This time he’s cut off by a throat clearing behind me. I whirl around, forgetting that I’m topless until I see my future mother-in-law standing in the arched doorway. Letting out a little squeak, I grab a dish towel and attempt to cover my ample breasts with it.
“Rose! Oh, my goodness!” My laugh sounds fake as hell. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“So sorry to interrupt,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she lifts my bra and shirt in her hands.
That kind of ticks me off, to be honest. She obviously saw the trail of clothes and probably heard my moans, and she chose to come into the kitchen anyway.
“Here you go, dear.” She strolls across the taupe-and-navy tiled floor and holds out my garments.
I take them with one hand and slink into the pantry to redress since it appears my seduction attempts have been thwarted. For now. I’m getting some sex tonight if I have to tie Roger to the bed and sit on him. Hmm. That actually doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.
I’m definitely more adventurous in the bedroom than Roger. I’m lucky if I get missionary twice a week, but it’s fine. Sex isn’t everything, right? At least he’s a good man, and would never in a million years cheat on his bride.
My fiancé works hard at the bank while also trying to help his widowed mother around her house. He’s generally so worn out by the time he gets home most evenings, he doesn’t have much energy for me.
That will all change in four days. We will be married and headed to our honeymoon in Aruba, where we’ll have all the time in the world to reconnect and fuck like bunnies. He’s going to go friggin’ nuts when he sees all the sexy lingerie I plan to wear.
Straightening my top, I exit the pantry and paste on a smile. “Rose, so sorry about that. You made such a handsome son that sometimes I just can’t help myself.”
She gives me a simpering little smile before turning to Roger and pinching his cheek. “My sonny boy certainly is handsome.”
Sonny boy laughs and swats her hand away. “Cut it out, Mom.” He reaches for the spoon and scoops up some sauce, offering her a taste. “Does this need anything?”
“Hmmm,” she hums, smacking her lips before rummaging through the spice cabinet. “More oregano, I think.” She proceeds to dump half the bottle into the saucepan and then tastes it again before declaring it perfect.
It looks like Rose will be joining us for dinner—a fact I wished I’d known before doing a damn striptease through the house—so I take down three plates, grab silverware, and head to the dining room.
Twenty minutes later, the three of us are sitting around the table, and I’m trying to choke down the oregano-laden meal.
“So, Rose. How have you been doing?” I ask, taking a sip of my sweet tea. I like my future mother-in-law. She’s petite, with a short blonde hairdo that’s slowly turning gray, and she kindly welcomed me into her family from the first time we met.
Rose tilts her head and sets her fork on her plate, but before she can speak, Roger breaks in.
“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about, babe.” He pats his mom’s hand. “Mom has been really down these past couple of months.” That’s understandable. We just passed the four-year mark of his father’s death.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?
” My mind starts whirling with ideas. I can take Rose along on Friday when Caroline, Erica, and I go to get our nails done for the wedding.
She’s good with flowers, so I’d already planned to take her with me to finalize things with the florist tomorrow, but perhaps she’d like to have brunch afterward as well.
“That’s so sweet of you, Mindy. My darling son did have an idea.” She blinks adoringly at Roger.
He takes my hand, kissing my knuckles. “Babe, this really isn’t a good time for us to leave Mom alone while we run off to Aruba.”
My mouth drops open as my stomach plummets. “You want to put off the wedding?” Holy shit, it would be a nightmare to reschedule everything and fight with vendors about transferring deposits to a later date.
“Of course not,” my fiancé says, his smile gentle as he gives my hand a squeeze.
Relief rolls down my spine for a brief second until I remember his comment: Babe, this really isn’t a good time for us to leave Mom alone while we run off to Aruba.
“But you don’t want to go on the honeymoon.” My words come out as cold as my insides feel.
He tilts his head to the side, looking so much like his mother. “I called the travel agent today to see if we could postpone it, but since it’s so close to our travel date, they refused to let us move it.”
He’d called the travel agent without even discussing it with me first? The cold inside me turns suddenly into a raging inferno, and it takes everything in me to maintain a civil tongue.
“I don’t think I’m understanding here.”
Roger grasps his mother’s hand so that he’s holding onto both of us. “Mom’s going with us. Won’t that be nice?” He smiles at me.
Nice? Fucking NICE? Not exactly the word I would use.
Not wanting to make a scene in front of his mother—because yes, there is going to be a scene—I look directly into my fiancé’s eyes, trying to convey that this is most definitely not nice. Shit, it’s not even okay.
“Why don’t we discuss this later?” I say pointedly.
He releases our hands and goes back to eating like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on me, but my appetite has dried up completely.
“Okay, babe,” he says easily. “I have all the paperwork in my office. We can look it over after dinner.”
Two hours later, my rage hasn’t subsided a bit. Rose left, after insisting on cleaning up the kitchen, and Roger walks out of his office and places a folder on the glass coffee table.
“Here’s the updated honeymoon info. I made sure to book Mom’s cabana away from ours so we could have our privacy.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Is he fucking kidding me right now?
Standing from the couch, I fist my hands on my hips. “Roger, you should have talked to me about this. You booked your mother to go with us on our honeymoon without even having a discussion with me?”
He looks taken aback. “I’m sorry, babe. I wanted to check with the travel agent to see if we could change the dates before I brought it up to you. When she told me it was a no-go, I had the idea to just bring Mom along.” His shoulders lift in a nonchalant shrug.
I wonder if my face shows even a hint of the disbelief I’m feeling right now. “It’s. Our. Honeymoon,” I grit out, and he takes me in his arms, swaying us back and forth.
“I know, sweet girl. It’s not like she’ll be sharing a room with us or anything. It will be fine.”
Burying my face in his chest, I inhale the clean, woody scent of his cologne. “But it’s supposed to be time just for us. We haven’t had much of that lately. You’re always so tired when you get home since you spend hours at your mother’s after work.”
Roger stiffens and takes a step back, releasing me from the comfort of his embrace. “You think I wanted my mom to be widowed? You think this is fun for me?”
Instantly feeling guilty, I reach out and stroke his arm. “No, Roger. I know it’s not, but I was really looking forward to having you all to myself.”
“Well, circumstances change. I’m doing the best I can here.” He rubs his temples with his fingertips, a sign that he’s feeling stressed out.
I’m really trying not to be a bitch, but he’s making me feel like one. “If you’re worried about Rose being alone, why can’t she stay with your brother for a week?”
He shakes his head. “No can do. Aiden and Amy are leaving the day after our wedding for a second honeymoon, remember? Their five year anniversary is next week.”