Untitled Chapter
I feel it before she says a word. Zaria’s body shifts beside me. Not fear. Not grief this time.
Interest.
Her fingers tighten around mine, but not in panic. Her breathing changes. Softer and measured. I know my wife. I know every micro expression. The subtle lift of her chin. The way her pupils widen when something catches her attention.
The beautiful woman standing across from us would catch anybody’s attention.
Plus size brown skin glowing against the cream duvet. Wide hips hugged by fitted jeans. A cropped sweater stretching over generous breasts. Full lips set in a pout that is equal parts annoyance and confidence.
She crosses her arms as sass radiates off her like heat from the fireplace.
“There’s no way we’re double booked,” she says, chin tipped up. “Y’all must have the wrong cabin.”
Her voice is rich. Honey with an edge.
If it was the wrong cabin, we wouldn’t be standing inside it I think to myself.
“If it was wrong,” I reply far less assholish than I did mentally seconds prior as I slip my free hand into my coat pocket, “the door code wouldn’t have worked.”
Her jaw tightens.
And then a voice comes from her phone.
She glances at the screen and her expression flickers. Annoyance softens into something almost hopeful. She turns slightly away but we still hear enough.
A deep male voice bleeds through the speaker. Apologizing. Saying he had to cancel last minute. His kids come first.
The call ends quickly.
The shift in her is immediate. Shoulders stiff. Chin drops just a fraction. Embarrassment blooms across her face in a flush that creeps up her neck.
Ah.
This was a cozy getaway for two but now it’s a date with disappointment for one. Zaria sees it too. I feel her empathy rise like a tide. That softness in her that built Soleil’s Sanctuary from grief and grit.
I decide to give the woman an out.
“I’m gonna call the concierge,” I say, stepping back toward the hallway. “See what went wrong.”
Outside the bedroom I exhale slowly. I make the call. The concierge sounds frazzled before I even explain. System glitch. Inventory error. The cabin showed available when it wasn’t and the resort is fully booked for a winter wellness conference.
Of course it is.
By the time I hang up I’m amused and annoyed. Amused at the circumstances that feel like Lena’s doing and annoyed at the resorts bullshit excuse.
When I walk back into the living area, the energy has completely changed. Zaria and the mystery woman are sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Laughing.
Laughing.
The woman gestures animatedly about something. Zaria throws her head back and the melodic sound of her amusement fills the cabin. They look comfortable. Curious.
My wife is glowing.
And yes. She is a little turned on.
I clock it instantly. The way her thighs press together. The way she keeps looking the woman over like she’s studying art.
I can’t blame her.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” I announce, leaning against the doorway, “but there was a system glitch and the Cabin showed available even though it was booked.”
They both roll their eyes in perfect unison.
“Bullshit,” they say together.
I chuckle.
“The resort is booked solid,” I continue. “It seems we have three options. We stay here as roomies. We leave. Or she leaves.”
The woman arches a brow. Zaria mirrors her.
Neither of them hesitate.
“I’m not leaving,” Zaria says.
“I’m not leaving either,” the woman adds.
The synchronization is almost eerie.
I nod slowly. “Guess we’re roomies then.”
That earns me twin smirks. I push off the wall and step forward, offering my hand to the woman first.
“Calil Black.”
She takes it firmly with a confident grip.
“Ember Franklin.”
I glance back at my wife, pride swelling in my chest like it always does when I look at her.
“And this is my wife, Zaria.”
Wife.
I never get tired of saying that. Ember’s gaze flickers between us, curiosity sharpening.
“Well,” she says, lips curving, “this should be fun. I mind my business and don’t bother anyone. It was supposed to a romantic getaway but dating a man with kids when you have none is always a toss-up.”
I nod because something tells me this trip to Aspen is about to be a lot more than rest and relaxation. I squeeze Zaria’s hand once before heading toward the door.
“Let me grab our bags from the truck,” I tell them. “Get settled. If you have anything you need me to bring in, point me to your car and hit the locks.”
She thanks me and pops her trunk.
As I step out into the cold mountain air, I shake my head while half laughing to myself.
Aspen was supposed to be simple. Fireplace. Wine. Late mornings in bed. Quiet talks about babies and blueprints and the future we’re building brick by brick. Lovemaking in every square inch of the cabin. The spark in my wife’s eyes says she’s not mad about it at all.
We just met Ember and I watched my wife react in real time.
It was subtle. Zaria’s not always obvious with her desire.
She’s controlled but I know her body like scripture.
The slight flare of her nostrils. The way her voice dropped half an octave when she said we weren’t leaving.
The way her thighs pressed together when Ember laughed.
My lips curve. I’m not threatened. More than anything, I am intrigued.
There was no jealousy in me. No territorial heat.
Just curiosity. Because what I saw in Zaria’s eyes was not lust alone.
It was recognition. Possibility. A door cracking open to something neither of us have dared to touch since her passing.
We said we would focus on grief. On rebuilding closeness. On finding our new normal before even thinking about adding anyone else to our dynamic.
We meant that, but life has a funny way of showing us we’re ready to move forward.
I shut the trunk and glance back at the cabin. Warm light glows through the windows. I can see their silhouettes moving inside. Two women laughing like they have known each other longer than ten minutes.
Something in my chest settles instead of tightens.
I carry the bags toward the door, my boots leaving deep impressions in the snow. When I step back inside, the heat wraps around me again. Zaria looks up first.
There it is.
That spark. I haven’t seen that with another woman since Lena.
Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes bright. She looks alive in a way that has nothing to do with Aspen air. Ember is telling some story about a disastrous date with animated hands flying. Zaria’s laughter fills the space again.
“Truck’s cleared,” I say.
Zaria stands and walks toward me, sliding her hand into mine like she always does. Her pulse is racing. I feel it beneath my thumb.
“We’ll take the room on the left,” she tells Ember casually. “We’ll stay out of your way.”
Ember smirks. “Please. I welcome the company. Just let me know if I’m being an unwanted third wheel.”
My wife smirks right back.
Oh, this is going to be something. We head toward our room with our luggage. The door closes behind us with a soft click. The quiet is immediate.
Zaria turns to me with eyes dancing with desire.
“What?” she asks knowing exactly what.
I step closer, slow and deliberate.
“You good?” I murmur as my hand slides between her legs to find the evidence of just how good she is.
She nods once. “I’m good.”
But I can still see the imprint of that reaction on her skin. The heightened awareness. The electricity humming just beneath the surface.
I lean down and press my lips to her temple, breathing her in. This trip was meant to recharge us and somehow in the most unexpected way, it already has. As I unzip the suitcase and start pulling out our things, I catch her watching me now.
Mirroring.
Matching.
My wife is curious.
I can’t wait to talk to her about it. About the way her body reacted. About the way mine did too.
Because if this is the beginning of a conversation we once thought was too dangerous to have—I want it to be honest.
I glance at her over my shoulder with a slow grin spreading across my face.
Aspen just got very interesting.
And I have a feeling this cabin is about to change more than our vacation plans.