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She was all soft sweetness and hot, short pants. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I sensed hunger in her kiss too. The way her hips melted into mine, and how she went up on her toes...
I could’ve sworn she was asking for more.
I could’ve sworn she was into me making a hugely asshole move. Nice guys don’t pretend to be married. They don’t kiss their pretend wives. Definitely don’t kiss them with tongue.
Somehow, by some miracle, I managed to be gentle. It’s what I imagine she’d want in a kiss. The slow, steady sips, the warm-up that lets her know I’m taking my time. Getting to know what she likes.
But when her knee buckled, I almost lost it. For a split second I was gripped by the unhinged idea that I was literally sweeping her off her feet.
Knowing I had the power to do that felt good. If a single kiss could make her legs give out, what would an orgasm do?
I gave myself an orgasm later that night exploring the idea.
“What are you going to say to Tuck?” Riley asks. “How are you going to explain the marriage? Why now? Why Jen?”
I swallow. “She’s open-minded. Creative. She’s built a beautiful, inspiring life for herself, and that’s something I want a piece of. She’s always been kind to me. We’ve been friends forever.”
Riley arches an eyebrow. “That was quick. And suspiciously deep. Like that kiss you gave her.”
My chest tightens. I keep getting this awful sense of premonition. Like I’m in deeper than I know, and danger lies ahead.
I shove it aside. “Like I said, her ex was there. I wanted to make it abundantly clear that she’d traded up.”
Riley shakes his head and smirks. His stride slows. “Traded up. To you.”
“Fuck off.”
“I guess you are being a gentleman in your own way.”
I hold up my hands. “Never said I was a gentleman.”
“I don’t think this fake relationship is a bad idea, Abel. I think it’s a fucking terrible one. The worst part is y’all keeping all this stuff from Tuck. You need to tell him everything. Now. Tonight. People are going to talk. And I hate keeping secrets from my friends.”
“That’s not what Jen wants.”
“She doesn’t want her brother to shoot you in the chest either.”
I look up at the grey screen of the sky. “Tell my dad I’m waiting for him in hell.”
“That, I can do.”
We make very slow progress back to Harbour Village Marina. I leave Riley at his boat,Dolly, and head to the post office to pick up a few things I ordered when I finally gave up on trying to sleep last night.
I drove a golf cart to the Dixon Properties office here at the marina this morning. Riley and I always begin our runs inHarbour Village—I bring a bag of workout clothes with me every day—which means I always have a ride home. Thank God, because my legs are fucking Jell-O.
Cher and Tai are there to greet me when I arrive. They don’t seem to mind that I’m drenched in sweat. In fact, they seem to like it, licking my hands and face when I crouch to give them some attention.
“Hey, y’all.” I laugh when Cher tries to climb over Tai in an effort to get into my arms. “Whoa, whoa. There’s plenty of me to go around. Y’all got some energy, don’t you?” Jen walked them this morning before she left, and told me they would be fine hanging out at the house until she got home.
Not gonna lie, I’d love to see these little hot dogs run wild on the beach. There are no leash laws on Bald Head, so dogs are free to roam so long as they’re not bothering anybody.
My phone chimes in my pocket.
Jenny Monroe
In South Port. Just about to arrive at the terminal. I should be able to grab the next ferry at five thirty. Are you home? Do I need a key?
I’ll pick you up. Hungry?
