Page 25 of The Marriage Rebound

“Awww, don’t be like that,” she said, laughing. She hooked a finger into the pocket of my shorts and tugged me closer, resting her hands on my hips. “You’re the one who said a bowl of cereal counted as cooking.”

I smacked my lips and rolled my eyes, trying my damnedest to resist her charms. The warmth of her fingers on the small patch of my exposed skin was nearly enough to do me in. It wasn’t a lot, but I was a woman starved for her wife’s touch. That was usually my downfall. We’d have whatever issue, big or small, and she’d smile or joke us into a better place. Fix us. Make us better. Usually.

“Whateva.” My attention went to her cast. She’d never left me before. I walked my fingers back and forth along the rough surface and took measured breaths through the tightening of my chest. “I’m sorry you’re hurt. I know . . . I know I haven’t said it, but I am sorry. And it’s my fault. Because if I hadn’t called you to pick me up that night because I got wasted at the club, then . . . then you would have still been at Tina’s and not here.”

A silence settled between us. We were on a constant roller coaster, and it was hard to predict when the drops were going to hit. The look she had on her face the night she left flashed in my mind in high-def. I shook my head and cleared my throat. It was fine; she was here. I’d needed her and she’d come. That had to mean something. We were going to be fine. We were fine.

“But you’re home, and I’m going to be your nursemaid until you’re all better. And that means making sure you’re well fed.”

I started to walk away, but Courtney grabbed my hand. She held my gaze as she ran her thumb back and forth along the inside of my wrist. “It’s not your fault, Sasha. I mean, shit happens. We can’t predict it. It’s not your fault.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded, then leaned down, placing my hands on either side of her face. Her words soothed the guilt that had been hanging around my neck since her yell had jolted me awake. She was the one injured, but the way she continued to make sure I was okay—I meant for it to be quick, but the moment my lips connected with Courtney’s, I needed more. I pushed my tongue past her lips and moaned, remembering how good it was to be with her.

This was where she belonged. This was where I belonged. Together. Courtney snaked her hand behind my neck, the other gripping my waist, the roughness of her cast scratching me slightly, but I didn’t mind. She wanted me closer instead of pushing me away.

I stumbled forward, almost tipping her back, which jolted me and brought me back to my senses. “Oh shit, Court. You good? I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “All good.” She didn’t let go of me and pulled me back so that my forehead rested on hers. “I love you, Sash, you know that, right?”

I bit the corner of my lip and nodded before answering. “I do. And I love you too, Courtney. Truly and deeply. Now, let me feed you before all this hard work gets cold.”

She let me go, and I had to get myself together because I was tempted to say screw the food in favor of screwing my wife.

Damn, was I that starved for her attention that simply kissing her got me horny?

I cast a glance in her direction to find her following my every move with the same intensity she used to when she’d watch me dance at the club, and knew that the answer was a hell yes. The physical attraction between me and Court was never the problem.

I plated her food, giving her a generous portion of everything. “I hope you like it. Even the syrup is warmed,” I said as I set the breakfast in front of her. “What kind of juice do you want? Orange or cranberry? Or you can have a mimosa like me.”

A funny look crossed her face when I mentioned a mimosa, and I wondered if she was gonna make some comment again about how she thought I drank too much.

She shook her head. “Probably not best to mix alcohol with my pain meds. Just cranberry please.”

“You’re probably right.”

She wasn’t a fan of the pain meds and only took them when I insisted because I noticed she was grimacing a bit too much. She’d complained that they didn’t really help with the pain, and instead made her sleepy more than anything.

I poured her a large cup of juice and gave it to her. I expected her to start digging in, but she didn’t. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just waiting for you.”

I don’t know why that simple thing was so huge. But a big goofy grin spread across my lips, and I quickly made my own plate so I could join her at the table. “Alright, dig in.”

“This looks good, babe. It really does. And thank you for doing this for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

My phone buzzed, pulling my attention away from checking my reflection. I strolled over to the oversized barrel chair and picked it up to see a text from Denise.

Denise: Bitches where we headed tonight

Nowhere, I replied back.

Denise: The hell you mean nowhere?

Me: I ain’t going out

Denise: what the hell