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Actually, he had, earlier tonight, but it had been said in a more generic tone than the one he used now. Currently, there was a gruffness to his voice that Mimi recognized. It seeped through her skin all the way down to her toes and made her shiver.
“Come home with me tonight,” she said.
She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but why not? He was her husband and she wanted him. And from the way he was looking at her, he wanted her, too.
His hands gripped the steering wheel. “Not unless it’s for good.”
“What? You’re blackmailing me because I’m horny? That doesn’t seem very…Bogey of you.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want the kids confused. If they see me in the morning, and they will see me, it’s because I’m home to stay.”
She leaned her head back on the seat. He was right about that. “Okay, so let’s go to your fishing cabin. Unless you think there’s not enough room for us and all the food you’ve been getting.”
He shot a look her way. “Food?”
“Bettina told me all about the committee to feed poor lonely Zeke Grant.”
“You sound jealous.”
“Maybe I am.” She wasn’t drunk, but she’d had enough of those martinis to make telling the absolute truth seem like a good idea. Tomorrow, she’d probably regret that.
“If it makes you feel any better, there’s no way I can eat all the food I’m getting. I bring most of it to the police station or to the homeless shelter in Panama City. I’ve asked the good ladies of Whispering Bay to stop, but they insist on bringing me a hot meal every night.”
“As long as that’s all they’re bringing you.”
He laughed. “You are jealous.”
She placed her palm along the inside of his thigh. He sucked in a breath, but kept his eyes on the road. Feeling a little bolder, she lightly ran her hand down to cup him.
“Mimi,” he warned.
“Yes?” she said sweetly.
“Do you know it’s exactly ten point four miles to the fishing cabin?”
“Is it?” She ran her hand back up to stroke him. He instantly went hard.
“So unless you want me to pull over the side of the road and fuck you in this minivan, I think you better stop.”
It was as if all the blood in her body rushed down between her legs. Yes, please.
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he made a jerky unexpected U turn. Despite wearing a seat belt, she almost banged her head against the side of the car. He went a mile or so up the road till he got to the Bay Bridge. He slowed down and rolled the car onto a grassy area facing the water. It was dark and past midnight and theirs was the only car parked there.
He moved the driver’s seat as far back as it would go and unclipped both their seat belts. Mimi wet her lips in anticipation. Once, as kids, they’d had sex in a car, but they weren’t kids anymore and she wasn’t as limber as she’d been at seventeen. She wasn’t sure exactly how this was going to go down, but she was looking forward to it way more than a thirty-five year-old woman should. He pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him.
“Take off your panty hose.”
She grinned. “I’m not wearing panty hose.”
He ran a hand up her silk clad leg and shook his head in confusion. Then he got to her upper thigh and when his hand met with nothing but warm skin he smiled, finally understanding.
“They didn’t wear panty hose in the forties, silly. These are called stockings and they’re held up with garters.”
“Nice.”
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was cramped, sitting on top of him in the front seat of the car, but it was a nice kind of cramped. Neither of them had anywhere to go, except inside one another. He pushed her dress up as his thumbs made slow, teasing circles against the skin of her inner thighs u
