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“Oh ho! Now look who’s picking!” He had two years to go before he climbed over that hill.
“I’m sorry, I meant fiftieth.”
As she tried to sashay by him after returning the juice to the fridge Mason grabbed her wrist and spun her into his hold. Her back pressed against his front. Leaning down, bending over her much smaller form, he pressed his lips into her neck. She squealed as he gave her a slight tickle. He wanted her too much, considering he just had her the night before and jerked off that morning. “Listen here, little girlie, keep being so cheeky and this old man may have to give you a spanking.”
Liberty suddenly grew very still. Fuck. Had he taken things too far? Her petite frame radiated with strong emotion as she took deep, slow breaths. Was she scared? Had he frightened her? “Liberty, I was just playing around, baby.”
Her body sagged a little and she nodded silently. As he released her she didn’t look at him. Cheeks flushed, she seemed intent on busying herself with bullshit that didn’t have to be done, like wiping down an immaculate countertop. Little walls, that’s what his marriage was contained in. Sometimes their marriage was like navigating his way through a labyrinth.
She cleared her throat softly. “Your messages are by the fridge. Breakfast is ready. If you want to make calls while you eat I can bring your coffee and paper in here.”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll go over them after breakfast. You made a lovely meal. Come on, let’s go enjoy it.”
By the end of breakfast whatever blip on the radar they experienced was gone. As usual, Libby made sure everything ran smoothly. He had no idea where she found the energy. She seemed extra anxious that morning, perhaps because of his stupid joke. Knowing what kind of odd things she found cathartic, he purposely tipped over the last half of his coffee and pretended regret as it dribbled down onto the light carpeting.
“Damn, baby, I’m sorry.”
She was up with a rag in her hand before the cup even emptied. “That’s all right. Let me just blot up the most of it then I’ll get you a fresh cup. Do you want to make calls from the study? I can run your coffee up to you.”
Mason stood and picked up his plate and toppled cup. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the coffee. Why don’t we swim this afternoon? I’ll make my calls, you tidy up, and then we’ll rendezvous here.”
“It’s a date.”
He paused for a moment. Sometimes it still took his breath away, seeing how beautiful she was. Those soft blue eyes stared up at him with such love and admiration it was sometimes overwhelming. There was something so special about Liberty, something pure and youthful he wanted to protect since the first day he met her. At age twenty-eight she still possessed that charming, nameless quality and he hoped it never faded.
“Mason?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. Right. Okay, I’ll grab my coffee and messages and come find you when I’m done.”
The smile spread to her eyes and he wished he knew what she was thinking in that moment. What had taken her from amused, to genuinely pleased? Right, coffee. He left her to clean up the intentional spill, glad to see it was already relaxing her to be of some help, and headed into the kitchen.
* * * *
He had given her the look, that look that he gave her the first time he told her he needed to have her. Liberty understood that look. She would always recognize it. It was that random glimpse inside of him when all barriers were gone. A moment, just for her, one of life’s little gifts, where she was shown that yes, her husband still found her attractive.
Folding up the damp napkin, she headed toward the laundry room and jumped when she heard the sound of glass shattering. “Mason?” Pivoting, she ran into the kitchen. Mason was standing with one hand braced on the counter between the fridge and the sink and his other hand spread over his face. “What’s wrong?” she cried and ran into the room.
“Stop!”
Liberty froze.
“There’s glass on the floor and you don’t have shoes on.”
She shook her head. Something was terribly wrong. Ignoring his warning she began walking toward him. “I don’t care. What happened? Are you all right?”
“I said, don’t move.”
Something inside of her went on lockdown. She couldn’t move, not after he used such a firm tone of voice. Her body quivered. What the hell? Why was she suddenly getting turned on? She wanted to ask again if he was all right. He hadn’t answered her either time. There was no sign of blood. Something about the way he was now standing told her he was fine. Physically. Emotionally something seemed to have upset him. Yet, she waited, as he commanded.
