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“I agree. And, sweetheart, if you recall, we all started on blended food. Although, yours might have been hairy.” Gage took a seat in the chaise lounge, enjoying the late summer temperatures before the fall chill kicked in.
Tilly laughed. “You’re stuck on me eating my hair. Good thing the results are apparently worth it.” She sobered when she realized she was flirting. She wanted to feel badly, but all she felt was good. A kind of deep down happy she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. “Since you claim we’re acting like kids, I have some questions...very important questions. First, water ice or shaved iced?”
Gage took on a jokingly, serious voice when he asked, “Well, shit, is there a right and wrong answer?”
“I think shaved ice is inferior to water ice because once you suck all the flavor, you’re left with a cup of ice. I like sweet in every bite.”
Gage’s mind was stuck on suck and sweet. He even lowly grumbled, “Fuck.” Slipping from his memory that he had a phone to his ear.
At the tone of his voice, Tilly realized what she’d said. Heat crept up her cheeks, and to be honest that heat moved south, too. “It was suck, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, babe, it was,” Gage confirmed in a low rasp.
She giggled and lifted her tea. “Noted. Maybe we should move off of food. If you could have one day where you could do anything, what would you do?”
“Hmm,” Gage drawled and let her question move around his mind. There’d been times in his life that he should have kept his thoughts to himself. This was one of those times, but he whispered, “Spend all day in bed with the woman of my choice, no consequences.”
Tilly inhaled as chills moved over her body. She shouldn’t, but her mind was already there, imagining a day in bed with him, no consequences. Warning bells sounded, but she ignored them. She reasoned it was harmless. Like fantasizing about winning the lottery. She never got lightheaded thinking about winning the lottery though. Caught up in the fantasy, she added almost absently, “Not even getting out of bed to eat. A little cottage, windows open, sheer curtains allowing the ocean breeze in.”
Gage let out a breath and expressed. “Well, coffee is a must, food might be needed for refueling.” They sat in silence for a few beats before Gage chuckled. “We moved from food to sex.”
“I think we actually never got off sex since I said suck, and well…”
“True.” He took a deep breath, trying to think of another topic. Kids. That’s a safe one. “The kids hounding about Christmas break yet?”
Tilly walked outside, her thoughts lingering on sex with Gage. Just the thought had every nerve ending tingling. She hadn’t felt this alive in way too long. The fact that it wasn’t her husband making her feel it, another warning. The conversation shift was a good one, necessary, even if part of her wanted to stay on the other topic. Gage’s question made her laugh. “Yes, as soon as school starts, they’re counting down for Christmas. I think now that they’re older, they’re more excited for the time off, though Ashley has been dropping present suggestions every so often. Is Scarlett still determined to find a job for the holidays?”
“Yeah, she brought it up when we were at the batting cages a few weeks back. Not sure if I told you, but Dom’s sister manages a Starbucks, so she’ll probably wind up there.” He said, and whistled when Velvet got too close to the front yard. “C’mere, girl.” He called to her.
He wasn’t talking to her, and still, the rush of excitement those words stirred had her saying, “I wish.”
Gage teased like Tilly had earlier. “It was the c’mere girl, wasn’t it?”
Tilly replied breathlessly, “Yes.” She moved the conversation along when she said, “That Pink concert you took Scarlett to, I was there with Ashley. How many other times do you think we crossed paths and didn’t know it?”
“No shit?” Gage expressed on a breath. “Well, fuck, we might already know each other.” He laughed. “Maybe I need another pic, inspect it real good to make sure.” He joked.
Tilly laughed. “One sec,” she said, pulling the phone away. She brought up her camera, took a quick selfie and texted it to him. “I sent you one. You can send one, too, but your face isn’t a face I could forget.”
“Ditto,” Gage said, pulling the cell from his ear and putting it on speaker. “Opening it now.” There was silence before he grated out in a deep whisper. “Fuck.” This was because Tilly was wearing a black lace halter top with her hair pulled into a ponytail. Gage drew the phone out, arm’s length, snapped a pic, and sent it to Tilly. “Sent you yours.”
It was like Christmas morning, just a picture from him, and her body was going haywire. His image appeared, and her breath caught, looking into those brown eyes, a sparkle of mischief in them. Her gaze moved to his muscled arm, his chest covered in a plain white tee. That face, that body and his personality...his wife had hit the jackpot. How the hell did she not see that? Softly, she whispered, “If you were mine, I’d hold on with both hands.”
“Oh, yeah?” Gage replied in a deep rough whisper.
It was only then, hearing that deep whisper, that she realized she’d spoken her private thoughts out loud. “We tend to not see what’s staring us in the face, but how is she not reminded every time she’s with you? I’m probably crossing a line here, but for as sexy as you are, it pales to your personality. And that personality comes out every time you open your mouth. How doesn’t she see that? So yeah, if you were mine, you wouldn’t have a birthday where you spent it alone.”
Gage let those words sit with him for a few beats. Thoughts of what Tilly would do for him on his birthday roamed nicely around in his mind. “This is true, but some do get tired of looking at the same thing and need a change. I could say the same about your husband.”
“You’ve got a point. I suppose the grass is always greener.”
Gage uttered, “The sun brighter.”
Tilly muttered, “Flowers smell sweeter.”
“Exactly,” Gage whispered. There was silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Keeping them where they were, but taking a peek over the boundary to see if it was better on the other side, Gage broke the silence when he asked, “And what would we do for my birthday, Tilly?”
That was a dangerous question because she could be honest with herself and admit there was little she wouldn’t do with this man. That could be because it was a fantasy, but he made her feel things she hadn’t felt...well, ever. Instead of being honest and admitting a day in bed with no consequences sounded perfect, she, instead, said, “It’s your birthday. Whatever you wanted.”
