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“He’s very Chris Evans.”
“Holy shit. Chris Evans? With or without a beard?” I asked excitedly.
“Without unfortunately, but he’s posh, and works with wealthy people who probably don’t value the edgy scruff like I do. Besides, it’s going to be a strictly professional relationship.”
“The last person you said that about went down on you in an elevator, Maria,” I said.
“Okay, I learned from that experience. For one thing, don’t hit the Door Open button with your elbow when you come. It can be sort of awkward.”
“What else did you learn?”
“That I need to spend more time getting to know people before I do impulsive stuff?”
“Don’t, for example, travel to Sweden with him and then find out he’s a loser?” I asked.
“The trip itself was great. He was a complete jerk, obviously, but I ditched him and things got better.”
“So you’ll stay away from elevator buttons and you’re definitely not asking this guy to travel with you, right?”
“At least not yet,” she said archly.
I hugged her and let her get back to work. Back at home, I did some homework and took my shower, ready to turn in early. My phone buzzed with a message alert, and I saw that the text was from Rick, congratulating me on a great first day at the office. Smiling, I curled up under my blankets and went to sleep to dream sweet dreams about this job working out perfectly.
If some of those dreams featured my professor and boss licking and sucking my nipples, that was purely the product of an overtired mind. It had nothing to do with the fact that my past wasn’t nearly as wild and experienced as Maria’s, but I definitely wouldn’t mind Rick going down on me in an elevator.
CHAPTER16
RICK
This was the life, hanging out in a bar with my friends, good music blasting on the speakers and good conversation to drown it out. I scooped up nachos and took a huge bite.
“You wouldn’t believe it. We finished out the case, went home, the baby’s been up every night teething—and my wife, who is a complete goddess—has her mom pick up the baby and then lights candles. She’s in this black satin—” Hamilton was saying, acting like he’d won the lottery.
“Why is your mother-in-law wearing black satin to pick up the baby? This is a weird fantasy, man,” I said.
“Shut up. My wife is in black satin. Her parents watched the baby for the night so we could spend some time alone. I had no idea how much I’d missed her, even though we work together and live together.”
“Same here. When I get time with just Mindy, it’s the best. Last time we had a weekend for just the two of us, we stayed at an AirBnB in Carmel. It was so beautiful and peaceful. We took walks and just talked about everything, and it was so nice to have her all to myself, and to hear what she’s thinking about without the twins needing our attention or making a ton of noise. I love them. They’re a miracle and I wouldn’t trade them for anything,” Kyle said.
“I know. You just miss having unlimited time with your wife. Not even just sexually, but to share everything with her. I get lonely when Carla’s been busy on a case or when Luke had an ear infection and he wanted her nonstop. I’m not saying I was jealous of my child,” Drake put in.
“But you’re not saying you’renotjealous of him,” Hamilton said. “Our wives are amazing, okay? We just can’t get enough of them. And seeing them be incredible moms and lawyers and cops or social workers or whatever just makes us want them even more and it’s frustrating sometimes when we have to wait our turn.”
I rolled my eyes at Aaron who raised his beer to me. These guys, they were so—I cleared my throat to keep from uttering the phrase ‘pussy whipped’ which had gotten me in trouble more than once with Kyle.
“I’m not woke like Kyle,” Drake said wryly. “But I do feel weird going, hey I’ll do baby bedtime, you go take a hot bath. It’s mostly because we’re partners, and we’re in this together, but partly I’m thinking if I make sure she has twenty minutes to herself maybe she won't be so exhausted and I’ll get quality time and good conversation and get laid. It shouldn’t be like I’m giving her time to get clean in exchange for something I want…”
“I didn’t sign up for couple’s therapy,” I said. “I’m just here for the drinks.”
“How’re the nachos?” Aaron asked, “not to change the subject from the relationship angst at this table.”
“The nachos suck,” I said. “But I’m starving. I worked through lunch today. So even though I can feel my blood pressure speeding behind my eyes from all the salt in this absolute crap they call queso, I’m shoveling them down anyway. Here, have some.”
“You make them sound so great,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll pass. I feel like some hot wings. I don’t have a wife who’s gonna complain if I have hot wing farts later.”
“And charming remarks like that could be why you don’t,” Hamilton laughed. “What woman doesn’t want to hear about flatulence? It’s the way to their hearts.”
“Hearts? Nah. Rick and I are only trying to get into their pants, right, man?” he said, nudging me.
