Page 34 of Merlot Marriage

I wait for her to keep talking, but she doesn’t. Just closes her eyes and sinks back into the chair.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. Between Ophie and me. Accepting Nate’s offer of temporary employment. Maggie and Kel basically moving back into this place.

“Philip?”

I swivel to face the kitchen behind me. Ophie has a collection of glasses on the counter in front of her. “Can you help me?” She points to the glasses, then the open cupboard door behind her.

With a last look at Sydney, who appears to be asleep, I pad into the kitchen. “Do you know what her deal is?” I ask as I put away glasses while she dries more clean dishes.

“Nope. Maggie says Nate basically abandoned the family when he went to France, especially after his dad sold Sunshine to the Suttons. Everyone was upset, but it does feel like Sydney has an extra grudge. For a while, Kel was the only person who would talk to him. No one else in the family would even say his name.”

I reach out to take the glass she just finished drying, my fingers sliding over hers. A shiver runs down my spine, and my cock,who finally got the message to settle down, wakes up. We freeze, my eyes glued to her hand beneath mine. “Ophie…”

“I know, we need to talk, but not right now.” Her focus darts to Sydney, asleep in the chair, before she peers back up at me. “Don’t look at me like that. We can’t.”

She’s wearing her usual post-work sweatpants and tank combo, which shouldn’t be hot but is anyway. The way her breasts push against the ribbed fabric, her sports bra squishing them together and creating a valley that calls to me. The baggy material sitting loose against her curvy hips—I want to slide my hands under it and feel her skin again. Prove that last night wasn’t a dream.

“Can’t what?” I tease, not wanting to drop it, but not wanting to push it and have her walk away.

“Can’t do…you know. What we did last night. Not if Sydney is here.”

“Are you saying that if Sydneywasn’there, we could?” A brief spark of heat passes between us with my question. A sharp breath hisses through her parted lips as her eyes flare wide.

I lean close, my lips inches from hers. “Could we?”

Ophie’s exhale dances over my lips. “I mean”—she slips a hand along my side, her finger tugging the fabric of my shirt—“wearemarried.”

She takes a step toward me, her body lining up with mine.

A loud clatter sounds from the other room, and we jump back as Sydney jerks awake. “I got it!”

There’s anotherthumpas she rolls off the chair to her hands and knees, grabbing for the wine glass on the ground. Ophie hurries over, bringing the towel she's been drying dishes with. Irritated at yet another interruption, I lean over the counter to see what’s going on.

“Do you have soda water or carpet cleaner?” Sydney’s words are fuzzy, but I can’t tell if they’re slurred or sleepy.

Ophie pulls her up off the floor. “Come on, Syd. Let’s get you to bed. You can sleep here.” She drapes Sydney’s arm over her shoulder. “Philip? There’s carpet cleaner under the sink. Can you…?”

Their voices carry as I spray and wipe the dribble of white wine before it soaks into the rug. After a few minutes, Ophie comes back out, looking over her shoulder as she joins me.

With a weary sigh, I stand up, crumpling the towel in my hand. “I guess I’m sleeping on the couch?”

“No, no. I’ll sleep on the couch. I put her in my bed.” She tries to take the bottle of cleaner from me, but I twist, keeping it out of her reach.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll sleep out here.”

“You don’t fit on the couch.”

“I fit just fine.”

“No you don’t, Philip. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. You’re being stubborn.”

Again, she reaches out, and this time, she manages to snag the bottle out of my hand. Crowing in triumph, she scurries into the kitchen to put it away. I let her go, but as she rounds the counter toward me, I lean down and scoop her over my shoulder.

“Philip!”

“Shhhhh, you’ll wake Sydney.” I smack the back of her thighs but grab hold again when she starts sliding off. Between her squirming body and the loose sweatpants, we’re both going to end up on the floor. “Stop it, or I’ll drop you.”

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