Page 30 of Deprived No More

“Speaking of holidays. Your birthday is coming up soon. Any special requests?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Could we find someone to watch the kids overnight?”

“Already taken care of, sir.”

“Ah, I love you. Then leave the party planning to me.”

Spinning to face him, I’m shocked. “You want a party?”

“Yes,” he says, kissing my nose. “But I want to plan everything. So when the time comes, put on your best Dirty Librarian dress for the club, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

My mouth drops open. Nick hates dancing and isn’t fond of going to any dance clubs. He merely tolerates it because I enjoy it, and he usually gets rewarded later in the evening for giving me a night of fun.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll see. It’s going to be a great night.”

Dropping the kids off with Rachel and her teens went amazingly well. My kids adore Luke and Jenna, and since we haven’t seen them in a while, they were overly excited to spend the evening with them.

I’m incredibly grateful for the relationship I have with my sister. We weren’t close growing up. Although I was older by several years, I always felt I lived in her shadow. She was beautiful and popular, and I was awkward and shy.

The older we’ve gotten, the more I see a physical resemblance. We both have brown eyes and a fair complexion, but I’m a little taller. My hair’s always been a tad darker, but the tone of Rachel’s has gotten warmer over the years. Yet, some differences remain. While I enjoyed being a student, Rachel would rather be in front of the classroom.

I’m proud of my sister. She handled her divorce with dignity and grace and took part-time classes for years to obtain her teaching certificate. She’s only been working as a substitute teacher so far, trying to get her feet wet and continue being there for her teenage children. But I predict a full-time position will be hers before too long. And those are going to be some darn lucky kindergarteners.

As I drive back to the bungalow to meet Nick, I replay the last few days in my head. It hurt to have him need to find solace in a glass of scotch or bottle of beer with Sebastian instead of talking to me. Yet, I have to concede, I’ve been doing the same in my conversations with Olivia and Rachel recently.

I don’t want to pry into his conversation with Bas. But if I had to guess, I feel like Nick is feeling out of control. He couldn’t get his needs met without the fire alarm going off. He couldn’t get his needs met when I woke up sick. He almost got his needs met when Olivia hurled. Then he was left to care for the kids when I told the emergency room I’d come in to fill in for someone who had called out.

This isn’t a man who lets the world tell him how things are going to go. He takes care of those around him. His family, his patients… everyone but himself. Maybe that’s why he wants to plan his own birthday. He wants to regain some control.

Pulling into the driveway, I grab my purse and have to bite the inside of my cheek at the notion we’ll finally have uninterrupted adulting tonight. Nick had proposed picking up dinner while I dropped off the kids. I asked if we could still dress up as if we were going out on the town but instead stay home to make the most of every free moment, and he obliged. Of course, it was rare he didn’t give me anything I asked for. I can’t help but wince at this thought, given what I’ve been perseverating on most lately is an addition to our family. But I’m certainly not ruining this evening with that conversation.

“Well, good evening, Mrs. Barnes,” my husband greets me as I enter the den from the garage. He’s wearing charcoal gray slacks, a crisp white button-down, and a tie.A tie.

“I feel terribly underdressed, Dr. Barnes. I’ll just need a few minutes,” I say as I dart toward the bedroom. Looking to the kitchen table, I see a candle lit with a soft spray of cream and light pink roses adorning the center of the table and beam. “What’s for dinner?”

“I got sushi. It’s in the fridge,” he says, toying with the buttons on his shirt sleeves.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Heading for the closet, I tap the pad of my index finger against my lips in consternation. Why hadn’t I considered what I would wear on the drive home? Especially given this was my idea. I mean, he’s wearing a tie, so I guess I should…wait a minute.

Grabbing a short wrap dress from my closet, I quickly change and find some black heels. There isn’t much to choose from in this closet, given we rarely stay here anymore. This dress is usually appropriate for any occasion, thus, it’s one of a few I keep at the house. I pull my hair down out of my messy bun and run my fingers through my hair as I turn to Nick’s side of the closet.

Hmmm… that should do it.

Making my way over to my husband, I lean in and give him a peck on the cheek.

“Are you ready for dinner, kitten?”

“Not really.” I shrug.

“What?” He looks stunned. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. I’d just like to hold off on dinner if that’s okay. I had something else in mind first.”

Looking perplexed, he tilts his head, trying to read my expression.

Unable to stand it any longer, I bring my hands from behind my back and let the contents drop down so he can see them. Instinctively, he glides his hand along the tie he’s wearing. His eyes bounce from the ones I’m holding back up to my face as if questioning whether I’m suggesting a change in his attire.

Control. That’s the change I want to give Nick after the way this week has been for him. “Can we eat later?” I walk closer, draping my arms around his neck, and tugging on his ear with my teeth. “Would you tie me up and have your way with me first?”

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