Page 21 of A Midlife Vanishing Trick

When Stanley didn’t respond, she turned slowly, her eyebrows knit in a frown. When she saw him, her brown eyes widened to the size of dishes. Her lips parted, but before she could get a word out, he walked past her and made his way to the fridge, scanning its contents. A moment later, he pulled out a jar of orange juice and poured himself a glass, finishing it in a single gulp.

The sound of the glass being refilled was the only one in the kitchen. Stanley turned and faced his wife, raising his orange juice to his lips. She was still staring open-mouthed at him as if she couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to walk in here.

His gaze dipped, and he caught sight of her cleavage, breasts heaving with each breath. Her nipples had already sprung to attention, poking through the front of her dress like they had the other day, and the sight of them caused a stirring in his groin. In seconds, his erection was straining against the front of his trousers.

She must have noticed his own arousal because she suddenly drew a sharp breath. When he lifted his gaze, she was staring at his crotch.

Once again, they were alone, gazing at each other. The air between them seemed to hum with electricity. He felt his body tauten, his heart racing in anticipation. The memory of Allison moaning into his mouth in the barn reappeared in his mind.

In the barn, anyone could’ve walked in on them. Here, in the house, they had a lot more privacy. Her chest was heaving almost rapidly now. Her body was as responsive to his arousal as his was to hers. If he drew closer, if he came behind her and heldher the way he knew she loved to be held, what was stopping them from finishing what they had started in the barn?

He looked into her eyes, slightly narrowed now and lust filled. The air in the kitchen seemed to get warmer. For a fraction of a moment, Stanley nearly gave up his resolve and followed his urges. He stepped forward, prepared to walk over to her, slowly peel her clothes off, and give her what they both knew she craved.

Or not.

He drained the glass of orange juice and put the jug back in the fridge. And then, without a single word, he walked out of the kitchen, feeling as though Allison’s eyes followed him until he closed the front door behind him. He smirked.

Back to the barn.

***

Thirty seconds after the front door closed behind Stanley, Allison decided she needed a drink.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t any alcohol in the fridge, and she wasn’t about to settle for orange juice right now, so she abandoned the cabbages she’d been chopping for dinner, headed out to her truck, and drove down to the Blue Cicada.

It was just like the last time she’d come here, except there were slightly fewer people in the bar this afternoon. No doubt, most of the customers showed up after sunset. She spotted a man in one of the booths talking to a woman who looked like she had better places to be. He had on a familiar red hat covering a shock of hair. It took her a moment to realize he was the same man who’d come over to talk to her the other night. What was his name again? Jeff?

The man looked up, and their eyes met, but he made no move toward her.

Thank goodness.

She’d come here for a drink. The last thing she needed wasanotherman disrupting her peace of mind today.

Fortunately, the corner booth she’d sat in the other night was still empty. She headed straight for it and sat down, grateful to be away from the ranch, if only for a little while.

She still couldn’t believe what Stanley had done. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. Nothing was stopping him from going upstairs to take a nap or a shower. Still, considering he’d spent pretty much all his time in that barn, he was the last person she’d expected to suddenly walk into the kitchen and get a drink.

If she closed her eyes now, she could still see him standing there by the fridge, those deep blue eyes fixed on her. In seconds, she’d found herself embarrassingly turned on by his very presence, even more so when she noticed his own arousal.

Only Stanley had that effect on her. Once upon a time, she’d loved the intensity of their mutual attraction. Now, it troubled her. He was back, and there was no telling how much longer she could keep resisting him.

“You’re back,” said a voice.

It was Penny, the barmaid. She wore a brown top that exposed part of her midriff over khaki shorts. For a second, Allison couldn’t help feeling like she was staring up at the country version of Lara Croft.

“You left in such a hurry the other night, I thought you’d never return,” the barmaid said. “I almost threatened to kick Jeff out that night.”

Allison glanced for a second at the booth where the man was still sitting, going off about something she couldn’t hear.

“What’s your poison this afternoon?” Penny asked her.

She thought for a moment. “Whiskey?”

“You askingme?” The barmaid looked a little amused. “What bringsyouback here, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean, nooffense, but you don’t exactly seem like the type to just pop up in here on a random afternoon.” She lifted a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that. How’d you know?”

“You’ve got a funny look on your face a former friend got whenever she and her ex-boyfriend were arguing. The guy ended up leaving her for some chick in the next town.” Penny smirked.

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