Page 23 of Rancher's Strength

“Same rules as last time, even though I’ve cried off my makeup and gotten out of my dress.”

“Sweetheart, smashing cake in your face is disrespectful and not something I’d ever do at a real or fake wedding.” I stuck my fork in the cake and pulled off a piece, holding it out for her. Watching Lexie wrap her lips around my fork sent a shock wave to my cock. I had to will it to settle down. If there was one thing we didn’t need to complicate our lives right now, it was my desire for my wife.

“Mmm, that’s good.” She sighed and let her head fall onto the back of the couch. When she finished, she held out some cake for me to eat, and I had to agree it was one of the best cakes I’d ever tasted.

The day might not have played out as we’d thought, but right now, sitting here with a bag of frozen peas on my hand and eating copious amounts of cake with my wife, life almost seems perfect again. I definitely need to call the therapist on Monday morning.

Lexie’s eyes grew heavy, the stress of the day taking a toll on her. “Time for bed,” I whispered as I stood from the couch. Lexie nodded and reached for the cake. “No, I’ll clean this up, go get ready.”

“Thanks, Ry.” She smiled, and I watched her scantily clad ass as she walked down the hallway to the room we’d share, to the bed we’d both be sleeping in.

I methodically turned off the lights and made my way to the bedroom. A glow from the doorway indicated that Lexie had left the light on for me, just as she always had when we were actually married. Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off as I walked past the foot of the bed. I didn’t need to look at Lexie to know she was watching my every move.

“See something you like?” I asked as I dropped my jeans and stepped out of them before turning to the bed.

“Shut up,” she mumbled and tossed one of the small throw pillows at my head. I caught it before it made contact and laughed. “You’re going to put something on, right?” She frowned and let her eyes drift down my body.

“Nope. This is real, right?” I wiggled my eyebrows and crawled into bed, before flicking off the lamp beside me. The heat from her body radiated over to me, and all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms.

“You’re thinking out loud,” I grumbled as I turned over and searched the darkness for her outline.

“It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“We’re in my parents’ room. Together,” she whispered, and the mattress shifted as she rolled over and faced me.

“That’s not what I thought you were thinking about, but now that I know, yeah, it’s kind of weird.” I agreed. “Maybe we should move into one of the rooms upstairs. I know your old room.”

“No, that might be even worse than this room.”

“You never thought of sneaking into your old room and making out?”

“We’re not making out, Ryder,” she said flatly.

“I didn’t say we were going to. I was just asking.”

“Fine, I’ve already made out with a boy in my room. My parents weren’t home, and Lydia was with them, so we came back here and, well, made out.”

“Why do I not know this?” I whispered in the dark.

“I didn’t exactly think to talk about ex-boyfriends when we were together.” She giggled, and I reached out to brush my thumb over her cheek. The moonlight shines through the window, and I could see her soft features shimmering in the pale light.

“Because I pushed every one of them out of your mind, and you could only remember me in your life?” I asked with a hint of humor in my voice.

“Yeah, that’s it.” She pulled her arm out from being tucked in and punched my shoulder, laughing. It was so amazing to hear her laugh. We’d been more than avoiding one another for so long, and when we stumbled upon each other, we avoided each other like the plague. Now, here in the darkness of the room we were sharing, we couldn’t avoid each other.

“Who was it?” I asked as jealousy over her teenage boyfriend bubbled up within me.

“It was nobody.” She tried to brush it away.

“Alexandra.”

“I’m serious, Ryder; it doesn’t even matter.”

“I’ll give you one more opportunity to answer, and then I’m pulling out the big guns.” And I wiggled my fingertips at her. She hated being tickled; it might as well have been a torture maneuver for her.

“Fine, it was Kipp, are you happy now?” She grabbed my hands and slammed them down on the bed.

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