Page 55 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“All the sex. Rough and dirty.”

Blake raised an eyebrow. “Rough and dirty, eh?”

“You remember that thing you did today with the twist… I wantthat.”

Even as he laughed, his eyes blazed through me with a promise that stole my breath and pinked my cheeks from the heat building between us. “I can do that,” he agreed. “But which one, in the front or from behind?”

“Behind,” I shouted a bit too eagerly. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Blake continued to laugh at me. “Have I told you how much I love being married?”

“I’m fairly certain you didn’t have to marry me to do the twist.”

“It’s not the twist, Glory. There are so many reasons and the twist doesn’t even come close to the top of the list.” The blaze in his eyes softened to that of a warm fire crackling in a fireplace on a cold winter night, all snuggly and warm.

Thank the universe for the invention of love because once we locked ourselves inside the house for the night, he gave methe twistfrom behind, then from the front, and finally one last time from the back for good measure.

“Glory.” He sort of heaved my name because he had a hard time catching his breath. We lay on the living room floor completely naked. The coffee table knocked over. I still lay on the two cushions he’d pulled from the sofa and stacked under me to lift my hips into the perfect position for all the exquisitely naughty things he’d done to me, which was how the ice cube tray with the few remaining ice cubes melting inside and the half-used tube of toothpaste found their way into the night’s festivities.

“Mm?”

It took a superhuman effort for him to roll onto his side to face me. We stared at each other for a few beats until he reached his hand over to sift my hair from my eyes. He rubbed the strands between his fingers. “Thank you for loving me enough to put up with the tour.”

“My vows weren’t empty words, Blake. I meant them. My promise to love you, to spend my life with you—we’re in this together.” I closed my eyes, scooting closer to him and snuggling against his chest, my head pressed against his neck. He reached behind him to snag the corner of the old throw that started the evening tossed over the back of the sofa, pulling it down to cover us. He tugged the cushions from under me to make me more comfortable and we held each other, inches apart, until we both fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I didn’t think anything could wipe the smile from my face. Well, until my phone buzzed and vibrated from inside my upturned purse that had fallen off the coffee table during our vigorous nocturnal activities. Candice’s name flashed across the top screen. Well, it actually read,Harpy, but for anyone who spokeGloriaese, it meant Candice.

I wanted to reach through the phone and throat punch her. How dare she wake us so early on a Saturday. Okay, it didn’t suck to see my husband with his sleep-mussed hair roll over and prop his head up on his hand to smile at me, but otherwise the cee-you-next-Tuesday needed to burn in the fiery pits of hell. I know, don’t hold back Gloria, tell us how you really feel. But I didnotlike that woman. Not her rudeness. Not the way she constantly sneered at me but especially not the way she flirted with my husband. He never reciprocated, but seriously, that screamed of low self-esteem. I hoped the pits of hell had therapists, because she needed one—stat.

“Is there a reason you’re calling at eight in the morning on a Saturday?” I grumbled rather than answer with a ‘hello’.

“You have a luncheon today at the Detroit Women’s League.”

“Uh… no, I don’t. There’s nothing on the schedule until the dinner tonight.”

“Both Mrs. Parkers have decided to host one and you’ll be joining them. We need Detroit on our side to take Michigan.”

“Then let them have their lunch. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Listen,” she said in a tone that—excuse me?Fiery pits. Swear to all things holy: fiery pits. “This luncheon is being hosted by the Parker women. You are now a Parker woman; therefore, you will join Adair and Emily to graciously welcome the Detroit Women’s League and convince them to vote for Brockton Parker. This is non-negotiable.”

“They can’t possibly want me there.”

“Of course, they don’t. But this is your life for the foreseeable future. Better get used to it.”

These were the times when I had to remind myself that the safety of the people I cared about outweighed my comfort.

I pressed my palm to my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled to find enough calm to ease my warbly insides, and I let out a slow breath. “Fine,” I replied. “Are they sending a car?”

“It will be at the hotel to pick you up by eleven.”

“We aren’t at the hotel. We’re at my house.”

“Your house?” she asked in a razor-sharp tone. I swore I heard her nostrils flare through the line. “I’ll need that address.” After I gave her the information, she huffed out a disgusted breath. “Why must you make everything more difficult?” I stayed silent because I figured she meant it rhetorically. “The car will be there at 10:30 now. Be ready.” The abrupt silence on the other end both ticked me off and momentarily put me at ease.

“When is the campaign over?” I asked my husband. Every minute I had to spend with Adair, Emily orCandice, drove me closer to prison time.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Blake moved his hand up to my face, leaning in, brushing his nose up my cheek before going in for a proper ‘good morning’ kiss. “Murder isn’t the answer,” he said against my lips and I smiled because apparently, we were at thepoint in our marriage where he could read my thoughts. Couples goal achieved.

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