Page 68 of The Fake Husband Play
Parker: Sounds like a lot. Single parents, man. Gotta give them all the respect.
Grammercy: Yeah. See you at 1. Thanks again, Parker, and I’ll try to be less of a sneaky fucker in the future.
Parker: It’s okay. I get it. I respect that you know how to keep your mouth shut. If I needed to take care of a body, you’d be the first guy I’d call.
Grammercy: Thanks. I guess?
Parker: You’re welcome.
I setmy phone beside the sink and finish shaving, feelingbetter than I did before.
Maybe Parker’s right.
Maybe I do need to loosen up and share more often.
I hope he’s right about the rest of it, too. I hope Elly knows I still want to help her get back on her feet, no matter what happens between us. I meant what I said about being a part of Mimi’s life for the long haul, too, even if her mama and I are exes instead of giving each other O’s.
But fuck, I like giving Elly O’s…
As I wander into the kitchen to find her whipping up pancake mix, the sight of her bottom jiggling in her pajama pants as she stirs the batter is enough to give me a semi.
I am a shameless horndog when it comes to this woman.
Then, she glances over her shoulder, grinning like she clocked that I was ogling her backside before she even turned around, and I give a “guilty as charged” shrug, and she laughs.
We have an entire conversation without saying a word, like we’ve been friends for years, and…that’s special.
As special as the sweet ache in my chest as Mimi pads down the hall in her pink PJs, her curly hair sticking up like she’s recently been electrocuted, calling, “Mama, can I go swimming before breakfast? It’s sunny and I’m ready to swim,” only to break off with a grin when she sees me. “Hey, Gee! How was being on TV? Do we get to see you? Were you nervous?”
I scoop her up in my arms as she reaches me, grinning. “It was good. Kind of boring waiting around for hours, but good. And I guess we can try to find the interviewon YouTube later. What about you? Did you have a good night?”
She rolls her expressive eyes. “I was sleeping, silly.”
“Sounds like a good night to me. I love sleep.”
“Me, too,” Elly adds from beside the stove. “I might have to take a nap later. I didn’t get as much sleep as I’m used to.” She winks at me as she adds in a softer voice, “Not that I’m complaining. At all.”
“Good to hear,” I murmur.
And it is.
So, fucking good, nearly as good as when we sneak off to “nap” around ten-thirty, after Mimi’s been fed and swum for an hour, and is zonked out in her bedroom watching cartoons on her new TV.
“I love napping with you,” I groan as I slide inside my sexy wife, riding her slow and deep in our bed.
It already feels like “ours” now, after just one night.
“So much,” she agrees, wrapping her legs tighter around my hips. “God, Grammercy, the things you do to my body. It’s never been like this. Never.”
It’s never been like this for me, either.
And I hope it never will be with anyone else.
Chapter
Eighteen
GRAMMERCY
