Page 30 of Shining Pearls
He reached a hand up to cup one of my cheeks along my jawline. I tilted my head to lean into his sweet caress. With his lips near my other ear, he whispered, “I was thinking you could make some of your famous scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon in them for lunch.”
His warm breath was tantalizing on my neck. I leaned my head back and laughed at his words. Pretending to be outraged, I said, “So, you had your way with me and now you carried me caveman-style to the kitchen and want me to make you food?”
“Mmm-hmm,” his voice rumbled with a chuckle as he kissed his way down the side of my neck before offering, “I’ll make the toast.”
“Don’t overdo it,” I teased him before adding, “It’s still a little early for lunch isn’t it? It doesn’t seem like it’s been very long since we ate breakfast.”
He turned to glance at the digital display of the time on the oven. Returning his attention to me he said, “We’ll call it second breakfast, and I’m sure we can think of a way to burn off the extra calories.”
“Hmm.” I practically purred, loving the return of the flirtatious banter that had always been so natural between us. “What’s in it for me if I agree to be your personal chef?”
Alex leaned back and gave me a knowing look before teasing, “I’ll do that thing you like so much.”
I quirked a brow at him, daring him to prove it. Not wasting a second, Alex flipped up the front of my skirt and buried his face at the apex of my thighs. I tipped my head back and grabbed his hair, lost in the delirious passion and intense pleasure that only my husband could bring me––again and again.
When we finally paused, we had both exerted enough energy that we were as ravenous for food as we had been for each other’s bodies. True to his word, Alex popped bread into the toaster, while I scrambled the eggs and fried the bacon. He also busied himself with getting out the plates, silverware, and strawberry jam.
Once he had completed his busywork, he came up behind me at the stove. I hadn’t bothered to put my underwear back on, so when he slid his palm up my thigh, lifting my dress as he went, I hissed in a breath.
Kissing the curve where my neck met my shoulder, Alex said, “I seem to be at a loss for something to do to keep my hands busy while we wait for the food to cook. Do you have any ideas?”
His palm cupped my rear end as he spoke near my ear. Smiling and turning over the bacon, I asked, “What has gotten in to you? You’re suddenly worse than a horny teenager.”
Alex’s hand froze as if I had reprimanded him. Not wanting him to get the wrong impression, I added, “Whatever it is, I like it. I don’t remember the last time you were this insatiable for me.”
The last two words came out involuntarily, and I immediately wished I could suck them back in. I didn’t want anything––especially the memory of his time with Josie––to come between us and our renewed vigorous passion for each other.
Without a word, Alex’s hand dropped to his side before he reached around me to take the tongs and began tending to the bacon. I scooted over to sprinkle shredded cheddar cheese into the eggs. With excellent timing, the toast popped up.
A lump lodged in my throat as I realized that no matter how hard Alex and I pretended things were perfect, there was now an invisible, yet very real, Josie-sized wedge between us.
We moved together, preparing our plates in perfect tandem as we both tried to act like things between us could truly go back to the way they were before––even though it was painfully obvious they never would.
27
Josie
Iwas walking to the pool for work when I heard the angry woman’s voice say to my back, “I hope you’re happy.”
As much as I despised conflict and tried to always get along with people, there were a few ladies in this town who disliked me strongly enough to be so openly hateful––including Claire and her pushy sister, Meg.
Turning around slowly, I forced the edges of my lips to turn up into a smile before saying, “Hello, Molly.”
She didn’t even pretend to return my smile. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at me in an openly hostile glare. Even though I had known she didn’t appreciate my friendship with Dean, I was taken aback by her extreme bitterness.
Normal social protocols would indicate for me to acknowledge her break-up with Dean, since she had to know that he’d told me by now. The pinched expression on her face as if she had just stepped in a steaming pile of poo made me hold back from even giving her an empty platitude about how sorry I was that things didn’t work out between them.
She was the one who had called out to me, so I refused to carry the conversation. Even though it was awkward to silently stare at each other, I remained silent after my initial greeting.
After letting out a frustrated huff as if this too annoyed her, Molly finally said, “You should at least tell Dean if you don’t have any feelings more than friendship for him. He deserves the truth.”
“Dean knows that he and I are just fr––” I started, but Molly held her palm up a little too close to my face. The rude gesture startled me enough to interrupt my planned speech.
“Don’t even start with me,” she snapped.
I was so surprised by her outburst that my mouth closed involuntarily as my eyes widened, and I openly gawked at this audacious woman.
Her eyes were narrowed into slits as she said, “You know good and well that Dean is madly in love with you, and you do nothing but lead him on––even while you’re off cavorting withmarriedmen.”
