Page 22 of Home in the Country
It also has me squeezing my thighs together because it’s beenforeversince I’ve seen that much action. I’m exhausted both physically and emotionally, and I feel a headache coming on.
Otto alternated between being sweet and thoughtful and cold and withdrawn. It was confusing, but the spark is still alive and well between us even if he gave me no indication of wanting to see me again.
Climbing out of bed, I stretch and feel every single muscle in my body groan after being made into a pretzel and fucked within an inch of my life. It was glorious, and despite the noise and doubt on the periphery, I want to do it again.
The floor is cold beneath my feet as I pad to the bathroom and turn the shower on. My stomach growls, and I place my hand to my skin to silence it. It doesn’t help, but I smile thinking of how Otto took the time to show my body appreciation.
When I propositioned him, the idea of him seeing me naked post-baby never even crossed my mind. But as soon as he flipped the light on, all I could see were my imperfections.
Otto made sure I knew he could only seeme.
My phone vibrates on the sink, and I pick it up to see a message from one of the other military wives and maybe the only real friend I had out there.
BIANCA: Just checking in
FALLON: Hey! We’re doing good—I’m going to pick up Briggs in a little bit
FALLON: (Picture of Briggs eating ice cream)
BIANCA: Aww he’s such a cutie
BIANCA: You went out? Good for you! Meet anyone?
I bite my lip and think of how to answer.
FALLON: Kind of…sort of hooked up with an old flame
BIANCA: I’m proud of you. Let’s catch up soon—I’m heading in to get my hair done.
BIANCA: You kiss that sweet little boy for me
FALLON: I will (heart emoji)
Setting down my phone, I smile at the steam-covered mirror and get in the shower. The water is hot as I step under the spray, and I relish in not needing to rush. There’s no one that needs a snack or a show changed or the answer to some obscure question that has no bearing on anything we’re doing but now has life-and-death implications.
I exfoliate and scrub myself from top to bottom and reluctantly replace Otto’s scent with my own before stepping out and wrapping my new towels around myself. Tanner had demanded that he keep our towels and I buy new ones that matched my new place.
The anxiety over Tanner eventually moving here and interacting with Otto tries to overtake my good mood, but I push that away to deal with at a later time.
Throwing on a T-shirt and shorts, I brush my wet hair and throw it into a messy bun on the top of my head. I have a couple of hours before I need to get Briggs from my parents, so I grab my keys and purse and decide breakfast in town is in order.
Last night aside, I don’t splurge a lot, but this morning warrants a little indulgence. Pointing my car toward Smokin’ Joe’s, I turn on the radio and sing along to “Baggage Claim” by Miranda Lambert because Lord knows I have enough to fill an aircraft carrier.
Before long, I’m pulling into the parking lot of the bright yellow building and smiling wide. This town hasn’t changed and I love it. It still feels like home even though I’ve been away for several years.
Opening the door, I’m hit with the smell of smoked meat and sweet maple syrup. My stomach growls again as I step in the rest of the way and look around.
“Anywhere you want, hun!” Joe calls, and I glance around again before spotting Marlee in a booth to my right.
“Hey, can I join you?” I ask with a smile.
“Of course.” Her lips tip up but it feels forced.
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you; I can sit somewhere else.” Shaking her head, she meets my gaze and her eyes are filled with unshed tears.
Without thinking, I slide in the booth next to her and wrap her in a tight hug. Marlee holds on to me and we stay like that for a long time before she pulls back and dabs the corner of her eyes with a napkin.
“I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess of your shirt,” she says.
