Page 39 of Honeyed

16

WARREN

We spend the rest of Saturday going to the hardware store for paint and the accompanying essentials, then set to work on the two walls that aren’t brick in the store.

True to Alana’s word, the work does take my mind off the letter I received from Mason. The monotony of painting those brush strokes, making sure I’m cutting in perfectly, doing even coats, distracts me enough to make my brain go blank.

I’m just finishing the final roll of the second coat onto the opposite wall Alana decided to take, and the rich, creamy white-beige we picked out makes the store look fresher already, even if it is still in need of a deep clean, and all the merchandise and signage.

“That was exhausting and satisfying. I forgot how rigorous painting can be. Thank God we didn’t have to do the whole room.” She collapses onto the floor, paint flecking her cheeks and hair.

Goddamn, those cute denim overalls she changed into before we left the house; they’re so innocently sexy and highlight her ass in such a way that I almost couldn’t concentrate when I was meant to be concentrating.

Along with painter’s tape, rolling brushes, extenders, and cut-in tools, Al stopped into the local market to grab a six-pack as a reward for us finishing. Setting my roller aside, I join her on the floor and crack two open, handing her one. She clinks her bottle to mine and sits up enough to drink a large gulp while I do the same.

And because those overalls are so distracting, and I feel the need to touch her, I pull off her sneakers for her and start massaging her feet. At least if I’m going to touch her, let it be under the guise of helping a friend feel better.

“Oh fuck, you’re a god.” She moans, and I regret this instantly.

I can picture her sounding and saying the exact same thing as I drill her into a mattress, my cock filling her up. Honestly, I’ve probably fantasized exactly that while jerking off.

“Just trying to say thank you for getting me out of my own head,” I murmur, my thumbs caressing her arches.

She lets out a sigh that’s way too close to a sound I want to hear in an entirely different context, and I have to count to a thousand to keep from getting it up for my very hot wife.

Picking up my beer bottle, I bring it to my lips and gulp until I’m sure I can get myself under control.

Alana is still lying here with her eyes closed when she starts laughing out of nowhere.

“Remember the cruise we took my parents on?”

It’s a random topic to bring up, but I know how her mind goes on tangents, and I’m expected to keep up.

“We bet Liam two hundred bucks that he’d be the one to attract a cougar during one of the on-deck social events. Within three minutes, that lady in that crazy leopard-print hat nearly had her hands down his pants.”

She dissolves into a fit of giggles, rolling back as if the hilarity is too much to sit upright. My stomach tightens like there is a fist around it because she looks so goddamn beautiful this relaxed that it hurts to witness. It hurts to hold myself back from all the ways I want to make her laugh like this.

“God, that cruise had been a great time,” she reminisces. “The figure skating show, on board a freaking cruise ship, was one of the coolest things ever. And that ice dancer took me to get drinks, remember?”

Did I remember? Of course, I fucking did. I’d been so jealous, I’d taken myself to the casino and lost a hundred bucks at the blackjack table because I could barely concentrate. I was sure I’d hear them through the walls of my cabin that night.

The cruise was a gift for Thomas and Leona’s thirty-fifth anniversary of marriage, and all the kids, including me, sprung to put them in a presidential cabin. We did excursions to the various Caribbean islands the ship docked at, spent some time in the casino, and everyone got burnt to a crisp daily at the on-deck pool.

“Evan was such an ass to that one waiter, asking about their cuts of meat.” I snort because her little brother could be so pretentious sometimes.

“Patrick and Liam got into that push-up contest on deck and could barely lift their dinner forks for the rest of the three days we were there. Imbeciles.”

We both crack up at that because their mother had to apply sunscreen to them, they were so sore and useless.

“I could use another vacation soon. I feel like everything has been so hectic, and it’d be nice to get away.”

“You should.” I speak without considering.

Because it would look pretty stupid to the outside world for my brand-new wife to go on a vacation by herself.

“Cass offered us a honeymoon on her dime. Maybe we take her up on that.” She shrugs, sitting up as she takes her feet from my hands and has a sip of her beer.

A honeymoon? We completely skipped over all the other traditions that I hadn’t even thought about it. But imagining Alana on some white sand beach with her hair in the wind at sunset, a romantic room covered in rose petals, endless hours to lounge about during the day …

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