But I wasn’t kidding about wanting you to wear those tonight. So I can peel them off you.”
“Done. Don’t have to ask me twice when you ask me like that.”
Kat led the rest of the way back to the main house. I watched her, her hair gleaming fire in the sunshine, her hands tucked into the pockets of that airy dress. I’d never seen her wear dresses before we got married. I’d had no idea what I’d been missing before, despite the fact that she had the finest ass ever in the faded jeans she favored for work attire.
My eyes slid down her slim waist and settled on that full, round butt. I couldn’t stop thinking about the hot sex between us the night before. All that talk of BJs had me imagining that gorgeous redhead bobbing over me. That was all it took to get me as hard as someone who hadn’t had sex in weeks.
Fuck breakfast, I wanted to grab her hand and turn back to the guest house and spend the entire day screwing my wife in every position I could imagine. Hot and sweaty. Electric and tireless Naked and writhing underneath me.
I’d opened that pandora’s box last night.
But in spite of those hot memories, other, darker thoughts rose up unbidden. It was the way my brain worked now, as this older, more cynical version of myself. I couldn’t ignore the sick feeling at the pit of my stomach. The alarm somewhere deep inside told me this could—and if the past had been any indication—probably would go south. And when that happened it would be bad, very bad.
Which was why I felt the need for the constant reminders—to myself and to her—that we had an expiration date. And the fact that once we left Napa, we had to leave that behind, even if it took still more months to get her green card.
Because if things blew up between us, then it could quickly evaporate into nothing.
I wasn’t going to repeat the past. I wasn’t going to put myself in that position again and have to do the therapy and all the other, difficult work. I’d had to rebuild my life. Another life after the wreck left by another wife.
Though I felt different, I was still the same man who had been a shitty husband to Claire. And I’d vowed I’d never do it again.
Yet here I was. I’d set all the rules in place to prevent it but…
Last night and this morning, no one would’ve ever been able to tell that this had been intended to be a marriage only on paper. Because we sure were doing a wonderful job of acting like it was the real thing.
We arrived at the upper garden, as instructed. A glass and wrought-iron round table had been set up under an even larger umbrella. The spot was perfect—at the top of the stairs near a trickling fountain and surrounded by blooming flower pots. Staff had set the table to perfection as if it were the centerpiece of the perfect garden party, complete with nameplates for each of us at assigned seats. Nearby, another table was loaded with food for a buffet-style service.
For just the five of us. Well this was totally Mother’s style. She never did things halfway, and she had an even more important reason than usual to go all-out. The reporter, her assistant and Mr. Man-Bun, the photographer, were waiting nearby, of course.
My parents, however, were nowhere to be seen.
Julia arrived soon after we did, her dark hair tucked into a ponytail under a black satin baseball cap. Her eyes were hidden behind giant mirrored sunglasses and she had cherry red lipstick on to match the cherries printed on her romper. In the past, those shades would have hidden a hangover or bloodshot eyes, but it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen Julia drink a thing since we got here.
Julia had a thick copy of French Vogue tucked under her arm. She laid the magazine down beside her place setting and pulled off her sunglasses to set them there too.
“Hey! Good morning, lovebirds,” she crooned in as chipper a voice as I’d ever heard from her. Wow. She seemed like a different person than the sullen and cynical teen I’d known so well. My little sister was apparently growing up.
Julia then snatched one of the colorful cloth napkins that had been neatly folded, she placed that near her arrangement. She angled her head this way and that, looking