- Home
- Jennifer Peel
The Sidelined Wife Page 16
The Sidelined Wife Read online
Page 16
“Do you come here often?” I asked.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Was this another one of your make-out spots?”
With a playful grin, he took his ball cap off and did his best to place it on my head. He didn’t account for my thick, unruly curls, but he managed to make it stay. “You’re the first woman I’ve brought up here.”
I looked around at the beauty that surrounded us. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you. I needed to get away.”
“The best is yet to come.” He picked up the pace and took me along for the ride.
I heard it before I saw it. The sound of rushing water played in the background. Reed deftly maneuvered us off the trail and led us through the grass and brush to a small, worn path that led to the river and waterfall. The falls expanded the width of the river, and what it lacked in height, it made up in beauty with breath-taking rock formations.
“Let’s go sit on the bank.” Reed’s voice was filled with a childlike excitement.
I followed him. He seemed to know exactly where he wanted to land. It was the perfect spot. It was as if the two flat rocks were placed there for our use. Reed helped me sit down before joining me. The rock was warm from catching the sun’s rays, which now landed on me.
I took Reed’s hat off, closed my eyes, and breathed in the peace of the river and the sound of the falls. Nature was breathing life into me.
“This is heaven.”
“Yes, it is.”
I opened my eyes to find Reed staring at me. Suddenly, I felt shy. That was a feeling long dormant. I pulled my knees up to my chest and looked out over the expanse of the river. A fish jumped out to catch his dinner.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
I rested my head on my arms and looked his way. The sun illuminated his handsome features, adding more sparkle to his eyes. “It’s been a long time since someone has found me beautiful.”
He grasped one of my curls and ran his fingers down it. “I doubt that. They just weren’t brave enough to tell you. It took me twenty years. Granted, you were married most of that time, or dating idiots like Ben Averill.” His grinned turned wicked.
I nudged him with my shoulder. “He was a nice guy, until he broke up with me.”
He pressed his lips together as if he was debating on what to say next. “Peter and I caught him kissing Mandy Olson.”
I sat up. “What?” Ben told me he hated Mandy Olson.
“Peter may have punched him. And I threatened to tell everyone that he—you know, maybe I’ll keep that to myself since I’m in the presence of a lady.”
That piqued my interest, but I didn’t press him. And I could guess.
“Anyway, we made him promise to break up with you.”
“Peter never said anything.”
“The guy was a loser. We didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“That seems to be my lot in life. Cheaters.” The waterfall became my focus again.
“Hey.” He rubbed my arm.
I met his concerned eyes.
“Your ex is a special kind of stupid. But let’s change the subject. We’re here to have fun. And I have the most amazing dinner and dessert planned.” He stood up and reached his hand out. This time I took it without hesitating.
“You’re a fast learner,” he teased. “Before you know it, you’ll be grabbing my hand first tonight.” He pulled me up.
“You think so?”
He gave my hand a squeeze. “I hope so.”
~*~
As the sun sank down below the horizon, I found myself next to Reed in a camp chair, eating the most delectable foil dinner of garlic shrimp and potatoes, and listening to the cricket’s chirp and the fire crackle. The glow of the fire warmed me, as did the man next to me. He couldn’t have been more thoughtful. Foil packets with apple crisp sat baking in the coals, only proving what an exceptional human Reed was. I loved apple crisp. The sweet smell of the apples and cinnamon in the air only added to the ambiance. And although I thought I would be too nervous to eat, I found I was more than comfortable and hungry.
Using my fork, I pointed at the food on my paper plate. “You weren’t lying. This is amazing. Thank you.”
“I’m happy you’re enjoying it. I wasn’t sure if you liked seafood.”
“Love it.”
“Duly noted.” He took a bite of his own food, chewed, and swallowed. “What other things do you love?”
“Food-wise?”
“Food, wine, movies, sports—please say football. Men preferences?”
I laughed. “Definitely love football. Men are questionable, unless I’m related to them and even then, Peter and James push it.”
His laughter filled the chilly night air. “We will see what we can do about your aversion to the opposite sex.”
“That’s a tough job.”
“I know. I’ve been reading your blog. Do you really think all men are evil and must die?”
“You took that out of context. I said, ‘must be destroyed,’ not ‘die.’”
“I’m pretty sure I read it exactly the way you intended it.”
“You know, my rules state no men allowed.”
“It says no husbands, so I qualify.”
“Come to think of it, you would make a good wife for someone.”
He fluttered his eyes. “These hairy legs don’t look great in heels, but I did get an A in home economics.”
“Let me guess. You wanted to meet pretty girls.”
“That’s still my objective in life.”
“Hmm. I bet.”
“Judging by the woman sitting next to me, I do okay in that department.”
I leaned over and nudged him with my shoulder. That’s how the rest of our night went. Playful conversation, good food, and laughter, lots of laughter. Best night in a long time. So good, we lost track of time and didn’t leave until well after midnight. Then Reed made it more adventurous—we drove home with the top down on his jeep, the heater blowing on me all the way home, the wind whipping through my hair. The twinkle-filled night sky made up for the chilly air.
I almost felt like a teenager again. Especially when the moment came. You know the one. The door scene. He insisted on walking me to the door even though I thought he should leave me and take off. I didn’t want anyone to see us together. But since it was two in the morning by the time we arrived, he thought the gentlemanly thing to do was make sure no one was lurking in the bushes or my house. I assured him I had a great alarm system, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
He walked around to get my door. Hand holding was part of the package again. And maybe there was a tingle there when he took it. And maybe I was a little too tired and not thinking straight, because I found myself staring up at him and wanting to run my hand across his stubbled cheek. Not only that, I longed to get lost in his eyes. Eyes that no longer held a mischievous boy’s glint, but the look of a man who yearned.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the still night.
“Let’s get you inside.” He was using hushed tones too.
I followed his lead, paying attention to the way his thumb brushed my hand and how close he walked next to me. The smell of campfire and his cologne made me feel some other things. Was that desire? It had been so long.
We walked up the porch steps, slow and deliberate, taking cover under the porch, landing at the door.
I looked down at our hands. He didn’t seem in a hurry to let go. I lifted my head to meet his gaze. “I had great time.”
“Me too.” He drew closer and took my other hand. The space between us began to evaporate. What was he doing? He leaned in, his breath was warm. His lips, oh, his lips were—
A stupid, girlish giggle escaped me.
His head popped up in shock, maybe embarrassment.
I knew I felt both. I sighed. “I feel like I say this a lot to you, but I’m sorry.”
In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting a goodnight kiss, and I never imagined us kissing.r />
He dropped one of my hands and inched back. Consternation flashed in his eyes. “Sam, I’m not a child.”
“I know.”
The yearning was back in his eyes, erasing the frustration from the seconds before. “Close your eyes.”
My eyes did the opposite and widened.
His smile said he wasn’t deterred. He edged forward, running his hand through my wind-blown hair. “Close your eyes, Sam.”
As if hypnotized by the sound of his sultry voice, my eyes fell shut. With my eyes closed, my other senses were heightened. The finger he ran down my cheek left a trail of sparks in its wake. His lips took over where his finger left off. He blazed a path of soft kisses leading to the corner of my mouth. I held my breath in anticipation. He let it brew and stir while he hovered near my lips, teasing me with his warm breath. There was a passion and an angst I had never experienced before.
His hands went to work cupping my face. My own hands landed on his chest and instantly liked what they felt. They, of their own accord, moved over his defined chest. And before I knew it, Reed brushed my lips with his, testing the waters. After one more gentle caress, he pressed his lips against mine. My hands glided up his chest and around his neck. His tongue invited my lips to part, giving me a taste of what he had to offer. It was sweet and sensual. And over too soon.
When he backed away, my eyes fluttered open. The kiss ended so abruptly, I wondered if maybe I had done something wrong. Or maybe I was horribly out of practice and he hadn’t reveled in it the way I had.
My eyes locked with his under the light of my porch. In front of me stood a man that left me wanting.
His penetrating gaze, his stance, they all said one thing—see me.
I saw.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was too old to be up this early reliving every moment, touch, and kiss with Reed. The kiss. Oh, the kiss. I don’t remember first kisses being that good.
Except, I didn’t think it was that good for Reed. After he kissed me and stared at me for a few seconds, he saw me to my door and made sure the premises were secure before saying goodbye, but that was it. No, I’ll call you later, or wow Sam, that was amazing, it lived up to all my teenage fantasies about you.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t expect him to say that. And maybe I hadn’t fantasized about him, but that kiss was fantasy worthy. Like, relive over and over again. I had been doing just that for the past hour after a restless few hours of sleep.
The sun was barely up, but my room was bright since I hadn’t replaced the curtains. I should get on that so I didn’t have any “flasher” moments like Reed. He never did tell me if he’d had dinner at his admirers’ yet. Perhaps he would never tell me because this was a one-and-done like I imagined it would be. So why was I suddenly disappointed by that? Had I offended him one too many times? Yes, the giggling before the kiss was lame, but I responded appropriately after that. Maybe my breath was wretched. The shrimp was tossed with garlic, but he had eaten it too, and I quite enjoyed the way he tasted. I could still taste him now.
This was so ridiculous. I was a mother of a teenager. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. It was a date. I survived it, even enjoyed it. It’s over. Period.
I held my stomach trying to stave off the flutters I felt there when I thought of Reed. I had already checked my phone, even though it was early, to see if he had texted.
I threw off my covers and stared down at my frumpy flannel mom pajamas with polka dots, and sighed. I was no longer the wannabe hot babe in silk nighties. Not like I would wear sexy pajamas even if I owned some. I had a teenage son in the house. But maybe that’s why Neil looked elsewhere.
Reed probably instinctively knew I was the kind of woman who valued comfort and warmth over pretending to be nighttime eye candy. I used to figure, flannel came off as easy as silk, and it was less embarrassing for my son to see me in it. Cody would hate for me to ever mention it, but he was afraid of the dark for the longest time, and many nights he ended up sleeping on our floor until he was about nine years old. I would wake up and there he would be, curled up with a blanket by my bedside. I missed those days.
Reed’s teenage fantasy had grown up to be a middle-aged, flannel-wearing, hair-dying, divorced mom. Now that he’d figured that out, we could all move on.
That’s exactly what I was doing. I traded in my frumpy pajamas for another sexy outfit—oversized t-shirt and yoga pants. It went perfectly with my twenty-year-old workout video from back in the day. Who didn’t love a little Tae Bo? No one had ever toned my butt and thighs like Billy Blanks. And bonus, it was in the privacy—or semi privacy, still needed to get curtains—of my own home. No little hard bodies running around reminding me why I was single at almost forty.
I kicked, punched, and squatted until I was drenched in sweat. Maybe I wore flannel to bed, but at least I knew there was a somewhat toned body underneath all the layers. That’s what counted. At least that’s what I told myself.
By mid-morning, I was ready and dressed to face the new day. Cody was ready too; he kept texting me the SOS emoji. I guessed that was his way of saying come and get me. He’d made it longer than I thought he would. I supposed that meant I would be buying another mind-numbing video game for him. I hoped he had some fun and was still talking to me.
During my drive into the city, I did my best to not think about anything that had happened in the last eighteen hours. I hoped the person I was not thinking about wasn’t coming to Sunday dinner. I wasn’t ready to laugh about it yet. Unfortunately, I kept thinking about how much I would have loved a repeat of what went down on the porch.
All these thoughts, or non-thoughts, had me mentally and emotionally unprepared to face what was lurking for me at Gelaire’s.
When I pulled in behind the shiny, new red Camaro in front of Gelaire’s Greystone, it never even occurred to me that Gelaire had another visitor. And there was nothing in my history with Neil that would have ever given the slightest hint he’d purchase a sports car. He watched National Geographic, for goodness sakes, and his idea of fun was looking at gravestones online. His car—my car that I drove now—screamed expensive, but in that boring-dad-bod sort of way.
Worse was how I found out that the car was Neil’s. There I was, looking forward to seeing my kid, minding my own business. And she appeared. When I exited my car, she opened the door of the Camaro on the passenger side. No one was in the driver’s side.
I froze on the busy street and watched her toss her long blonde hair before leaning against the sleek new car. It still had a dealer tag on it. She wore a sports bra and tight exercise pants that showed off her tiny bare baby bump and toned body. There was no way she was due in October or November. I’m sure I looked that big in my first trimester. I bet she didn’t even have swollen ankles. Something swelled in me worse than any amount of water retention had. Would this hate ever fade?
She causally looked at her cell phone as if she didn’t have a worry in the world, not knowing or probably even caring that she had destroyed mine and my son’s life. I wanted to lash out at her. But I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. This hate I held only hurt me. I refused to let myself give her any more power over me. She had taken enough; she would not have my dignity. I could, at the very least, keep that.
I steadied myself and took a breath, knowing Neil must be inside with our son. All at once, I wanted to run in and save Cody if needed, then run the other way to save myself from facing Neil. But Cody would always win, always.
When my wedges hit the sidewalk, two things happened. The bimbo was alerted to my presence and she gave me the loveliest of snide grins while appraising my boyfriend jeans and t-shirt. I gave her no satisfaction of a response one way or the other; we both knew she had won, so what was the point of engaging her? Instead, I focused on the house, only to see Neil walking out. But not my Neil. This Neil had dyed his graying sandy hair a deep brown. And please tell me those weren’t hair plugs where his receding hairline used to be. Was he wearing skinny j
eans? I didn’t even like it when Cody wore them.
Neil obviously wasn’t prepared to see me either. Even from a distance, I could see the crimson flood his face. He looked between his past and future. Past is where his focus landed.
“Sam, I didn’t know you would be here already.” His eyes were pleading with me not to judge him for his desperate attempt to look like he belonged in a boy band.
I didn’t know what to say. I stood stunned by his change, inside and out. Who was this man standing in front of me running his fingers through his hair, trying his best not to touch the grafted in parts? Certainly not the man I had pledged my heart and soul to almost two decades ago. That man would have laughed at the man standing in front of me. The brown hair did not suit him. It made him look pale and unnatural.
My mouth may not have worked, but my feet did. I headed for the door he recently exited.
Neil met me head on, not letting me pass. “How are you, Sam? You look good.” He kept his stilted voice down.
I couldn’t say the same for him, or acknowledge him, but Roxie could and did.
“Baby, we need to go. I’m going to be late for Pilates.”
I hated her even more for being able to do Pilates while pregnant, and for calling him baby. He hated cutesy names like that. Perhaps the man standing in front of me didn’t. I didn’t know this man.
“I’ll be right there,” he snapped.
“Don’t let me keep you.” I sidestepped him.
He gently grabbed my arm. “Sam.”
I looked at his hand touching my bare skin. It didn’t belong there. I felt nothing but my skin crawl from his touch. I pulled away.
His eyes pooled with regret.
“Neil,” Roxie yelled.
Neil shook his head and walked away at her command. I didn’t get a second glance.
Internally, I shook my head too. Is this what he really wanted? Someone to change him? I didn’t bother to watch him drive away. I had already done that. I refused to do it again or let it affect me like it had that day. I wished I could say that he didn’t affect me at all. But that would have been a lie.