For the Love of Us Page 4

  I want him to bite me, to feel his teeth as he playfully teases my nipples.

  Oh, God, I need to cum so bad.

  Mwah.

  Brad lays a loud smacking kiss on my cheek breaking the scene running through my mind.

  “Thank you for another tasty dinner.”

  Shit. These fantasies are going to kill me. I feel the wetness between my legs from just my thoughts alone. At this rate, I’m going to need a wardrobe change after each fantasy.

  “What? Oh, yeah, dinner was good. Did you pack your lunch already?”

  I saw him make his lunch earlier. I have no idea what I’m mumbling about. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and focus on what Brad is saying to me.

  “All packed and ready. I love having your leftovers for lunch. The other guys are always jealous when the smell hits the office. Especially on lasagna day.”

  Another kiss on my cheek before he picks up his laptop from the counter in front of me. He strides over and sits on the couch, boots it up, ready to play his mindless game.

  He must have forgotten about Joel and Sherry. I won’t bring it up again. I care about them, but we have our own problems to work through.

  Before joining him on the couch to watch TV, I grab a glass from the cabinet. I really need to cool down after that fantasy. Chugging the entire glass should do the trick. He had better enjoy this game time. I’ll have something sexier for him to play with starting tomorrow.

  I don’t expect anything different than our regular after dinner routine. We sit in our regular spots at either end of the couch.

  It takes me back to when the kids were at home. They all had their claimed spots. Their arguments were never ending, and I swear they sat in one another’s seats just to get a rise. All hell would break loose until I stepped in, raising my voice. Even Brad stops when I shout.

  Thinking about the noises and arguing between my sons makes me miss the chaos a full house could bring. In those moments I wished for quiet. I never thought I would wish it back but that’s exactly what has happened. My house is too quiet and I’m lonely.

  When our boys were little, they drove me insane. Endless wrestling, arguing about nothing, and loud conversations. What I wouldn’t give to hear them bickering, making pew, pew sounds or even some crashing hot wheels noises right about now.

  Brad’s still tapping away, playing his game. I have my iPad in hand, reading my latest romance. The TV is playing softly creating some background noise. Now without the kids here, and with the uneasiness between Brad and me, the house is more silent than ever.

  Snuggling into the corner of the couch, I barely see the words and aimlessly turn the pages. Great, I think to myself. I may as well stop since I’ll have to go back and start this chapter all over again anyway.

  Rising from the couch, I let Brad know I’m heading up to our bedroom for the night. “This book isn’t keeping my attention. Guess I’ll go to bed.”

  Brad looks up from his game just long enough to tell me the same thing he said last night, and the night before. “I’ll be there as soon as I finish this level.”

  “Okay.” My answer is just as routine as his. That game drives me nuts. I guess it helps him shut his brain off, but he forgets to turn it back on for us. Fingers crossed tonight is the last night Brad will sit next to me in his sweats with his laptop on his knee.

  I head up the stairs to our bedroom and change into the unsexy oversized T-shirt I’ve adopted as my PJ’s.

  Next I grab the corner of the heavy comforter and fold it down on my side. The fluctuation in temperature in our sex life isn’t the only change. Going from hot to cold all night is a problem. It makes snuggles and cuddles a thing of the past. Brad feels like a heater which is great during the chilly nights. But when that raging internal fire hits, I’m kicking off the covers. I’m at that age where hot flashes happen. Just another side effect of the impending menopause. Lucky me.

  Some friends told me to think of the flashes as a tropical vacation. I call bullshit on that. I’ll take a real vacation over a hot flash any day.

  I switch on the fan I use all night. It’s at the foot of our bed and points mainly to my side. The constant breeze drives Brad mad. How would he feel if he woke up feeling like it was ninety-nine degrees in the dead of winter?

  This is not the way I want to burn up the sheets. At least climbing in between the crisp sheets has a cooling effect on my body, even if only for a short time.

  My eyes are heavy with sleep. It’s no wonder I’m exhausted. I’ve done a lot of brainstorming and reflecting today. Covers tucked under my chin, fan blowing over me, I drift off quickly.

  Chapter Six

  I slept like a log and didn’t notice any changes in temperature. I assume Brad joined me at some point. His side of the bed is messy. He wakes at the crack of dawn for work and is quiet so he doesn’t wake me. Just once I wish he would wake me up. It has been a long time since we had morning sex. I try to think back to the last time we even woke up together. One of us always leaves the bed before the other wakes. Either he’s off to work or sleeping in on his days off.

  I lie here thinking about my plan, knowing it isn’t going to help me complete my check list. I have eight hours before Brad walks through the door. Each hour is accounted for. One slip up and my whole plan crumbles. Time to quit daydreaming and get my ass out of bed.

  Before I go anywhere else, it’s coffee time. Only today is a new beginning to that routine. A modification of sorts. I’m not showing up in my baggy jeans and oversized T-shirt. It’s the start of a new, confident me. Well, the confident part is a work in progress, but I intend to get there.

  I find the skinny jeans I tossed to the back of the closet a year ago. An impulse purchase without trying them on. I tore the tags off, so I had to keep them. When I finally tried them on at home, I decided they looked good but told myself I was too old to wear them. Those are for the twenty somethings. Today they are for me too.

  I step into the pant legs and shimmy them up past my thighs. A little snug but at least I don’t have to lie down on the bed to zip and button them up. I complete the look with a dark gray fitted T-shirt. The V-neck makes my boobs pop showing a little cleavage. Hey, if you got it, flaunt it.

  I’ve always been petite and curvy. Brad tells me how much he likes my hourglass shape. Or at least he used to mention it. My chest is ample but not spilling out of my bra.

  Seeing my reflection in the closet mirror, I decide I like the way I look right now.

  Feeling the stir of determination and confidence flow through my veins, I grab my red cowgirl boots. I haven’t worn them in a long time and today it just feels right. Sassy, saucy and ready to hit the ground running.

  My cell rings as I pull into the parking lot of the Java Spot.

  It’s Tina looking for an update from last night.

  “Good morning.”

  “Sooooo, tell me! Did Brad notice your hair?”

  “He said it was pretty.”

  Last night that simple compliment felt great and unlike in the past I accepted it. However, sharing it with Tina makes me realize how I want more of his flirting and sweet talk. This morning I am disappointed he didn’t make a bigger deal of my new hair.

  When we dated, Brad was always quick to compliment the way I looked. Once I became a mom, too busy to stop to hear anything, I brushed off his gentle words and flirting. I guess I would stop too if I was continually ignored. Why bother?

  “Oh, babe, I’m sorry. The picture you sent me was gorgeous. You’ll give him the whole package tonight and there’s no way he won’t notice. You might give him a heart attack, but he will notice.”

  She puts her positive spin on the situation, making me refocus. I don’t want to think about the negative and move our conversation onto the check list.

  “I’m going shopping for a new dress, then picking up dinner. I’m running into Target before I shop for the dress. I’m thinking about trying that new store in the mall. They have some prett
y dresses in the window. Can you grab the flowers for me? I ordered ‘em from Gina’s. She said they would be ready around one.”

  “Of course. Why don’t I meet you at your house around 2:30 then I can help you set up?”

  “Really? You don’t have anything else you need to get done today?”

  “Girl! You are the only thing I’m worried about getting done. We need to focus on making sure Brad is so hooked, you can’t walk for a week.”

  “You’re the Best BFF ever!”

  “You do realize you just called me the Best Best Friend Forever, right?”

  “Yes, I know what I said. You’re so great I have to repeat myself!”

  Her groan tells me I’m not as funny as I think. I like cracking myself up.

  Now she’s laughing at me. “You’re a goober!”

  “Yes, but I’m your goober and you love me. I’m getting coffee and need to get moving. I’ll meet you at my place in roughly seven hours! Crap. Gotta go!”

  I hang up so fast I don’t hear her say goodbye. It sounds like I have a lot of time, but I know I will be rushing around in the last hour.

  Like a zombie looking for brains to eat, I follow the scent to the delicious nectar I crave. My go to coffee is a vanilla bean brew. Nothing fancy. No espresso, cappuccino, latte’s or mochas. Just vanilla bean drip coffee with lots of cream and sugar. Jack tells me he’s brewing another pot, so I can have a fresh cup.

  I sit and chat with three tech guys while I wait. Like me, they are regulars. I’m sure they’re all taken by some lucky women. They are three of the sexiest nerds I’ve ever seen.

  They try to include me in the conversation but are talking about things I’m clueless about. Today’s topic is about how important Instagram has become as a marketing tool. I don’t have an Instagram or even a Twitter account. My Facebook page is only to stay in touch with friends who live far away. I can’t remember my password: it’s been months since I last logged in.

  Since they are nice to look at, I pretend I understand, smiling and nodding. Perving over the nerdy guys while passing the time is harmless fun.

  I continue listening to their social media talk until Jack takes me out of the conversation with the words I need to get through my mornings, “Callie, the vanilla coffee’s ready.”

  My thanks are acknowledged with a smile and head nod while helping the next customer. It’s a popular place and the line is long.

  I jump up, filling my travel cup. Since I have a tab, I don’t have to wait in line to pay. A quick wave to the tech guys and I head out the door ready to tackle the next task on my list.

  Time is my enemy. Once I get an idea in my head there is no stopping the forward progress until I complete my goal. If I give myself too much time to think about everything, I will lose the momentum I’ve built up.

  One of my bad habits is placing the things I want last, taking care of everyone around me. Putting this off would be just the kind of thing I brushed under the carpet, delayed for another day. But not this time. It’s too important to toss aside

  When I start the engine, I find myself singing an old shopping song from the kids’ past;

  A shopping we will go.

  Hi ho the merry’o, a shopping we will go.

  It was the silly song I would use to get the boys moving when a trip to the mall was needed, but it’s been years since it last popped into my head. As much as I’m excited to move on with this new part of the life Brad and I have without the kids in the house, I realize how much I miss having them around too.

  This simple song subconsciously brings my past into the present. My throat tightens, making it hard to swallow the sip of coffee I just took. Today represents a lot of forward progress in our family. But the past is important to remember too.

  On the short drive to the mall, I decide we should have a new bedding set. The old, ugly, brown comforter and sheets are faded from years of washing. You might think me frugal, but we’ve never been the type of family to buy new things just for the sake of it. If something wasn’t worn out, we used it until it was. Some say cheap, we called it saving money for college.

  I want to hit up the Target superstore first since they open early. I grab a cart by the entrance, making a beeline to the bedding department.

  The variety of sheets and comforters they have on the shelves for my night of ecstasy is larger than I expected. I pick up a few different kinds. Satin is way too cheesy and therefore not an option. After a while, I find the bed in a bag selection will be the best choice. Having all the components in one purchase will save me time, and more importantly, money.

  Deciding on a plain white set I add some decorative throw pillows for a pop of color. I have always loved blues, especially Tiffany blue. The same color those little boxes come in with the white bow. The treasure hidden within those boxes can make a woman orgasm on the spot.

  With my eye on a navy-blue blanket, I grab it to complete the look.

  The table setting is also an important element tonight. I choose a deep burgundy tablecloth. It will go perfectly with my china. There are some simple crystal candle sticks on sale. I add both to my cart.

  I decide to go to the self-checkout, hoping to save time. Boy, how wrong was I?

  The pillows didn’t have tags. The sale prices didn’t ring up correctly and the machine malfunctions, forcing me to start the process all over again.

  When I finally finish paying, I check the time on my phone. Even with the checkout mishap, I still have plenty of time to spare before moving on to the next item on my list, a dress.

  It’s only 9:43am. The dress store doesn’t open until 10:00am. I finish my coffee while strolling around inside the mall. Taking in my surroundings, I notice the few people waiting for the stores to open. A sweet elderly couple, I’m assuming are both retired, sit on a bench surrounding the fountain in the center of the shopping area.

  It catches my attention because they look at one another, which is something Brad and I rarely do when talking. I can see the intimacy between them, and it makes me long for the same with my husband.

  They look longingly at one another, grinning, engrossed in what the other says. This simple visual is another reminder of how communication is important throughout a relationship. My heart aches thinking about the lack of conversations Brad and I have had in the months since driving the boys back to school.

  I continue to observe the couple when I notice their hands. I tear up when I see what is happening between them. His palm is turned up, her palm laying softly in his. Their fingers are entwined.

  The simple gold band on her left ring finger speaks volumes. Life works in circles. If you stick out the rough times, eventually the good times come around again. That’s a life goal if I ever saw one.

  I imagine Brad and I sitting on a bench in twenty years with that same look of everlasting love shining in our eyes. We’ll get there it’s just going to take effort. Tonight will show him I am ready to try just about anything. Hopefully he’s willing too.

  Chapter Seven

  I walk into the dress shop still loaded down with the bags from Target.

  The woman opening the door greets me with a big inviting smile. The name tag tells me her name is Lily. Her classic black pencil skirt and crisp, white fitted button up blouse accentuate her femininity. The simple black heels complete her elegant look, indicating her professional and classy attitude. Instantly, I put my trust in her. She will help me find a dress fit for the occasion.

  “Good morning, and welcome. How can I help you today?”

  Her smile is infectious.

  “Good morning. What a beautiful store. I’m hoping you can help me find a special dress on short notice.”

  “Thank you for saying so,” she says with another smile. “I’ll do my best to help you,”

  “Great. I only came up with this idea yesterday and the dress is needed for what I have planned for tonight.”

  “Do you have something in mind?” Lily asks.

  “So
mething sexy. I’ve planned a romantic night with my husband–he doesn’t know it yet, now that the kids are out of the house, I want to rekindle the romantic side of things.”

  Maybe this is too much information. She doesn’t know me, but I figure it’s best to lay it all out if she’s going to understand the importance of this purchase. If she knows my end game, she can show me exactly what I need to get there.

  My oversharing appears to catch her off guard. She remains professional while clearing her throat before speaking.

  “Of course. Let’s see what we can find. I’m positive there is something that will do the trick. Let’s go to the large dressing room in the back. Follow me.”

  I follow awkwardly with the shopping bags bumping into the center sales racks a few times.

  After unlocking the door, Lily holds it open for me to walk in.

  “I’m sorry. I should have helped you with your bags. You can place them down over in the corner.”

  I squeeze past her and pile them in the empty corner she pointed to.

  “No worries. I hit up the sales earlier. I want everything to be perfect. I may have gone a little overboard.”

  I stand in the dressing room taking it all in. There’s floor to ceiling mirrors covering the rear wall. They curve around a large slightly raised platform.

  I stare at my reflection and think how much has changed in the last twenty-four hours. This time yesterday I stood in front of another mirror. Now, the difference is noticeable. My hair has a shine it was missing in the unbrushed messy bun I sported for coffee with Tina. The skinny jeans and cowgirl boots were an excellent choice. My simple mascara and pink lip tint kept the natural look of a mom and wife in her forties. I can see the improvement from frumpy to pretty.

  Look good, feel good comes to mind. I should write that on my mirror at home. A reminder that I need to make an effort and take time for myself every day.