RidingtheWaves (2 page)

He meowed, making a complete circle around her leg before
sticking his pink nose in the air, snubbing her. “You little fart.” She laughed
as he sauntered toward the family room. Stuck-up Morton liked attention on his
terms only. A quick hello usually kept him content for the remainder of the
evening.

After kicking off her shoes, she laid the shopping bag on
the counter beside a decorative bowl of artificial vegetables, removed two
baked potatoes wrapped in foil from the refrigerator and placed them in the
oven.
Brent Delaney? Unbelievable.

Yes, it was unbelievable how she reacted to him after all
these years—like a sex-starved hussy. If she didn’t rid him from her thoughts,
she’d be marching down the hallway for a tumble with her dildo and there
wouldn’t be
any
dinner tonight. She’d worked hard this morning prepping
the meal and baking a cake too. She wanted everything perfect. Hopefully she
wouldn’t over-broil the steaks. They’d been marinating in a garlic herb sauce
all day, but she was infamous for ruining a good cut of meat.

While the potatoes baked, she filled the bathtub with hot
water and strawberry bubble bath. Anything fruity sat high on Jared’s list of
preferences. Tonight she’d bring out the ammo. If Plan A,
the costume
,
failed, she’d resort to Plan B. Wow, she had no Plan B. She’d conjure up
something quick if she needed to.

She stripped off her clothes and inched into the steamy, hot
tub. Heavens, it felt good. The bubbles disintegrated with a soft fizzing
sound. She lay back with a long, content sigh, enjoying the therapeutic heat,
but her gaze kept roaming to the showerhead. The urge to detach it from the hook
grew heavy. If she yanked it down now and used it, she’d likely be so relaxed
she’d fall asleep before Jared arrived. Well, maybe one little spray to bring
her to the verge of orgasm wouldn’t hurt. It would enhance her mood, and she’d
crawl all over him until he couldn’t say no. It’s not like she wanted to change
the
sprinkle
adjustment to
pulse
or anything. Just one measly
shot of the water and she’d be good to go.

Oh God.
Before jumping up and yanking the damn thing
down, she bathed quickly and climbed out of the tub. After grabbing a stiff
towel from the cabinet, she patted her lower half dry, being careful not to
touch her overly sensitive crotch. Any contact to that area right now would
send her flying back into the shower, and no doubt she’d change it to the
pulse
setting and hit the faucets full blast.

After patting the water off her arms, she doused herself
with a strawberry-scented body spray. The vapors caused her to sneeze not once
but three times consecutively. When it completely evaporated on her skin and
faded to a soft, sweet scent, she dressed in the harem costume and pulled on a
long, furry robe to stay warm.

Because Jared was a prompt, never-a-minute-late man, she
removed the robe at exactly 7:25, dimmed the lights and sat down at the table,
crossing her legs. The flames from three tapered candles danced enticingly, and
she’d topped off the décor with two glasses of white wine.

Those candles…long and lean and durable and bendable when
warm…she’d completely lost her frigging mind.

The kitchen glowed with romance and passion. She loved her
home. The black and multiple shades of orange she chose for the walls and floor
gave it a warm, cozy feeling. It wasn’t too big or too tiny of a house, but was
perfect for a small family.

Tonight they would put an end to the boring, almost
nonexistent lovemaking routine they’d fallen into. She’d dance the tango naked
if she had to, or pole dance with the family room floor lamp. Aha, Plan B.

Seven forty-five slipped by, and then eight o’clock without
any trace of Jared. Had the weather delayed him too?

Why hadn’t he called?

She stood abruptly, pulling on the robe, then dug the cell
phone out of her purse and punched in his number. After three rings, her call
transferred to voicemail. “Where are you, Jared? Call me.”

Now she worried. She began pacing the family room, stopping
to glance outside through the picture window. The wind wasn’t blowing nearly as
badly, but a heavy wall of snow continued to fall.

Rather than trudge back and forth in a never-ending path, she
turned on the television, sat down on the couch, picked up her cell phone and
called him again, only to encounter the same recording.

Where the hell could he be?

Time ticked by in long, agonizing, nail-biting minutes.

The thought of calling the highway patrol and local
hospitals crossed her mind, but if something happened, someone surely would’ve
contacted her by now.

She picked up her cell and called him once more. It didn’t
ring and connected directly to voicemail. Apparently he’d shut off his phone.
Why would he do that? To avoid talking to her?

What the hell?

From the moment she’d owned a cell phone, her dad impressed
upon her to never turn it off, and to make sure she carried it wherever she
went. That way she could be tracked if she’d gotten lost. Ever since, if not in
her purse, she had it in a pocket or stuffed in a sock.

Too bad he hadn’t preached that theory to Jared. Were her
attempts to fix their relationship like applying a Band-Aid to a gaping wound?

Rather than lay the cell phone down, she pressed in her
mom’s number. Mom was the family rock, blessed with an ability to mend
emotional wounds. Her soothing voice alone nurtured a battered soul back to
health. Because caring for Grandma physically drained her, Annalee rarely
confided in her anymore. She refused to add any additional worries to fuss
over, but just listening to her soft tone was comforting enough.

During the second ring, her mom answered the phone.

“Hi, Annalee.”

“Hi, Mom. How’s Grandma?”

“She’s about the same, dear. How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound it. What’s the matter?”

How did moms always sense something was wrong? “I’m just
really tired. I’ve been working a lot of hours.” Her stomach sputtered in shame
for having lied to her mom. Who did that? She never had before, but it was
easier than explaining the woes of the past two months.

Annalee’s parents were in their late sixties. She’d been a
surprise—a change-of-life baby who’d caused a huge shock. They considered her a
miracle since the doctor diagnosed her mom with a severe case of endometriosis
and said she’d never conceive. No way would she let them down by telling lies.

“How is my handsome, future son-in-law?”

“He’s great.” Lie number two. For sure, she was going to go
to hell. “He’s also been working a lot.”

“I’ll have a guest list to you next week for the wedding.
I’m just so exhausted. It’s hard to find time to do anything.”

“Don’t rush.” The wedding wasn’t an exciting topic lately.
And before proceeding with any further plans, she wanted things right with
Jared. “Have you considered increasing the amount of time the home health aides
spend with Grandma?”

“They’re here quite a bit. I’ve even started playing bingo
once a week again.”

“Finally. You should have done that six months ago.” Her mom
started playing bingo years before Annalee was born. And as far back as she
could remember, every Wednesday night, right after dinner, her mom loaded her
bag of ink dabbers into the car and drove off. Annalee wouldn’t see her until
the next morning while dressing for school.

“Your father tried talking me into it, but I didn’t feel I
could enjoy myself.”

“Well, I’m happy for you. Make sure you take time for
yourself, Mom, otherwise you’ll burn yourself out, and that’s not good for you
or for Grandma.”

“Oh she just woke up. I’d better go help her to the bathroom
before she has an accident. She’s becoming very incontinent.”

That was another sad decline in her health. “I love you,”
Annalee said.

“I love you too, dear.”

“Give Daddy and Grandma a kiss for me.” She ended the call
and set the phone on the coffee table, noticing the quick conversation released
the tension in her shoulders and lower neck.

She walked into the kitchen, blew out the candles then
packed up dinner and placed it in the fridge.

No sooner had she changed into a pair of flannel pajamas and
snuggled in the corner of the couch than Morton climbed onto her lap, pressing
his paws into her thighs, feeling for a comfy spot. He only cuddled when he
sensed an upset.

For a long time she petted his back in a comforting manner
to soothe them both. Exhausted and confused, she dozed off.

She woke with a start. Morton lay purring in her lap, the
soft vibration massaging her legs. She grabbed her cell and checked the time.
“Eleven o’clock.” She’d slept nearly two hours?

Where’s Jared?
She glanced around the room but found
not a single sign of his presence.
Where in the hell is he?
He’d never
stayed out all night.

Her heart pounded so loudly it thumped inside her ears.

She dumped Morton on a vacant cushion, jumped off the couch
and charged into the kitchen. Jared’s keys and wallet lay on the counter and
his shoes sat by the door.

With a deep, heartfelt sigh she sauntered into her bedroom
but found it vacant. Just then she heard the faint spray of the shower. She
approached the bathroom door and quietly turned the handle, opening it a crack.
The relief of seeing him standing inside the stall was so great tears bubbled
in her eyes. But they hadn’t even spilled when a familiar powdery scent
spiraled to her nose. Hastily but quietly, she closed the door and sneezed into
her sleeve.

That
was not
Willow’s perfume. Dear God, that
was
not
Willow’s perfume reeking from his rumpled clothes on the floor!

She wanted to throw up.

“Take a deep breath,” she mumbled through a gasp of air.
“You’re upset. Your mind could be playing tricks.”

Talking herself down, she carefully reopened the door
and…sneezed. Jared jumped and threw open the shower door.

No way. No fucking way. Her fiancé! Her best friend! The
woman she used to ride double with on her bike and share diaries with when they
were little girls.

Is that why he wouldn’t answer his phone? Had he shut it off
so it wouldn’t disrupt the sexual tryst with Willow?

Damn him to hell. And her.

Annalee stared into his eyes before he quietly closed the
shower door. He didn’t accomplish it quickly enough to hide the long, red welts
tainting his abdomen in the shape of an X, or the two additional marks
stretched across his thighs.

She didn’t ask. She didn’t have to. And if guilt had a face,
she’d found it on Jared before he hid behind the glass door. Hopefully her eyes
didn’t express the horror or pain chewing a hole through her stomach. When
she’d confront him, she wanted to remain as calm as possible. No accusations.
No screaming. No jealous rage.

She wanted to puke.

And scream.

Now she knew why that woman fled the store in such a hurry.
She also knew, without a doubt, why she’d purchased the whip.

How could they? No wonder Willow acted like a bitch earlier.
The woman wanted Jared. And she couldn’t have him all to herself with Annalee
in the way.

She closed the bathroom door, walked into the family room
and sat down on the couch. It wasn’t bad enough that one knot after another
twisted her guts, but the engagement ring on her finger suddenly felt
meaningless and foreign, to the point of suffocation. She twisted and tugged it
during the jog into the kitchen before she grabbed the dish soap and doused her
finger.

As sure as her lungs required air to breathe, she was done
with Jared. Never again could she kiss his lips or hold his hand, thinking
they’d been in contact with Willow’s pussy.

The visual crawled inside her head like a horror film.
Nausea churned in her stomach and her temples throbbed while a lump crept up
the back of her throat. Closing her eyes, she swallowed, hung her head over the
sink and took a deep breath.
No tears
. She refused to shed one tear on
their behalf.

After she dried her hands, she laid the ring on top of his
wallet. Some screwups were forgivable and worth a second chance, but not
cheating. Never cheating.

“Annalee, what are you doing?” Jared asked, scaring the shit
out of her.

She spun around to see him standing in the kitchen entrance,
staring at the ring. “Breaking an engagement.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s over, Jared. We’re through. Done.”

His gaze darted to her eyes. “Why?” He leaned against the
wall, crossing his arms. “Because I came home late and forgot to call? That’s
petty bullshit.”

“No. Because your clothes stink like Willow’s cheap perfume.
Can you explain that? And while you’re at it, explain the whip marks on your
stomach and thighs.”

Meekly he shook his head and his shoulders drooped. “You
don’t understand.”

“Try me.” After a silent, two-minute, heart-wrenching pause,
she squeezed her hands into fists. “I’m waiting.”

“She’s not like you.”

Jesus, he wasn’t even going to try to deny it. “Of course
she’s not like me. If she were, you wouldn’t be fucking her.”

“You’re a good girl, Annalee.”

“But not good enough for you?”

He shifted footing. “I don’t mean it like that. I need
more.”

“What in the hell is the
more,
Jared? I’ve given you
everything I can.”

“That’s just it. You give what you can, not what I need.”

“What!” She raked a hand through her hair, balling a fistful
at the base of her neck, and glanced at the ceiling. Dear God, she’d never been
a violent person, but she needed strength not to punch him in the damn nose.

Refocusing on his face, she glared into his eyes. “What do
you need? Your underwear ironed? Your shoes polished? Be more specific, Jared.”