Part 16 (2/2)

Archer shakes his head, a shadow crossing his expression. ”She's been really busy.”

Though I suspect Kelsey is keeping herself crazy busy partly to avoid having to deal with the issue of marrying Archer, I keep that thought to myself. Instead I reach out to squeeze Archer's arm.

”You know, I've always thought Kelsey and I were so different,” I tell him. ”But turns out we have a lot in common. We both know when something is so good it would be foolish to change it.”

Archer shakes his head, his mouth compressing. ”If you don't change, you stagnate and start to rot. My parents didn't change for twenty-five years, and look at how miserable they were.”

I don't have an answer to that because it's the truth.

”It wasn't until they got divorced a few years ago that they were finally happy,” Archer continues, turning and heading back to his truck.

”But their relations.h.i.+p wasn't good,” I tell him. ”It took them awhile, but they had to change to find freedom.”

”So do I.” Archer slams the open back of the truck and walks around to the driver's side. ”Marriage to Kelsey is my freedom.”

My heart clenches with painful understanding. Marriage to Dean had freed me too, in so many ways.

”Does she know that?” I ask gently.

”If she doesn't by now,” Archer says, pulling his keys out of his pocket, ”then the past two years have been a waste.”

I realize I can see his point of view on this issue as clearly as I can see Kelsey's. As much as I don't want anything to change about our lives now, if I hadn't been willing to take a risk with Dean almost ten years ago, we'd never have dated and gotten married. I can't even imagine that.

”Archer, she'll come around eventually,” I say, aware it's a painfully inadequate rea.s.surance.

”Yeah, well, I'm not going anywhere whether she does or doesn't.” Archer shakes his head with a laugh. ”Marriage or not, that woman is stuck with me for life. I love her more than I love... air, you know?”

”I know.”

Archer shakes his head again, looking faintly embarra.s.sed by the confession. He opens the truck door and hauls himself into the driver's seat.

”So, you need my help with anything else?” he asks. ”Take care of Nicholas or something?”

An idea sparks in my mind, intensified by my knowledge of Archer and Kelsey's own relations.h.i.+p problems and the undeniable fact that I have to work harder to nurture my marriage.

”Actually, now that you mention it, could you pick Nicholas up from daycare tonight?” I ask. ”Maybe keep him until around eight thirty or so?”

I'm not much good after eight in the evening for anything except watching TV and sleeping, but Dean gets home around five thirty, and that will give us three full hours together.

”Yeah, sure,” Archer agrees. ”I'll take him to the park and food court. He likes that noodle place.”

”Wonderful, thank you so much.”

I go inside to get him Nicholas's spare diaper bag before he heads off. I spend the morning with Nicholas before leaving him at daycare and going to the cafe. At four, I finish my s.h.i.+ft and walk to Avalon Street.

I make a stop at my favorite downtown lingerie shop and purchase several ruffled chemises and two sets of lacy bras and panties. At home, I go upstairs to the bedroom and open my notebook.

Chair Fair underway. Check.

Birthday party orders placed. Check.

Auction donations confirmed. Check.

Daycare payments made. Check.

Cafe schedule done. Check.

Bills paid. Check.

s.e.xy stuff purchased. Check and double-check.

I have absolutely nothing else to think about since my entire To Do list has been completed. I'm all about getting s.e.xy tonight.

I set the notebook on my nightstand and strip out of my dowdy work pants and s.h.i.+rt. I put on a pink-and-black sheer chemise whose open front is held together by a little bow. Then I slither into a pair of matching V-string panties that are hardly the most comfortable thing in the world, but I don't expect I'll be wearing them for long.

I do a quick primping in the bathroom, admiring how the chemise looks both pretty and s.e.xy draped over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hips. Aside from making an effort to lose my pregnancy weight and go to the gym regularly, I haven't paid much attention to my body since I had Nicholas.

A year of breast-feeding, which was both painful and difficult, combined with the unexpected physical demands of a new baby then a clingy toddler, have often made me feel more like a workhorse than a sensual woman.

I turn, still studying myself in the mirror and thinking I look pretty good. All the more reason to stoke the fires again. And even though I do want to know about Dean's fantasies, it's also true I haven't indulged in fantasies of my own in recent months. So this isn't just about Dean. It's about me too. It's about us.

I pull my old, padded bathrobe on over my chemise and belt it closed, then busy myself fluffing up the pillows and smoothing the sheets. I pick up a romance novel by the side of my bed and, to get myself in the mood, I read a few pages of a love scene in which Renaldo is penetrating Lissa's silken petals with his turgid manroot.

”Liv?” Dean's deep voice echoes from the foyer.

”Up here!” I call, adjusting my robe over my lingerie.

I hear his footsteps on the stairs before he comes in, rumpled from a day's work but handsome as the devil in gray slacks and a hunter green s.h.i.+rt, his tie loose around his neck. He stops in the doorway and eyes me in my ragged old padded robe.

”What're you doing in your robe already?” he asks. ”You feeling okay?”

”Just fine.” I smile.

”Where's Nicholas?”

”Archer wanted to take him to the park. They're going to grab dinner at the mall.”

”Oh.” With a shrug, Dean goes into the bathroom.

I hear the water running. I know his routine, and sure enough-a few minutes later he emerges, unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt to change into jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. As I admire his chest and the smooth musculature of his shoulders, a ribbon of l.u.s.t uncoils inside me.

Yes!

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