CLAIMING HIS WIFE

RORY REYNOLDS

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Copyright © 2019 by Rory Reynolds
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 to second chances…
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 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue

Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Rory Reynolds

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 CHAPTER ONE

MALLORY

HE’S TWO HOURS LATE. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I shouldn’t be
because this is our new norm. Scott spends more and more time at the
office, and even when he is home, he’s distracted and inattentive at best. At
worst, he’s annoyed by my presence. All the little things he used to love
about me seem to be just one more thing he finds aggravating.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m a bit of a mess. The word klutz doesn’t even
cover the level of catastrophe that I am. When shopping, things just jump
off shelves at me. I trip over thin air like it’s an Olympic sport and I’m
going for gold.
I’m easily distracted which is problematic because I tend to forget what
I’m doing… especially when doing things like baking. I love to bake but I
hate waiting for things to bake, so I do other things while waiting, and then
I forget that I have something in the oven until the smoke detector starts
blaring.
I’m sometimes forgetful. Okay, a lot of times I’m forgetful. In the last
three months, I’ve forgotten the alarm code five times. Three of those times
I couldn’t find my cell phone to answer the call from the security company,
so the police were dispatched. Officer Shelley has a great sense of humor,
thank God, and just laughs while helping me. I’m a bit of a running joke,
but I don’t mind because I know I’m a wreck.
Scott knew all of this about me from the start. On our first date, I spilled
my wine, bumped a waiter causing a tray of pasta to hit the floor, and
tripped on a curb ripping the sleeve of his suit jacket while trying to keep
my balance. Needless to say, I was shocked when he called me the next day.
 He laughed with me when disaster struck and took everything in stride.
Even when I nearly broke his penis… if a man can forgive that level of
klutziness, he’s a keeper. Our relationship was hot and heavy from the start.
Within two months I moved out of my little apartment and into his condo.
Within six months we were engaged. Two months later we were married.
Five years later and I think our marriage might be over.
I check my phone for the dozenth time and am disappointed when there
aren’t any messages. It’s our anniversary and he forgot, again. After a few
minutes’ deliberation, I decide to text him.
Hi honey! Just checking to see when you’ll be home.
I send the message, and it almost instantly shows he read it, but the little
dots that indicate he’s replying are absent.
He’s just busy. He’s not ignoring me…
As a distraction, I busy myself checking dinner… the roast is beyond
well-done and moving towards becoming beef jerky. The creamy au gratin
potatoes are looking a bit like shoe leather covered in cheese. The crunchy
asparagus is limp. In other words, dinner is ruined. I spent hours getting
everything just right for nothing.
I close the oven door a little harder than necessary and cringe when the
clock that hangs on the wall crashes to the floor causing the glass to crack.
My eyes start to burn with tears that I won’t allow to fall… I don’t even like
the damn clock. My mother-in-law gave it to us as a housewarming gift
when we moved into my dream home in my dream neighborhood. It’s a
hideous thing with a rooster on it and completely clashes with the modern
kitchen. I quickly clean up the mess, then check my phone.
Still no response from Scott. I stare at the little screen with indecision.
To message again or not? I look down at the sexy dress I bought just for
tonight in hopes that Scott would finally see me. The lacy red corset and
matching panties underneath it is designed to seduce. I’m not even going to
lie, I’m horny and desperate for some affection. It’s been eighteen months
since Scott made love to me, and that last time was mechanical and lacked
our usual passion.
Oh, fuck it. I’m texting him again.
Will you be home soon?
I chew my bottom lip while I wait. Again, he reads the text almost
immediately, this time the three little dots start bouncing, and a little thrill
of excitement warms my blood.
 I’ll be there when I get there.
My heart stutters in my chest, and not in a good way. I know that is a
brush off and a veiled ‘leave me alone,’ but I can’t stop my fingers from
responding…
I miss you.
Jesus, Mallory. Quit nagging. I’m busy. It’s called work, and it’s what
keeps a roof over your head.
Those tears that I was holding back? No more. They stream down my
face ruining the makeup I spent forever applying while watching a tutorial
on YouTube. Thirty minutes later, dinner has been disposed of, and the
kitchen is sparkly clean. I strip off my little black dress and hang it up.
My reflection catches my eye in the floor length mirror, and I take in my
appearance. My alabaster skin sets off the crimson lace of the lingerie. I’ve
always thought that my hips are a little too wide and my breasts a little too
big, but Scott always made me feel beautiful. “You’re my very own 50s
pinup model,” he used to say. Now he doesn’t see me. After some debate, I
slip on my silk robe. Just because dinner was a bust doesn’t mean that I
can’t still seduce my husband.
Tonight is the night that we end our dry spell.
My phone dings from the kitchen and I run to check it, hoping it’s Scott
saying he’s on his way home. It’s not, it’s Zack, my best friend.
How’s it going?
Did Scott remember your anniversary? If he didn’t, Jen knows a good
hitman…
I’m assuming you’re fucking like the horny little bunny you are since
you’re not responding.
Get ‘em, girl!
Wine. I need wine.
With the biggest glass of wine known to man I plop down on the couch
and send a text breaking the bad news to Zack.
He forgot. He’s still at work.
The message barely goes through before my phone is ringing. I tap the
green button, and before I even have the phone to my ear, I can hear Zack
ranting.
“…Fucking prick.”
I hear someone in the background agree, probably our friend Jen, who
apparently knows a good hitman.
 “Seriously, Mal, you deserve so much better than this.” The ferocious
certainty in Zack’s voice brings on another wave of tears because he’s right.
I do deserve better than this. So does Scott.
“Damn straight she does!” Jen agrees.
“I know. You’re right,” I reluctantly admit. Up until this moment, I have
defended Scott to my friends, but in my heart of hearts, I know it’s over.
“Halleluiah! Finally, you admit it.”
I can’t hold back a sob, my tears falling in earnest now.
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. Scott is the biggest fool in the world. You’re
amazing, and he’s a fucking dick for not treating you like a princess.”
“He used to. What did I do to make him stop loving me?”
I can practically hear Zack grinding his teeth. I know exactly the look
he has right now, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare, his jaw tight, and
lips thinned to white lines turning his handsome face into a mask of rage
that would send even the bravest person running. “You didn’t do anything.
You’re the same woman you were five years ago when you married the
dumbass. He’s the problem.”
I want to believe that he’s right, but the months of rejection have done a
real number on my self-confidence.
“Mallory Jean, stop it. You are not the problem,” Zack insists. “Repeat
after me, ‘I am not the problem. Scott is a douche who doesn’t deserve
me.’”
“Zack…”
“Do it.”
I take a long drink of my wine until the glass runs dry. Liquid courage
for the win! “I am not the problem.”
“And…”
“Zack, he’s not a douche. He’s a good man.”
“Who treats you like you don’t exist. Who forgets anniversaries,
birthdays, Valentine’s day, Christmas. I still don’t understand that one. Your
house looked like Santa’s workshop threw up both inside and out. It takes a
special kind of stupid to miss that one.”
I cringe at the memory. Ever since our first Christmas, we’ve always
gotten up early, excited to exchange gifts. We were like a couple of kids.
After presents, we cooked breakfast and snuggled on the couch watching
our favorite Christmas movies. It’s always just been us. Scott’s family lives
in Utah, and rarely visits and my parents both died in a car accident years
ago. He made it his mission to give me the kind of Christmases I had when
my parents were alive. His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze me. The
fact that he missed Christmas was even more heartbreaking than missing
our anniversary.
“I know. What do I do?” I don’t know if I’m asking Zack or the
universe itself, but Zack seems to have the answer.
“You move in with me.”
“Zack, I can’t do that. You hate having roommates.”
“No, I hate living with slobs and sluts. Especially slobby sluts. You’re
practically OCD in your cleanliness. Besides, you’re family.”
I mull it over. Can I really leave Scott? Is that what I want? Am I ready
to give up on my marriage? On the man I love with my whole heart? I just
don’t know. I’ll give him one more chance. If he brushes me off tonight
when he gets home, then I’ll decide.
Maybe.
“I need to think about it. I can’t decide while I’m upset and a little
drunk. I need a clear head.”
Zack sighs in frustration. “Mal…”
“I promise I’ll think about it,” I reassure him. “It’s late. Think I’m going
to go to bed.”
“Alright, sweets. Call me tomorrow.”
“I will… and Zack… thank you.”
“Anything for you. You know that.”

I t ’ s after one in the morning when S cott comes home . S everal

minutes later he quietly enters the bedroom. He doesn’t turn on the light,
assuming I’m sleeping. I watch as my husband strips off his perfectly fitted
suit revealing strong muscles. As each inch of tanned skin is revealed, my
heart rate spikes. I long to touch him and be touched by him. It’s been so
long I’m starved for affection.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he makes his way
to the bed and finally notices that I’m still awake.
“Why are you up?”
 If I hoped that he would show even a tiny bit of enthusiasm that I waited
up I was mistaken. His question isn’t because he’s glad to spend a little time
with me or of sweet concern that I won’t get enough sleep, no it’s an
accusation.
I lean up on my elbow, letting the sheet slip to reveal my lingerie. His
eyes flick down to my cleavage then back up to my face without showing
the tiniest bit of interest.
“I just missed you and thought maybe…” I trail off because Scott has
that look of annoyance that seems permanently etched on his face.
“It’s late. I’m exhausted and have to be up early,” he says as he climbs
into bed.
Not ready to give up completely, I scoot over until my scantily clad
body is pressed against his. I press a kiss to his shoulder and run my hand
over his chest, down his abdomen, I’m nearly to the waistband of his boxers
when he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away.
“What are you doing?”
I kiss his chest this time. “I figured it was obvious… I’m seducing my
husband.”
Scott lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I just want to sleep. Is that too
much to ask?”
“No—”
He cuts me off before I can say more. “Good,” he says as he rolls over
turning his back to me.
A few minutes later, his breathing evens out with sleep. I lay awake for
hours thinking about what happens next. Zack is right. It’s time to move on
even if it breaks my heart. I can’t live like this anymore. I love Scott but
neither of us are happy, and we deserve happiness.

I t ’ s been a week since the anniversary let down and today is the
day, I’m telling Scott that I’m moving out. Zack and Jen have been helping
me move my things to Zack’s place all week, and Scott hasn’t noticed. Not
that I’m surprised.
Scott came home thirty minutes ago and went straight to his office. I put
the finishing touches on dinner and set the table. After a steadying breath, I
walk down the hall to the office like I’m walking the Green Mile.
Ugh. Quit being a drama queen, Mallory. You’re doing the right thing.
I’ve been telling myself this all week, I’m still not sure I believe it.
“Dinner’s done.”
Scott briefly looks up from his computer, one of those automatic, polite
gestures you make so the other person feels like you’re paying attention, but
I know he’s not really seeing me. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I don’t even bother responding. This time when I repeat my mantra, I
believe it. I am doing the right thing.
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 CHAPTER TWO

SCOTT

MY PHONE DINGS with the email I’ve been waiting for all day. I’m
reading over the message, pleased to find out that the CEO for Thorton
Markets likes our advertising campaign and has decided to hire our
company. It’s a huge account that will double this quarter’s profits.
“How was your day?” Mallory asks.
I can’t hold in my sigh of annoyance at having my work interrupted.
“Fine.”
Shockingly, Mallory doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. She’s always
been a talker. She’ll talk about anything and everything. Prattling on as if
she has all the time in the world and no one’s time is important. I go back to
my email.
“So, I was thinking it’s time for a change.” Great, she’s not done with
the small talk.
“Yeah?” I say distractedly. I’m already thinking about what steps we
need to take tomorrow to get the Thorton campaign off the ground.
“Things aren’t working anymore, and I think it’s time I move out.”
I nod in response to whatever Mallory is saying. She’s always got
something going on, and I honestly don’t care if she wants to repaint the
living room again or plant flowers around the mailbox or buy new curtains
or take up yoga or any of the other dozen things she’s wanted to do.
“I’m moving in with Zack, so I don’t need any of the furniture. I’ve
made an appointment with a lawyer to get things moving… I figure since
we don’t have any kids the divorce should be pretty cut and dry.”
Wait, what? Divorce?
 “What the fuck are you talking about?” I practically shout causing
Mallory to jump in her seat.
“It’s only logical. I don’t make you happy anymore, and you deserve to
be with someone who makes you happy. Not to sound cliché but I’d like it
if we could still be friends. This doesn’t have to turn into a nasty
separation.”
I hear the words that are coming out of her mouth, I do, but she’s not
making any sense.
“I don’t want to be friends.”
Mallory flinches like I slapped her, completely misunderstanding my
meaning. I don’t want to be friends because she’s my fucking wife. We’ve
never just been friends. She’s my world and has been since she tripped into
my life—literally.
“Whatever makes you happy.” Mallory gets up from the table and rinses
her plate before putting it in the dishwasher. Her body is tight with so much
tension; she looks like she could snap at any moment.
“That’s not what I meant, baby.”
“It’s fine, Scott. Really.”
No, it’s not fucking fine. Nothing is fine.
I push away from the table and close the distance between us, she keeps
her back to me, and I know she’s crying. I turn her to face me, and sure
enough silent tears track down her face. I pull her into my arms and hold
her close, loving the feel of her curves against me. God, how long has it
been since I had her in my arms? She fits perfectly against my body, just
like she always has. My cock twitches and I have to push the desire away.
This isn’t the time to think with my dick. I have to fix this somehow.
Mallory can’t leave me.
“Mal, tell me how to fix this.”
“I don’t think you can.” She tries to push away, and I hug her a little
tighter knowing that if I let her go, I’m going to lose her.
“Talk to me, please. Tell me what to do.”
This time when she pushes away, I let her.
“Scott, I’ve been talking… you don’t listen.”
“I’m listening now.”
Mallory shakes her head, and my heart nearly falls out of my chest at
the defeated look on my beautiful wife’s face. What the hell did I do to put
such a terrible look in her eyes?
 “It’s okay, Scott. We had five years together… most of those years were
the best years of my life. We’ve grown apart, and that’s okay. It’s time for
both of us to move on and find happiness elsewhere.”
Grown apart? What the hell is she talking about? I mean, yeah, I’ve
been busy with work lately, but that’s for her. To make sure she has
everything she needs.
“You can’t leave. This is crazy. We’re married, you don’t just give up on
that. You made a commitment to me. To us.”
I get a small flicker of hope when the corner of Mallory’s lips tilts up in
a smile until I see the deep sadness and regret in her eyes. “I have tried. Do
you know how long it’s been since you made love to me? Or even just held
me? Or really kissed me? Not just the good-bye pecks you give out of habit
before you leave for work. I’m talking a toe-curling, breath-stealing kiss.
The kind that leaves us both panting and looking for the nearest flat
surface.”
I think back on the last several months, trying to remember… How long
has it been? I’m still thinking when Mallory gives me the answer.
“Eighteen months. You haven’t touched me in eighteen months.”
“What? Impossible.” She’s got to be wrong. My wife is fucking
gorgeous. She’s got curves for days and perfectly kissable lips that I’ve
never been able to resist. How could I go that long and not bury myself
balls deep inside her every chance I get? The truth of her words is like a
sledgehammer to the head. I’ve been a fool.
“I went grocery shopping and prepped your lunches for the week. The
ticket for your dry cleaning is on the counter, it’ll be ready on Wednesday.
Don’t forget you have a physical next Monday, it’s on your calendar, but I
know you…”
Yeah, she does. If she didn’t schedule those kinds of things, I wouldn’t
bother. I’ve not been sick in years and don’t see the point of wasting the
time, but I do it for Mallory. She’s a worrier. Even now, when she’s getting
ready to leave me, she’s still making sure I’m taken care of. I’ve always felt
like she was too damned good for me, maybe I was right in thinking I don’t
deserve her. If I’ve neglected her so much that she’s talking about
separation—I won’t even think about the D-word.
Divorce can’t be an option.
I have to fix this.
 Before I can think of what to say, how to fix what I obviously broke,
Mallory is grabbing her purse and heading toward the front door. Toward
the end of us.
“Mal… please.”
She stops in her tracks but doesn’t turn to look at me. From one
heartbeat to the next I have her in my arms, my lips crushed to hers. She’s
stiff in my arms but doesn’t push me away, which I take as a positive sign. I
press light, teasing kisses to her lips, trying to coax her to kiss me back.
When that doesn’t work, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and gently
nip it with my teeth. Her eyes flash with that familiar rush of desire proving
that she’s not immune to me. To the passion that’s always burned bright
between us.
I bury my fingers in her long brown hair, gripping it tightly. Her lips
part on a gasp and I take full advantage and deepen the kiss. For the briefest
moment she tries to push away, but my warning growl keeps her in place,
her eyes falling closed as she gives in, becoming pliant in my arms.
Tentatively she brushes her tongue along mine… the slick heat snaps my
control and hers. Our kiss turns fevered, and as it has always been between
us, we ignite.
Her hands are fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer. That’s right, baby,
remember what we are—who we are. With one hand still buried in her hair,
my other grips her ass, giving her the closer that she wants. When she feels
my thick cock pressed against her, she lets out a little whimper and rubs
against it. She breaks away from my lips, gasping for breath. I kiss my way
down her throat, lightly sucking the spot that drives her crazy.
I work the tiny buttons on the front of her shirt until her lace covered
breasts are exposed. My cock twitches at the peek-a-boo effect the white
lace has on her pink nipples. I groan low in my throat as I suck one of those
tempting tips into my mouth through the lace. Her hands are tugging my
hair as she rubs her pussy against me wantonly.
Fuck, she’s hungry for it.
I kiss my way back up to her lips and eat at them like a starving man. I
cup her ass and lift her; her legs wrap around my waist and her arms loop
around my neck. Just like she said, I’m looking for the closest flat surface.
Her back hitting the wall has the same result as dousing her with a bucket of
ice water. Her sex glazed eyes clear, becoming big blue pools of shock. She
drops her legs and arms from me as if burned.
 “No.” she fervently shakes her head.
I cup her face, stopping the motion, moving my lips toward hers,
desperate to rekindle that spark. This time she turns her head and ducks
under my arm putting distance between us again.
“Why?” she asks, wrapping the sides of her shirt around her as if it were
armor. “You haven’t so much as looked at me in over a year. Why now?”
I cringe at her whisper soft words as if she screamed them. “Because I
don’t want you to leave.”
Her head shakes and tears slip from her eyes. “That’s not a good enough
reason.”
I throw my arms in the air in frustration. “I don’t know what you want
to hear from me, Mallory! I know I fucked up. I get that, but I’ll change. I’ll
fix this—”
She bends and grabs her purse that she must’ve dropped when I kissed
her, then takes several steps backward, toward the door. “You can’t fix a
year’s worth of hurts just because you don’t want me to leave. You don’t
see me anymore—”
“I see you now!”
She smiles that same sad smile from earlier. “It shouldn’t have taken me
leaving for you to see me.”
My anger is instantly squashed. “You’re right. Please, just give me a
chance to make this right. You can’t leave me.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. It’s too little, too late.”
And with that, she turns and walks out of the house we bought together.
The house we planned on raising our children in. The house that is just four
walls without her in it to make it a home. When the door snicks closed
behind her, I make a silent vow to find a way to get my wife back. I’ll
figure out what happened with us and fix it. I refuse to give up on Mallory.
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 CHAPTER THREE

MALLORY

I HELD it together all the way to Zack’s, but the minute I crossed the
threshold and saw the looks on my two best friends’ faces—one
sympathetic and one filled with an anger that burns so bright it would rival
the fiery pits of hell—I break down. Zack pulls me to the couch and wraps
me in a comforting hug while I cry on his shoulder. Jen grabs a bottle of
tequila and three shot glasses.
“You sure you don’t want me to sick my friend on him?” Jen asks. “He
doesn’t have to kill Scott… he could just maim him a little.”
The scary thing is I know she’s serious. She would love nothing more
than to have Scott maimed for breaking my heart. Jen doesn’t do emotion.
It’s not that she’s cold or heartless—she’s one of the most loyal people I
know—but she gives zero fucks and has no problem telling you how it is.
She’s a fierce friend, and I love her for that ferocity.
Two hours later, we are all slightly drunk and watching Hannibal Lector
eat someone’s face off. Hey, don’t judge. I’ve never understood watching
sappy romance movies when you’re trying to get over a broken heart. Zack,
Jen, and I started the post-break-up-horror-movie-marathon-and-tequila
thing in college when Todd Zimmerman was caught with his pants down on
Zack’s bed with another man. Tequila, Chinese food, ice cream, and horror
movies are just what the broken heart ordered.
“We could dig a hole and put the asshole in it… send him chicken bones
and lotion…” Jen slurs laughing at her joke.
“Thank God you shun physical labor like the black plague, or I might be
worried.”
“Shut it, Zack. I can make a special exception.”
 “Can we just watch the damn movie?” My words come out a little more
harshly than I meant them to, but I can’t stand them going off on another
tangent about Scott. I know I left him because he’s been a crappy husband
recently, but I still love the man.
“Ooo, sounds like she means business,” Jen teases. I expect her to say
more, but thankfully she settles back to finish watching the movie.
I wake up with a pounding headache and a crick in my neck. There’s a
foot in my face, and it takes me a minute to realize I’m on Zack’s living
room floor and Jen is laying above me on the couch. I slap her foot away
and push myself up to a sitting position. I hold my breath for a moment
until I know my stomach isn’t going to reject the motion. Ugh. Maybe we
should change the tequila to wine next time.
“Rise and shine, sunshine,” Zack says as he walks into the room freshly
showered and way to damn chipper for someone who drank shots half the
night.
“I’m getting too old for this.”
“Yeah, you’re practically geriatric at a whopping twenty-seven years
old.” Zack rolls his eyes. “Time for adult diapers and a life-alert button.
Face it, you fall down enough that getting up is going to become
questionable at your advanced age.”
I throw my pillow at him, completely missing him and knocking the
empty tequila bottle off the table. Which causes Zack to bust up laughing.
Jen groans from the couch telling us both to ‘shut the fuck up.’
“Coffee?” Zack asks reaching for my hand to pull me to my feet.
“So much coffee.”
Zack hands over the elixir of life and I breathe in the warm scent
already feeling more human. My eyes hurt from crying and my head hurts
from drinking, but it’s the ache in my chest that is the worst. I hope they are
right when they say time heals all. Now if I could get myself a time
machine and fast forward to the time when the ache is gone.
“Are you working today?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “If I don’t, I’ll just sit around moping and drive myself
crazy. Speaking of, I better get a move on, or I’ll be late.”
M y phone has rung no less than twenty times in the last three
days. I’ve lost track of the number of text messages after the first day of
moving out. Scott, apparently, isn’t going to give up easily. Jen is convinced
that he’s being so persistent because he always wants what he can’t have
and has never backed away from a challenge. I don’t think he’s ever taken
no for an answer.
He’s always been competitive and attacks everything with a single-
minded determination. He started as a lowly intern at Regal Advertising as
part of a summer program his junior year of college. Within two years he
was their top agent. At the four-year mark, he made partner, and when the
founder of the company retired last year, he did so because he trusted Scott
to take the reins.
My leaving has given him a new challenge, and he’s proving his
stubbornness. I never anticipated this reaction from him. I expected
indifference. Scott gave me no reason to believe he valued our relationship.
The constant ringing of my phone is fueling my doubts.
The phone rings again.
“You should just answer the damn thing and tell him to fuck off,” Jen
grouses.
I think Jen is even more frustrated by the insistent calls and texts than I
am. I haven’t even been brave enough to read the texts—I’m definitely not
ready to hear his voice. I don’t think I can handle it. Not yet.
“I’m going to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I need to get home before Gizmo decides to use my pillow as his
litterbox again.” Jen cringes at the memory. Gizmo is famous for
retaliating… If his dinner is late or if Jen leaves him alone too long or if she
sneezes too loudly. Gizmo is an asshole. Typical cat. “Are you going to be
okay?”
“You know you and Zack don’t have to babysit me, right?”
A guilty look crosses over Jen’s face. “We hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“You’re about as stealthy as a bull in a china shop. If Zack isn’t home,
you’re here. Not to mention the fact that we’ve all had lunch together every
day so far this week when it’s been months since our schedules magically
aligned to make that possible.”
“Busted! We’re just worried about you.”
I pull Jen into a hug. “I know you are, but I’m okay.” Jen makes a noise
that lets me know she isn’t buying my little white lie. “Okay, maybe I’m not
okay, yet, but I will be. Now go home before Gizmo sets the place on fire.”
Jen leaves without any more protest, and I heave a sigh of relief at being
alone. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash away
the day’s makeup I pull on one of the shirts I stole from Scott when I
packed my bags.
I know, I know. I left Scott, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. My
heart aches knowing that he’s suffering. Even so, I can’t go back to the way
things were. It almost broke me. The separation hurts, but being with him,
seeing him every day and not being able to actually be with him is worse.
I find myself sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed staring down
at my phone like it’s a snake about to strike. I jump when it buzzes with
another text. It’s funny how a week ago I would’ve given anything to have
Scott’s attention, and now that it seems like I have his undivided attention, I
don’t want it.
No, that’s not right. The problem isn’t that I don’t want it, it’s that I do
want it.
Too much.
I take a steadying breath and decide it’s time to face the music. I open
the thread of texts from Scott there are thirty-one unread messages.
Stubborn, persistent man, indeed.
I scroll to the first message and start reading:
Mal, I know I fucked up. I won’t give up on us.
I love you.
Tell Jen not to murder me in my sleep.
I laugh at that even though it’s the last thing I want to do. Scott was
always able to sense when I needed to laugh and wasn’t above embarrassing
himself to make it happen. Even now, when he’s upset, he’s trying to cheer
me up. There is no stopping the tears this time.
I keep reading:
Good night, baby.
Good morning. Hope you slept well.
Mal, please answer the phone. I just want to talk.
I close my eyes against the pain because I want that too.
I called the office. Bill wouldn’t even put me through to voicemail.
No, he wouldn’t. My friends are a loyal bunch for sure. They’ve seen
what the last eighteen months have done to me, and they will do anything to
protect me from more heartache.
 I just want to know if you’re okay.
No, I’m really not.
The messages continue like that. Scott texts me good morning and good
night. Tells me he loves me and misses me mixed in with pleas for me to
call him. By the time I’m done reading the messages I’m crying so hard I
feel like I can’t breathe and I’m questioning why I’m putting us through
this.
Am I even doing the right thing? The night of our anniversary, it felt
like the right thing. Now I have no idea. And that doubt is the reason why
when my phone rings, I answer it.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FOUR

SCOTT

IF THE DEFINITION of insanity is doing the same thing over and over
and expecting different results, maybe I’m insane. I don’t fucking care
though. If getting Mallory back costs me my sanity, so be it. I’d rather have
her in my arms than have it anyway.
Which is why I call her again even though she hasn’t picked up any of
my calls since she left. The phone barely finishes the first ring when the line
connects. I assume she’s sending me to voicemail again and I shamelessly
wait to hear her happy voice telling me she probably lost her phone and to
leave a message, so I’m shocked when I’m greeted with silence.
“Mallory?”
She doesn’t speak, but I can hear her breathing. As pathetic as it sounds,
I’d be happy to just listen to her inhaling and exhaling all damn night if
she’d just not hang up. I run through the hundreds of things I’ve said to her
in my mind these last several days but can’t settle on a single one of them.
So, I tell her the only truth that matters…
“I love you, baby.”
My heart constricts when I hear a quiet sniffle from the other end of the
line, and I know that she’s been crying. I am a complete bastard because it
makes me happy to know this is affecting her too.
“I wish you’d talk to me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am… I’d do
anything to make it up to you. We can fix this—I can fix this. As long as we
love each other, we can do anything.” I feel like a bit of an ass when she lets
out a little sob, but the words were true on our wedding day when we said
our vows and the words are still true… we can do anything as long as we
love each other. “Unless you’ve don’t love me anymore. I’d deserve it if
that’s the case.”
“I…” Mallory starts to say something but goes quiet before she finishes.
“I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make you love
me again.”
“That’s the problem, Scott, I do still love you.”
I let out a sigh of relief, and my heart feels ten times lighter. At least
until she speaks again and punches me right in the gut.
“That doesn’t matter though. My loving you was never the problem.
You left me long before I left you. I can’t live like that. It hurts too much.”
She’s crying in earnest now, and it goes against my every instinct to not
wrap her in my arms and make it better.
“It won’t be like that. I promise…”
Mallory snorts a watery sounding laugh. “Your promises don’t mean a
whole lot right now.”
She’s completely right, and I hate myself for losing her trust. “I can’t
change what I’ve done. All I can do is spend the rest of my life proving how
much I love you.”
“Maybe you do love me, but you don’t like me very much. You find my
clumsiness annoying. You take me expressing concern as nagging. We
aren’t compatible anymore.”
I don’t respond right away, seriously considering what she said. Is her
clumsiness annoying? My immediate answer is no. I knew from day one,
and it was an honor to be the one to catch her whenever she tripped or
bandage her finger when she carelessly cut herself while cooking. Do I
think she nags? I think back and shamefully remember being annoyed when
she interrupted me at work.
“Mal, I have no excuse for how I’ve treated you. It’s inexcusable. If you
come home, it will be different.” I hope like hell that she can hear the
sincerity of my words.
“I can’t trust you—”
“Give me a chance. Let me take you out for dinner.”
“Like a date?” she asks, disbelief evident.
“Exactly like a date.”
“I don’t know…”
“Mal, what do we have to lose? Are you really so resolute in your
decision that you won’t even give our marriage a chance?” I silently kick
myself for being so pushy. Mallory has never responded well to high-
handedness.
I imagine the little wrinkle between her brows, her lips pursed together,
so she doesn’t just blurt out the first thing she thinks. Mallory is always so
conscientious of what she says, especially when her emotions are running
high. It’s only one of the reasons I fell in love with her—her sweetness.
“No.”
Her one-word response has me deflating on the spot. “Please.” I don’t
even try to hide my desperation.
“I’m not ready to give up. We can have dinner.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask hopeful.
“Okay…”
“Pick you up at seven?”
“Uhm… why don’t you tell me where and I’ll meet you.”
If her leaving wasn’t eye-opening enough, the fact that she won’t even
let me pick her up for dinner sure is. She didn’t even bat an eyelash at my
picking her up for our second date. Now, years later she would rather drive
herself in case she needs to escape.
“That’s fine. I’ll make reservations and let you know.”
Mallory’s answer is disrupted by a yawn. A quick look at the clock
shows it’s after midnight and I know she has to work early. “Get some
sleep, baby. I love you.”
Just before I disconnect the call, I hear a whispered ‘love you.’
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FIVE

MALLORY

“TELL me again why you’re freaking out over what to wear tonight?” Zack
asks.
Fair question. I’ve asked myself that several times and my only answer
is that I want to please Scott. Dumb as that is considering everything that
has happened.
I want him to want me.
“I want to look nice, is that so bad?”
“I say wear the sluttiest thing in your closet and spend the night
flaunting what the bastard can’t have.”
“Gee, Jen, thanks for that amazing advice.”
Zack picks up a retro style dress that is black with little white polka
dots. It’s one of my favorites because it hugs my curves and makes me feel
sexy. “This and the red heels. Hair up. Smokey eyes and red lips.”
Forty-five minutes later, I’m putting the finishing touches on my
lipstick and feeling like I could take on the world. Zack truly knows his
stuff. He has more fashion sense in his little finger than anyone I know. I
can design the crap out of the interior of a house, but I’m crap at clothes. I
click-clack my way into the living room and both Zack and Jen whistle. I do
a little turn, and they ridiculously clap and cheer.
“You look like a total man-eater. Scott won’t know what hit him… too
bad it’s your hot-ass and not the truck he deserves.” Jen smirks at her little
joke.
“Be nice,” I scold with a smile. I really do love the heck out of my
crazy-assed friend. “Guess I better go…” I move to grab my purse from the
chair I abandoned it on earlier and trip over my own feet. Zack’s quickness
is the only thing that saves me from a brutal face-plant. “Thanks.” I giggle a
nervous, slightly embarrassed giggle.
“You okay?” Zack asks, his brow lowered in concern.
I open my mouth to say ‘yes’ but instead I say, “No. I’m not okay. What
am I doing? What if Scott is the same as he’s been? What if he spends all
night on his phone like he normally does? What if he—”
“Mal, take a breath,” Zack says cutting off my tirade. “What if he isn’t
the same? What if he pays attention and treats you like a queen?” My heart
leaps because I want that so badly. I want my husband back. “You can
‘what if’ this to death, but you won’t know until you try. As much as I want
you to be done with the dumbass, I know you don’t really want that.” I open
my mouth to argue because I left Scott, but Zack speaks over me. “Despite
everything, you still love him as much as ever. You only left him because
you couldn’t stand being alone in your marriage anymore. Not because you
wanted to. You leaving was an eye opener for him. This is your chance to
get the man you love back.
“You just need to decide if you’re willing to risk getting hurt again or
not. Call me a sentimental romantic, but I want nothing more than for him
to redeem himself and earn you back. You deserve the happily ever after
and I know you, Scott is yours. Once you love someone that is it for you. If
I thought you could just move on with someone else, I wouldn’t be
encouraging this… I’m not sure he is redeemable, but for your sake and for
the sake of romance, I hope he is.”
I throw my arms around Zack and hug him until my arms ache. Jen
makes a gagging noise from her spot on the couch. “Thank you, Zack.
You’re right… all I can do is give him a chance. I owe it to myself to give
him one last chance to make things right.”
“And if he fucks up again, I’m getting him maimed for your birthday
present. I might even do the deed myself,” Jen says with a smile.
I grab my purse and head for the door. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know
what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” Zack says.
I blow them a kiss through the closing door.
I run my sweaty palms over the skirt of my dress as I approach the
hostess stand. Pastasciutta, my favorite Italian restaurant, is reservation
only and books months in advance. The fact that Scott secured us a table
proves that he’s determined to impress. The thought both pleases me and
makes me wary. I don’t want him to impress me. I just want him to be the
man I fell in love with again.
“How can I help you?” the hostess asks.
“I’m meeting Scott Tramble.”
“He’s already seated, this way.”
I follow behind getting more nervous with every step. I’m surprised
when she leads me through the dining room into one of the private rooms.
The impossible to get, have-to-know-someone-who-knows-someone private
rooms. I get a sense of the lush room I’ve been led to, but my eyes find
Scott and my brain short circuits.
He’s wearing my favorite charcoal gray suit sans tie. His collar is loose,
and his hair is askew which tells me he’s been running his fingers through
his hair. Something he only does when he’s anxious. Is he as nervous as I
am? That thought makes me feel a little more confident. If he’s nervous,
then that means he’s taking this seriously.
As if he senses me looking at him, he looks up from the menu he was
studying, and I promptly trip on my heel and nearly knock the hostess
down. My face is a million shades of red as I apologize to the poor lady.
Why couldn’t I be graceful just this once? Scott is up from his chair and in
front of me in seconds. Without a word, he guides me to my seat, pulling
the chair out for me and tucking me under the table.
He leans down, and I think for a moment he’s going to kiss me, and my
eyes fall closed in nervous anticipation. Goosebumps break out on my skin
when his hot breath caresses my neck and his voice rumbles in my ear.
“You look ravishing, my love. Positively edible.”
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. My body silently pleads. I release a breath I
didn’t realize I was holding when Scott rises and moves to take his own
seat. He looks at me from across the table hungrily, and it takes a herculean
effort to not squirm in my seat. He’s devouring me with his eyes like he’s
starving for the very sight of me.
Silence stretches between us, fraught with sexual tension. Less than five
minutes in his presence and I’m ready to throw all caution to the wind and
hop into bed with him. I scold my inner hussy. I am not sleeping with Scott.
No matter how much I want him. I need him to prove himself before I give
myself over to him. I just pray I can be strong enough to follow through
with that plan.
I breathe a sigh of relief when our waiter approaches. Scott orders a
bottle of my favorite white wine and flawlessly orders my meal for me. My
heart melts just a little at him knowing exactly what I want. Grilled chicken
alfredo with black truffles. I’m somewhat health conscious and tend to
watch everything I put into my body carefully. I’m not one of those people
with a high metabolism that can eat anything and not gain a pound. Italian
food is my one weakness and rich, creamy alfredo sauce is my kryptonite.
“You remembered,” I find myself saying unable to keep the surprise
from my tone.
“Despite my actions of the last year, I remember everything about you,
Mallory.”
Not knowing what to say to that I make a production of opening my
napkin and placing it on my lap. I fiddle with the placement of my fork,
adjust my water glass… anything to keep from having to look up at Scott. I
straighten my already straight silverware. My breath catches when Scott’s
warm hand covers mine, halting my fidgeting.
“Baby, you don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.”
I can’t hold back my snort of derision. Of course, I’m nervous. I’ve
spent months feeling unattractive and unloved. I hate that my self-
confidence took such a hard hit from his indifference. I never had a problem
with my self-image before. I know I’m not ugly. It took a long time for
Scott to convince me that my curves were a blessing, not a curse, but even
before I accepted that I’d never be a size five, I still knew I was pretty.
Logically, I know I haven’t changed, and yet, I no longer see the pretty
woman I used to in the mirror. I find myself picking apart my appearance
instead of appreciating what’s there. So instead of feeling confident in my
pretty dress with perfectly done hair and makeup, I feel nervous and unsure
of myself.
The waiter comes back with our bottle of wine and quickly pours two
glasses before scurrying off, leaving Scott and me completely alone.
Thankful for a reason to break contact, I pull my hand away from his and
take a healthy drink of my wine. The cool crisp liquid is just the right
amount of sweet.
“Good?” Scott asks.
 “Very, thank you.” I take another sip before setting my glass down.
“How’s work?” I ask, deciding that maybe if I initiate small talk, it’ll
prevent him from starting the conversation I know he wants to have. I’m
not ready to talk about our relationship.
“Busy. We just landed a multimillion-dollar account with Thorton
Markets.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say with pride. I can’t help but be proud of his
accomplishment. He’s darn good at his job and deserves the success, but
knowing he just started a new project makes me wary. He already spends
too much time at the office, and with such a big account, I can foresee a lot
more hours spent working. How can he possibly find time to work on us
when he’ll have such a massive distraction?
“Thank you. Now that we secured the account, I’m letting Chuck take
point.”
“What?!” The word falls from my lips loudly and full of incredulity. I
slap my hand over my mouth angry at myself for losing control of my
speech.
Scott’s lips tip up with a sad smile. “I’ve decided it’s time to delegate.
When I told you things would be different, I meant it. I won’t make the
same mistake twice. You’re more important than work. I love you, Mallory.
I’m not giving up on us. Ever.”
Once again, I have no idea how to respond. He’s saying everything that
I want to hear, but can I trust him? I’ve spent so many sleepless nights
trying to figure out why my husband became distant and dismissive… I
desperately want to know why, but I’m too chicken to ask. Can I move
forward without knowing what caused the rift? Can my fragile heart take
finding out why he changed? I’m not sure it can.
The silence that follows is awkward. I can tell Scott wants to talk more
about us but is wary of pushing me any more than he already has. I’m
relieved beyond belief when he asks me about how work is going. Our
conversation flows smoothly after that.
I fill him in on Mrs. Anderson’s newest antics. She’s seventy-five if she
is a day and can’t stick with any one design for more than six months. I’ve
redone her living room, kitchen, the master bedroom, and the three guest
bedrooms in her house at least three times each over the last four years. I’m
half convinced the reason she keeps changing her mind is to annoy her
husband. Talk about relationship goals. They’ve been married for fifty
years, and despite the fact that she drives him to the edge of insanity, the
love is evident in their every interaction. They have the kind of relationship
I always envisioned having with Scott. A lifetime of love and happiness.
That seems like an impossibility now, though.
It’s heartbreaking.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Scott asks,
interrupting my morose thoughts.
“Oh, just thinking about the Anderson’s. They just celebrated their
fiftieth anniversary…”
The frown on Scott’s handsome face shows understanding. He’s
grasping my melancholy at the thought that we might not have that. “Mal
—”
“So… this was nice,” I quickly say, interrupting whatever he was about
to say.
He looks down at our empty dessert plates and realizes that our date is
coming to an end. I can see his mind working, and I imagine he’s trying to
think of something to stall ending our date. He must not think of anything,
because he drops some bills on the table and escorts me out of the
restaurant.
Once outside, he takes my arm like he’s done a million times. I lightly
squeeze his arm in acknowledgment of the fact that he’s holding me close
so he can catch me if I stumble in my heels on the uneven sidewalk. He
walks me to my car, lingering wordlessly as if he doesn’t want to leave. If
I’m being honest, I don’t want to leave either.
Earlier when I said that tonight was nice, it wasn’t a throw-away
statement. I might have avoided the serious talk we need to have, but we
talked more in the last two hours than we had in the last two months. It’s a
reminder on how things used to be… and maybe a sign that it could be that
way again.
Scott closes the scant distance between us and backs me into the side of
my car, boxing me in. He leans down and runs his nose along my sensitive
neck causing goosebumps to erupt along my skin as he breathes me in. It’s
another gesture he’s done a million times.
“You always smell so damn good. Like lavender and vanilla.” I shiver at
his lust filled words. Or maybe it was from the way his lips moved lightly
against my skin as he spoke. Or it could be the way his fingers are tickling
over my arm as he runs them up and down from shoulder to wrist. It’s an
innocent touch, but it’s utterly distracting and has my brain short-circuiting
because I know how good his hands feel when they’re caressing other parts
of my body.
Scott moves his lips up my throat and up to my lips where he lightly
kisses me. The faintest brush of his lips against mine. The touch is like gas
on a flame. I throw my arms around his neck and smash my lips to his.
Taking my action as permission, he clutches me to him and kisses me more
deeply. Our tongues dance together. Stroking playfully at first, then with
more intent. To say we devour each other would be an understatement.
His hands roam over my body and mine do the same to his. I tug his
perfectly pressed shirt out of his pants, desperate to feel him. I’m starved
for skin-to-skin contact. I’m not sure if the groan comes from me or Scott,
but my hands running up his perfectly muscled abs seems to flip a switch
causing our already inappropriate-for-public-kiss to turn downright dirty.
Scott cups my breast with one hand, stroking his thumb over my
hardened nipple, while the other grips my ass, pulling me closer so he can
rub his erection against me. I break away from his lips, desperately sucking
air into my burning lungs. As if he can’t stand not tasting me, his mouth
latches onto my neck, kissing and lightly sucking causing me to writhe
against him. I’m so lost in the moment that I completely forget that we are
in public and nearly have Scott’s belt unbuckled before he grips my hands
stopping me.
“As much as I want to finish this here and now…”
“Oh my God,” I gasp, pulling my hands away from his as if I’ve been
scalded. How did I let things get so out of control? I expected that Scott
would want a goodnight kiss, but this is insanity. I practically mauled him
in public!
Scott doesn’t let me pull away for long, he tugs me back into his chest,
holding me close enough that I can feel his heart beating wildly. “Come
home with me, Mal. I want you naked in our bed. I want to kiss every inch
of your sexy body, then bury myself so deep inside you you don’t know
where I stop, and you begin.”
Yes! My vagina practically screams at me to go home with him and let
him have his way with me. Sanity wins out though. “I can’t. It’s too soon.”
“It’s been too fucking long,” Scott practically growls. “I need to remind
you just how good we are together.”
 Using both hands and every ounce of my willpower, I push against his
chest until he takes a step back. My body cries out in protest at the loss of
his heat against me, but I know I’m making the right decision. Falling into
bed won’t fix us. Sex has always been a huge part of our relationship. We
were both insatiable when it came to each other… until he stopped wanting
me. What happens if we have sex and he rejects me again? I don’t think I’d
survive it. No. Waiting is the right thing.
“I can’t,” I repeat.
Scott visibly deflates. His shoulders hunching slightly with defeat. “I’m
sorry. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for breaking us.”
“Me too,” I whisper. I’m not really sure what I’m apologizing for, but I
feel sorry. Sorrier than I’ve ever felt before.
“Will you let me take you out again tomorrow?”
I’m ready to deny him, but the hopeful look on his handsome face has
me easily agreeing. His broad smile makes my capitulation completely
worth it. He kisses me chastely before opening my car door.
“Text me when you get to Zack’s, so I know you made it safely.”
I nod my agreement, silently pleased at his concern. He waits until I’ve
buckled my seatbelt before he closes the door. Another thing he always
used to do, and it’s just one more thing that gives me hope that we can find
our way back to each other. After months of indifference, I’m relishing
every small way he’s showing me he cares.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SIX

SCOTT

WATCHING Mallory drive away from me is almost painful. Just knowing

that an empty house is waiting for me turns my mood. I take the long way,
putting off going home for a few extra minutes. My phone dings with a text
just as I’m pulling into the garage.
Home safe.
I want to scream that no she’s not home. Zack’s place is not her home.
I’m her home. I just barely hold back from telling her knowing that she
wouldn’t appreciate it one little bit.
There is so much more that I want to say. I want Mallory to know that I
hate every second we’re apart. That I can still feel her hands running over
my chest. I can taste her lipstick on my lips. I can smell her sweet vanilla
scent. I can hear the desperate little sounds she made as her hands worked at
my belt buckle.
Instead of saying any of that, I keep it simple.
Thanks for tonight, baby.
I’m just crawling into bed when my phone pings.
It was the best night I’ve had in longer than I can remember. Thank you,
Scott.
I read and reread the message, every word like a dagger to the heart. I
know she didn’t mean the words to be hurtful. Mallory isn’t the type, but
the fact that a simple dinner at her favorite restaurant is the best night she’s
had in a long time is just more proof of my neglect. I hate myself a little
more because of it. I’m more determined than ever to fix what I’ve broken.
It was my pleasure. No need to thank me, beautiful.
 The three little dots showing that Mallory is responding flash on then
off again and again and I can just see the little wrinkle between her
eyebrows as she types and deletes her responses.
I just want you to know how much I appreciate the effort. That’s all.
There goes that knife in the chest again. Jesus.
Taking my gorgeous wife out for a delicious dinner is no hardship.
Mallory is quick with her response. Being wined and dined and kissed
half to death by my handsome husband was almost perfection.
Almost? I ask.
My cock stiffens in my boxer briefs when her response flashes on my
screen and I groan low in my throat. My Mallory is feeling flirty, and I’m
reminded of other nights when I had to travel and would lay in a cold hotel
room bed and exchange sexy texts with her until one of us would break and
call so we could talk each other to orgasm.
I didn’t want to stop touching you. Kissing you.
I rub my hand along my length wishing it was her much smaller hand.
It took all of my self-control to not bend you over the car and lick your
pussy until you screamed. I fucking crave the taste of you.
God, Scott. I want that. So. Bad.
I push my boxers down my thighs, my cock springs free and I give it a
couple strokes imagining the taste of her on my tongue. The way she
writhes when I gently circle her clit with the tip of my tongue… fuck.
Mmm… I’d bury my face in your slick cunt and lick your little clit until
your sweet honey coated my tongue, and then I’d lick you clean and start
all over again.
The message instantly shows it was read, but she doesn’t respond. Is her
hand down her panties? Is she rubbing her clit imagining it’s my tongue?
Are you wet for me?
Yes.
Good. Rub your clit. Make your pussy feel good.
Again, the message shows read but there’s no response, and I know it’s
because her fingers are occupied doing as I said.
That’s it, baby. Now push your fingers inside that sweet cunt. Get them
all slippery.
I bet you’re soaked. Is your pussy hungry for my cock?
My phone rings and I nearly drop it in my haste to connect the call.
Once it connects, I nearly drop it again when I realize she’s done a video
call. Fuck me. Mallory is stretched out on her bed, propped up by a
mountain of pillows. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are glazed with
desire.
“Jesus, Mallory, look at you. So fucking gorgeous.”
She lets out a little moan, and I can see her hand working between her
legs. Her pussy is so wet I can hear the soft squelching sounds as she fucks
herself with her fingers. I don’t hesitate to reach for my cock. I stroke my
length and have to fight to keep my eyes open and on the screen. I don’t
want to miss a second of watching my wife.
She’s close, and I know if she doesn’t slow down, she’s going to push
herself over the edge. I don’t want this to end so quickly. “Stop.” Mallory
lets out a little whimper of complaint but does what I say. “Play with your
nipples. Get them shiny with all that pussy juice.”
Her fingers trace slow circles around first one nipple, then the other.
“Good girl. Pinch them.”
She does as I say, gently pinching and tugging on the taut peaks. Her
lips are parted, and her breathing quickens. “Harder. Pinch them like I
would.” Her head falls back on the pile of pillows as a moan of pleasure-
pain echoes in the room. “That’s it. Fuck, you’re a goddess.”
“Scott…” My name is half moan half plea.
“What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want.”
“Your cock. I want your cock buried so deep inside me that it aches.”
I change the angle that I’m holding my phone so that my cock comes
into view. She moans when she sees my hand shuttling up and down my
length. “Is this what you want?”
“Yessss…”
“Put your fingers in your pussy. I want you to fuck yourself.”
Her eyes are glued to my cock as she slips two fingers into her tight
hole. I imagine what the clasp of her pussy feels like. So wet and hot as she
squeezes down on my length. I stroke myself harder, twisting my hand up
over the head of my cock, spreading my pre-come as I do.
“Another finger. Stretch that pussy.”
Mallory groans and I nearly come seeing her pussy stretched over her
dainty fingers. She can take more. I know she can. “Another.”
“I can’t… oh God… Scott… it’s too much.”
“You can. You will. Do it… stretch that pussy. Get it good and ready for
my cock.”
 Just like I knew they would, my words inflame her and within seconds
of adding the fourth finger her body pulls taut like a bowstring, and she’s
moaning her release. “Don’t stop. Keep fucking that pussy.” My cock is
leaking profusely, I’m on the edge of my own climax, but I know she’s got
another orgasm in her. If she keeps going, she’ll come harder than ever.
“You’re going to come so hard, aren’t you?”
Beyond words, she nods her head rapidly. Her breasts heave with her
heavy panting. Then she’s screaming as her pussy fucking gushes. My balls
draw up tight, and I spill my release all over my hand, my stomach, my
chest. My release is never-ending as I come more than I ever have. I pull
my boxers off the rest of the way and use them to clean up my mess.
Mallory is collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, her eyes closed as
she recovers. Her hand is still between her legs, and she twitches every so
often. If I was there, I’d lick her fingers clean. I’m filled with bitterness at
the reminder that that privilege is no longer mine.
As if she can sense my mood change, Mallory’s eyes blink open, and a
slow smile spreads over her lips. “That was… wow.”
And those three words lighten my mood. I can’t help but chuckle.
“Wow is a bit of an understatement.”
Mallory’s cheeks flush; this time it’s not from desire but from shyness.
She’s a juxtaposition of sex kitten and shy, good girl. Even after all these
years, she still blushes, and I love it. I never want her to lose that sweet
innocence.
We lay in our beds, miles apart, just watching each other. There are so
many things to be said between us, but we are both content to just be with
each other in this moment. Our problems will still be there tomorrow. It’s
only when she yawns one of her jaw-cracking yawns that I reluctantly let
her go with a promise to see her tomorrow.

“D ude what do you mean you ’ re leaving early ?” N eil doesn ’ t even
try to hide his disapproval.
“It’s called delegation. Chuck is in charge of this campaign. I have a
date with my wife.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Why bother? The bitch left you.”
 Before I even realize I’ve done it, I have Neil by the collar of his shirt
and shoved against the door to my office. “Watch your fucking tone. Never
call my wife a bitch again. In fact, never speak of her again.”
Neil’s eyes are wide as saucers, and he stutters out his apology. I release
him with a little shove.
“Jesus, dude, chill the fuck out.”
“Get out,” I growl, anger still riding me. I want nothing more than to
punch the little prick, but I’ve already pushed the lines of professionalism
and lost my cool which is entirely out of character for me.
Neil leaves without another word, and I quickly clear off my desk and
shut down my computer. Time to woo my wife.

“W here are you taking me ?” M allory asks for the dozenth time
since we left the restaurant. I don’t even try to hide my smile because I
know she hates surprises. Well, she claims to hate surprises, but she actually
loves them. Which is why I haven’t told her we are going to the aquarium.
She loves the aquarium, and I can’t wait to see her happy smiles.
“You’ll see...”
She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and pretends to pout, but
she can’t hide the small pleased smile that keeps slipping through.
“The aquarium!?” she practically squeals bouncing excitedly in her seat
as we pull into the parking lot. Then her pert little nose scrunches up, and
she looks at me with consternation. “You don’t like the aquarium. Last time
I suggested it you said, ‘you’ve been a half a dozen times, what more is
there to see.’”
God, I’m a bastard. “I was an idiot. You love coming here, and I love
being with you. Now let’s go see some fish.”
I help Mallory from the car and am pleased when she links her arm with
mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is… she belongs
on my arm.
Mallory’s excitement is contagious, and even though we’re seeing the
same exhibits we’ve seen before, I can’t help enjoying myself. It’s more the
company than the fish. Mallory is relaxed and happy as she watches the
jellyfish float around in their tank. She is transfixed, a look of pleasure and
contentment on her face. I sneakily take a picture, capturing the beauty of
the moment.
With a contented sigh, she lays her head on my shoulder, I don’t hesitate
to wrap my arm around her. We wander through the different exhibits; I
don’t realize I’ve let my mind wander until Mallory is practically dragging
me along to the next thing.
“Oh look! They have a new exhibit. Otters!”
We spend a long time watching the otters play. The whole time Mallory
is riveted to her spot. “I love otters. Did you know they hold each other as
they float in the water so they can stay together? So cute and sweet.”
“Attention aquarium guests… we will be closing the doors in ten
minutes so please make your way to the exit, and we thank you for
visiting,” a disembodied voice announces over the PA system.
Mallory sighs. “I guess we should head home.”
I reluctantly lead her back to the car, hating that our night is over. We
are silent on the drive to Zack’s place. I hate that I’m taking her home to
another man. I don’t care that he’s her best friend and that he’s gay. I want
her with me and only me.
“Oh, you can just let me out at the door. You don’t have to park,”
Mallory says when she realizes I’m looking for a spot.
“Have you ever known me to not walk you to your door after a date?”
Mallory’s cheeks tint with a faint blush. I brush the back of my fingers
across her cheek. God, she’s beautiful. I open her door and once again, she
puts her arm through mine, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s holding me just a
little tighter.
We get to her door, and I can see the indecision. She’s trying to decide if
she should invite me in or not. She wants to but I know she’s not ready yet.
I pull her soft curves against me and give her a slow, lingering kiss before
pulling away.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep sweet, beautiful.”
Every single instinct is telling me not to walk away, but I know it’s what
she needs. She needs more time to trust that I’m different. That she’s not
going to get hurt again. And that’s on me so I’ll make the hard decisions for
both of us.
“Night, Scott,” she says before disappearing into Zack’s apartment.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SEVEN

MALLORY

“THESE LAST TWO weeks have been amazing. Scott has been like his
old self.” I sound like a lovesick fool as I gush to Zack and Jen. I’m getting
dressed for another date night. Scott is cooking for me. I’m a little nervous
because this will be the first time we’ve not been in public and I’m not sure
I trust myself to not jump him like a horny bunny.
We’ve made out in his car like a couple of teenagers, we’ve sexted, and
had phone sex… not to mention the video calls which have quickly become
my favorite. The chemistry was always electric between us, and it seems to
be burning even hotter than ever.
Jen makes a gagging sound. Zack just grins. He’s happy for me. I know
Jen is too, but she’s more stubborn and won’t be quick to forgive Scott for
hurting me.
“How do I look?”
“Like you’re trolling for dick,” Jen snarks.
Frowning, I turn and look in the mirror. I don’t want to look like I’m
trying too hard. I bought a new dress, it’s a royal purple that makes my skin
almost translucent and makes my blue eyes pop. Yes, it’s a little on the short
side, and I have a decent amount of cleavage showing, but I didn’t think it
was too much.
“Don’t listen to Jen, she’s just jealous she doesn’t have the tits for that
dress.”
Jen tosses a pillow at Zack’s head. “Not all of us are blessed with curves
for days. You look hot, Mal. The douche canoe won’t be able to keep his
hands off of you.”
 “You’re perfect. Now go get your man. I’m assuming I shouldn’t wait
up?” Zack says with a teasing smirk.
I chew on my lip contemplating. “I’m not sure. It’s too soon to have
sex… isn’t it? I mean it’s only been a couple of weeks...”
“Mal, he’s your husband, not some dude you just met. Besides, sex
doesn’t mean you have to move back in with him. Sex is just sex.”
“I’m going to say something I have never said before… Zack’s right,”
Jen makes a little gagging noise around the words like it was the hardest
thing to say ever.
Are they right? Is sex just sex? I don’t know that sex between Scott and
I could ever just be sex. From the very first time, it’s always been so much
more. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. My body is primed and ready to
go. My poor vagina is ready to end its very, very long dry spell, but my
heart is wary.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I’ll just have to see how the
night goes. I’ll see you two later!”

I’ m standing in front of the door to the house I shared with S cott

for the last three years, and I don’t know if I should knock or use my key. I
moved out, but it still feels like my home. I raise my hand to knock and
lower it, again. I’ve done this half a dozen times already. All the nervous
excitement is roiling through me, and I’m half tempted to turn and run.
What is wrong with me?
I’m torn between leaving and knocking when the door opens, and the
decision is made for me. Scott stands in the doorway looking sexy as sin.
My heart skips a beat and things down low clench. He’s got the sleeves of
his shirt rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms… I love his arms. The
top couple buttons of the shirt are undone which just adds to the sexy,
disheveled look. My eyes drop to his dark jeans. I see the bulge, and I
wonder if he’s already hard. I know I’m already wet… just thinking about
him on the drive over has me all hot and bothered.
“You look fucking amazing, Mal,” Scott says before pulling me into his
arms and kissing me breathless. “Mmm cherries. You always taste like
cherries.”
 I lick my lips, tasting the lingering flavor of my favorite lip gloss. Scott
looks at me like he’s ready to devour me right here on the stoop. His lips
find mine again, and I sink into his arms, returning the kiss with fervor. He
backs us into the house and slams the door closed before pushing my back
against it.
His hands pull up the skirt of my dress until he reaches the apex of my
thighs. His fingers rub along my panty-clad pussy, and my knees go weak.
He presses me harder against the door and rubs me through my panties. I’m
so wound up that I’m teetering on the edge of release already. The oven
timer goes off, and I cry out in frustration when Scott pulls away. I moan
again when he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth,
licking them clean.
“Fucking delicious.” The timer beeps again, and Scott pulls away.
“Later, I’m going to bury my face in that perfect pussy of yours. First, I’m
going to feed you.”
He takes my hand and pulls me into the dining room. The table is set
with a gorgeous bouquet of lilies and white roses—my two favorite flowers.
The seldom-used candlesticks that were an engagement gift from his
grandmother are lit adding to the romantic atmosphere. Scott went all out
for this dinner, and my heart is full.
“I hope you’re hungry. I went a little overboard,” Scott says as he starts
bringing dishes to the table piled high with all of my favorite foods. Steak,
mashed potatoes, bacon wrapped asparagus, and macaroni and cheese—
from the looks of it, it’s my mother’s recipe. It’s enough to bring tears to my
eyes. I quickly dash them away, hoping that Scott doesn’t notice.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Scott’s concern is plain.
I wave my hand over the table and in his direction vaguely. “Just… all
of this.”
Scott takes his seat, and then pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms
around me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I want to make you happy.”
I choke out a little laugh that ends on a sob. “I am happy. I don’t know
why I’m crying. You’ve been so great. Everything is great… I’m just…”
“You’re scared that it won’t last. You’re remembering how we were
before and that things changed once and are worried it could happen again.”
I nod in agreement, he’s exactly right.
“I know it’s going to take time for you to trust me again and that’s okay.
I should have to work for it.”
 He couldn’t have said anything more perfect than that. Which is why I
wrap my arms around his neck and crush my lips to his. All the pent-up lust
from the last two weeks—hell, who am I kidding, from the last year and a
half—boils over until we are practically mauling each other. His hands are
everywhere. Gripping my ass, plumping my breasts, tweaking my nipples
through my dress.
I turn in Scott’s lap so I’m straddling him and we both groan when the
hard ridge of his cock presses against my core. The sensation is exquisite
even through our clothing. His big hands cup my ass as I rock against him,
loving the friction. Our lips are seared together, tongues wildly dancing.
He effortlessly lifts me in his arms, there’s a loud crash followed by the
sound of shattering glass, and then I’m on my back on the table and the
fantastic dinner Scott cooked is a pile on the floor.
Scott quickly pushes my dress up over my hips exposing my lacy
panties. With an almost animalistic noise, he rips the panties away,
shredding the delicate lace. With the urgent way he tore my panties away, I
expected him to dive right in, but he just stands there taking me in.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he says, then gives me what we both want—his
mouth on my pussy.
He takes one long, slow lick from bottom to top, groaning as he does.
My hips jerk when his tongue slides over my clit, the direct contact both too
much and not enough. I’m lost in a haze of pleasure as he circles the
sensitive bundle of nerves. My pussy clenches, empty and begging to be
filled. As if he can read my mind, he slips two fingers inside me. The
orgasm catches me completely off-guard as it ricochets through my body.
“That’s it, baby. Come all over my face.”
Scott doesn’t stop licking my clit as my climax rides me. His fingers
filling me over and over until a second, more powerful orgasm crashes over
me until I’m screaming his name and begging him to fuck me.
With almost frantic need, I rip his jeans open and shove them down his
hips. My fingers circle his cock and I stroke him roughly. There is an
almost feral look in Scott’s eyes when he rips my hands away and pins them
to the table. I writhe underneath him as he lines his cock up and thrusts
inside me in one smooth stroke.
“So fucking tight. This little pussy is hungry for my cock, isn’t it?”
“Yesss…” I hiss at the almost painful stretch of his cock. It hurts so
fucking good.
 I’m nearly mindless as he pulls almost completely out and pauses. I
know what he’s doing, he’s the king of delayed gratification. He’s going to
take his time unless I can convince him otherwise. He slowly pushes back
inside, and I squeeze down on him, milking his cock. His eyes close, head
falling back on his neck as he struggles for control. Another slow thrust,
another tight clench of my pussy.
“That’s it, squeeze my cock,” he growls as he picks up his pace, losing
his precious control until he’s slamming into me filling the room with the
sounds of slapping skin and our moans.
“Scott… oh… I’m so close, don’t stop. Don’t stop!”
“Never,” he says tugging my dress down until my breasts are on display.
His mouth descends on my nipple, sucking and nipping the turgid peak.
He swivels his hips every time he buries himself inside me, rubbing my
clit with his pelvis, and that’s all it takes. I explode. My mind fracturing into
a million pieces as pleasure overwhelms my system. The pulsing of his
cock inside me and the low groan tell me that Scott found his own release.
Usually, I’d be more engaged, but he literally fucked me stupid, and I can
do nothing but lay here and take what he’s giving me.
He kisses his way up my chest, neck, over my jaw to my lips. The kiss
is almost painful in its sweetness. “I love you, Mallory.”
I wrap my arms and legs around him, burying my face in his neck. “I
love you, too.”
He lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom. “What about
dinner? The mess…”
“Later,” he says as he lays me on our bed and pushes back inside me.
This time he makes love to me slow and sweet.

“W hat are you thinking about ?” S cott asks .

I snuggle deeper into his arms, loving the closeness. “Honestly?”
“Always.”
“Tacos,” I say seriously causing Scott to burst out in laughter. “I’m
starving.”
“I’ve neglected my wife. I better feed her before she starts gnawing on
the curtains.”
 Thirty minutes later, we are sitting in bed, naked, eating Taco Casa
tacos. I quickly devour the first one and am halfway through the second
when I notice Scott isn’t eating. “What?” I mumble around my food. “I told
you I was hungry.”
“Nothing. Just enjoying the sight. It’s not every day I get to eat tacos
with a beautiful, naked woman.”
I laugh, throwing a bit of lettuce at him. “Better be the only naked taco
eating you’re doing.”
Scott leans over and takes a bite out of my taco. “Yours is the only taco
I want.”
I shake my head rolling my eyes. “You’re a heathen.”
We finish our bed-picnic and end up cuddled together talking about
everything and nothing completely losing track of time. I yawn for the
fourth time.
“You’re exhausted. Let’s get some sleep,” Scott says, reaching to turn
off the bedside lamp.
I sit up and look down at my very naked, very sexy husband. I want
nothing more than to curl up in his arms and be held all night, but it seems
like a bad precedent to set. I’m not ready to move back in yet, and
sleepovers feel like a slippery slope.
“I should go home…”
Scott’s brow furrows and his eyes flash with anger for a second before
he regains his control. “You are home.” His voice is strained as he tries to
hide his upset.
I shake my head sadly. “No. I don’t live here anymore, remember?”
“How could I forget,” he growls, getting out of bed and pacing the
length of the room. “This is crazy, Mallory. We are married! We love each
other! We both want this to work out. What better way to reestablish our
relationship than for you to be here, with me, where you belong!”
I slowly get up from the bed and move to get my dress and shoes. “I
thought you understood that I needed time.”
Scott spreads his arms in frustration. “What was all this then?”
“Sex?”
“Fucking bullshit. It’s not just sex. It’s never been just sex.” Scott closes
the distance between us and grips my shoulders tightly, his gaze boring into
mine. “I love you, Mallory. I can’t live like this. These last weeks have been
both the best and the worst. Come home.”
 My eyes fill with tears for the third time tonight. Coming here was a
mistake. I wasn’t ready for this. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Even though it nearly kills me, I pull away from his hold and leave
feeling dejected and confused.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER EIGHT

SCOTT

IT’S BEEN NEARLY two months since Mallory moved out. Every single
day I come home to an empty house is like a fresh level of hell. I hate
everything about this separation. Even though I see her nearly every day
and we text and talk on the phone constantly, it still sucks. I want my wife
home. I want her in my arms. I’m trying to be patient, but the struggle is
real.
Mallory refuses to come back to the house, which means we haven’t
had sex since our argument and it’s fucking killing me. How the hell I
survived eighteen months without her, I have no clue. Seeing her dressed
up, kissing her sweet lips, hearing her soft moans as she rubs herself to
orgasm—because phone sex has become part of our routine. I take her out,
and she sends me dirty texts as I drive home, until I’m on fire and ready to
come in my pants. I stumble into the house and rip my clothes off my body
as I dial her number. She answers breathlessly because every single time
she is touching herself in anticipation of my call.
I know she’s being driven just as crazy as I am by all this teasing. She’s
just being stubborn at this point. Logically, I know she’s still worried. She
wants to know what caused me to grow so distant and I don’t have an
answer for her. I fucked up badly, but I’ve shown her in every way possible
that I’m all in and that things have changed. No more late nights at the
office. I don’t answer calls when we are together. I haven’t worked a single
weekend since she left. I’m not sure what else I can do, and I’m afraid that
until I figure out what caused the problem, she’s going to keep us in limbo.
Is it really so important?
Shouldn’t we focus on the future and not the past?
 I shake myself out of these morose thoughts. I’ve got better things to
think about… like the surprise I’ve got planned for this weekend. Zack and
surprisingly, Jen, have helped me plan a weekend getaway for Mallory.
Tomorrow when I pick her up for our date, I’m driving us straight to the
airport where we will catch a quick flight. I’m taking her to Paradise Cove,
a quaint town on the coast of Maine where we spent two glorious weeks on
our honeymoon. It’s not exactly beach weather, but if things go according to
plan, we won’t be spending much time out of our bed.
I’m pulled away from my fantasies by a text message. I can’t suppress
the smile when I see it’s from Mallory.
Hey. Sorry to do this on such short notice, but I have to cancel our
lunch today.
That’s another thing that I’ve made sure to make a habit of… lunch
dates in the middle of the workday. At least twice a week we meet for
lunch. It’s a nice distraction from the daily grind, and I have no idea why I
never made time to do it before. One thing this separation has opened my
eyes to is that work is not the most important thing. Not even close.
Everything okay?
Her response is instant. Yeah, everything is fine.
I’ll miss you. I instantly regret that text, cringing because it sounded
seriously desperate.
I always miss you. Annnd now I feel ten feet tall because even though
she’s canceling it’s obvious, she doesn’t want to. I’m curious as to what
caused the cancellation, but I don’t want to pry. If it was something
important, she’d tell me.
The workday crawls by, and I’m ready to pull my hair out. Mallory has
been quieter than usual, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on with
her. I consider stopping and picking up tacos and surprising her at Zack’s,
but I don’t want to push. Especially since I’m going to be testing her
boundaries tomorrow. Zack is confident she’ll be happy about our little
getaway, but I’m not so sure.
I decide to text her. I’d rather save up my surprises for tomorrow.
How does Taco Casa sound? I could pick some up and come by. Zack’s
still out of town so we won’t have to share.
I shut down my computer and lock up my office, excited at the thought
of seeing Mallory.
Sorry, tonight isn’t good for me.
 I read her reply a dozen times wondering what the fuck could make
tonight not good for her. A burst of jealousy rushes through my body like a
jolt of electricity. Surely, she’s not seeing someone else. She wouldn’t do
that. But if it’s not someone else then what the hell could it be?
I wait to see if she will elaborate, but my phone stays silent. I shut off
the screen and drive myself home, jealous indignation burning through my
veins.

M allory didn ’ t call last night , and she hasn ’ t texted me once
today. To say I’m upset is an understatement. It’s nearly five o’clock, and
I’m watching the seconds tick by, six o’clock can’t come soon enough. I’m
just getting ready to leave when my phone chimes.
I’m so sorry, but I have to cancel our date tonight. Something came up.
What the actual fuck? Hell no. She is not canceling on me again. Zack
swore she was free this weekend, he told her there was a fake appointment
with the cable guy on Saturday afternoon so she wouldn’t make any other
plans. Jen asked her to take care of her cat on Sunday since she had a last-
minute business trip that was magically canceled, so that leaves her
completely free on Sunday.
Instead of replying, I shove my phone in my pocket and head over to
Zack’s to whisk my wife away for the weekend.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER NINE

MALLORY

I’M SO SORRY, but I have to cancel our date tonight. Something came up.
I laugh at the text I just sent Scott. ‘Something came up.’ Yeah, like
everything I’ve eaten in the last two days. It seems that I finally caught the
nasty stomach flu that has made its rounds at the office. It’s miserable.
I cautiously take another sip of my ginger ale and say a silent prayer
that it stays down. I settle back onto the couch and press play on the remote.
I’ve spent the last two days watching the Harry Potter movies between trips
to the bathroom. I jerk awake when someone pounds on the door. It’s
obvious by the continuous knocking that whoever it is has been knocking
for a while. I glance at the clock; I’ve been out for nearly an hour.
“Ugh, hold your horses, I’m coming,” I mumble as whoever it is knocks
again. A quick look through the peephole and I see it’s Scott. Crap crap
crap. Why is he here? I look down at myself and cringe. I’m wearing an
oversized t-shirt that sports a big assed stain from a wine accident, my
oldest, comfiest pajama pants that are nearly threadbare. My hair is a mess,
and I know I look like absolute shit. More like shit twice warmed over and
ran over.
“Mallory, I know you’re in there, open up!”
I push my over-hot forehead to the cool wood of the door and take a
deep breath, then unlock the door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask,
trying really hard to sound nonchalant, but I’m silently freaking out because
I hate that he’s seeing me like this.
“Are you sick?”
The question seems to trigger an instant response because I can feel the
few sips of ginger ale I took before my impromptu nap staging a revolt in
my stomach. I cover my mouth with my hand and turn and run to the
bathroom, praying I make it.
A warm hand caresses the back of my neck as I lean over the toilet
retching. “Oh God, get out of here,” I say between bouts of vomiting.
He ignores me, instead, he wets a rag and runs it over my forehead, then
down around my neck. The coolness feels so good I could cry. When I’m
fairly certain there is nothing left to puke, I stand on shaky legs. Scott puts a
line of toothpaste on my toothbrush and hands it to me. I quickly brush the
taste of bile from my mouth, both loving and hating that he’s here taking
care of me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“Because… I’m gross. You don’t need to see me like this.”
Scott shakes his head. “It’s my job to take care of you. Besides, this
isn’t the first time… remember the hot dog incident?”
“Oh God, don’t remind me.” We’d only been together for six months
when we decided to road trip… I learned a rough lesson on that trip. Gas
station hot dogs are not my friend. I was sick for the whole trip. I spent half
the trip with my head hanging out the window of the car and the other half
sprawled on the disgusting floor of a cheap motel bathroom. I’m not sure if
this is worse or if that was worse. Probably that. Yeah, definitely that.
“Let’s get you into bed.”
I don’t have it in me to argue. I remember the tender way he’s always
taken care of me when I’ve been sick in the past, and I won’t even lie, I
need that right now.
“I’m sorry about our date.”
Scott pulls the covers up over me and tells me not to worry about it that
we can go out anytime. That my health comes before anything. He sits on
the edge of my bed and strokes my hair. It feels so good that I’m asleep
within minutes.

P regnant .
That one little word flashes on the screen to the seventh pregnancy test
I’ve peed on, and I’m frozen in place staring at it. Seven positive tests.
Seven. I’m pregnant. All at once I’m swamped with both excitement and
trepidation.
Things have been great with Scott. I mean really, really great. It’s been
nearly three months since I moved out and if I’m going to be completely
honest, I was ready to move back in after the first month… I’m terrified of
rushing back into things. We had a long talk over the weekend, he surprised
me with a trip to Paradise Cove, and it was magical. Well, minus the little
problem of puking after smelling the clam chowder at my favorite little
restaurant in the charming small town. Which is what prompted the trip to
the corner store and the panic buying of ten pregnancy tests the minute that
Scott dropped me back off at home.
I look at the three unopened tests and debate the sanity in taking them.
I’m pretty sure the chances of seven tests being wrong are pretty slim.
“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Zack calls from the living room. “Girl you will
never believe what happened to me today.”
I quickly shove all the trash from the tests back into the bag and collect
all my positives with their two lines, plus signs, and bold declarations of
pregnant, and rush across the hall to my bedroom. I’m standing in the
middle of the room with an armload of evidence to something I’m positive
—ha ha I’m just positive all over the place today—that I don’t want to tell
anyone about when Zack pushes my door open.
I’m not exactly sure why I do what I do in that moment, but I toss all
the tests in the air and run toward Zack, trying to push him out of my room
before he can see. All of this was stupid for multiple reasons. One: the
floors are hardwood. Two: I’m a major klutz and I haven’t had a good fall
in long while. Which is why when I step on one of the little plastic sticks
and go sliding across the floor, I’m not in the least bit surprised.
Zack’s quick reflexes are the only thing that saves me from busting my
ass. I am super thankful, don’t get me wrong, but now he’s in my room,
standing in the middle of the fallen pregnancy tests looking at me like I’ve
lost my mind.
“Uhm, there something you want to talk about, Mal?” he asks. He picks
up one of the tests and his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, so, I’m pregnant! Yay! Maybe?” And then I burst into tears. Big
ugly cry tears.
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 CHAPTER TEN

SCOTT

“LOOK what the cat dragged in. My man, it’s been too fucking long,”
Timothy says when he answers the door. “It’s good to see your ugly mug.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you too, prick.”
“Come on down, the rest of the boys are already here. Are you ready to
lose all those hard-earned dollars of yours?”
“Glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t changed. We both know you’re
going to bluff big and I’m going to clean the floor with you,” I jeer.
“We’ll see about that, you’re out of practice.”
“Poker is like riding a bike. You never forget how to play.”
I follow my friend down to his man-cave and am immediately greeted
by the rest of our friends. Trent, Jack, and Adam are sitting around the same
table we’ve played at since Freshman year of college. It’s been moved from
place to place over the years, finally coming to its permanent home in
Timothy’s man-cave after he got married and moved to the suburbs.
“Let’s play some cards,” Adam says as he shuffles the deck.
“Dude, you know you don’t have anything. Just fold and put yourself
out of your misery.” Just as I predicted, Timothy is holding a shit hand but
refuses to fold. Instead, he raises me by five bucks. I almost take pity on
him, but then I call and lay out my cards: a full house. Timothy tosses his
cards down and shows his pair of twos. “Every time, why do you do that?”
“A man has to take risks sometimes—” His words are cut off by a
yawn. It’s only then that I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the
slump of his shoulders. He looks like he’s about ready to keel over any
second.
“Lili still not sleeping through the night?” Trent asks sympathetically.
 “Hell no, the little heathen is out of bed more now than when she was a
newborn.”
Trent nods in understanding. “Amanda was like that… come to think of
it, Aaron and Anne were too.”
Timothy smacks my shoulder. “Be glad you and Mal haven’t jumped on
the parenthood train yet. I love my Lili, but I miss sleep… and sex.”
The guys all laugh, but his offhanded comment is like a kick to the
skull. Babies. A conversation Mallory and I had springs to mind, and I
instantly know why I grew distant. Mal wanted to stop taking birth control.
After a long conversation, we decided we were ready to make our family…
I try to imagine Mallory rounded with our child and the only reaction I
have is fierce, possessive joy. I picture a little girl with Mal’s big blue eyes
and brown hair, and my heart swells like the Grinch’s. I want that. I want
what Timothy is complaining about. I want sleepless nights. Midnight
feedings, diapers, crying, screaming, puking… all of it. Well, maybe not the
no sex thing, but the rest of it—hell yes.
Why did the idea of starting our family cause me to pull away? The
very thought fills me with nothing but joy. I try to remember what could
have caused my change of heart after our conversation…
The promotion. I was up for another promotion. Knowing what it would
mean for us if I landed the job, I pushed her away. Fuck me. I remember the
relief when Mallory got her period. We fucked like a couple of bunnies after
deciding to have a baby, and I was so relieved that it didn’t take. Mallory
was crushed. God, I was a real fucking bastard.
I’m beyond glad that I finally figured out what caused me to pull away.
Now I can tell Mallory, and we can move forward. She won’t have to worry
about it happening again. The very thought of her pregnant makes my cock
hard. I’m no longer the man I was before. I’m no longer obsessed with my
job; I’m obsessed with my wife.

M allory is quiet as she pushes her food around her plate . S he ’ s

hardly taken a bite, and something is obviously on her mind.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh, just a lot on my mind.”
 “Like?” I prod.
“Us, mostly.”
“What about us?”
She shakes her head and pokes at her chicken with her fork. “Just
thinking about the future…”
“Mal, I know what happened. I know why I pushed you away, and I can
guarantee you it won’t happen again.”
She looks up at me with hopeful eyes. This is the conversation she’s
been waiting all these months for. She needs to know what happened so she
can move on.
“Remember when I was up for that big promotion?”
She narrows her eyes like she’s trying to remember then nods. “Yeah…
what about it?”
“We had just decided to try to have a baby.”
“I remember…” she says almost warily.
“The promotion was a big deal. I couldn’t see myself landing it while
dealing with a newborn… the timing suddenly seemed wrong. I should’ve
just told you I didn’t want to have a baby. We could have avoided all of
this.”
All of the color drains from Mallory’s face. “Don’t want a baby…” she
says slowly like she’s tasting the words.
“See, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s something small and stupid that turned
into a big thing because I stupidly didn’t talk to you.”
Anger and hurt flash through Mallory’s eyes as she tosses her fork
down. “Not a big deal?! Not a big deal?! Are you fucking kidding me? We
talked for weeks about having a baby. You said you were excited! You spent
every waking second we were together buried balls deep inside me telling
me how you were going to plant your baby in me!”
Okay, so that is not the reaction I expected. I didn’t realize how upset
this would make her. “But don’t you see, this isn’t a huge problem. It wasn’t
something you did or me falling out of love or any of those things you’ve
been worrying about. This was all just a lack of communication.”
“Lack of communication,” she repeats. “If that’s all you think this is
then you are an even bigger bastard than Jen thinks.”
Mallory pushes away from the table and heads to the front door without
another word.
“Mallory, where are you going?”
 She shakes her head, meeting my confused gaze with her tear-filled one.
“I’m going home, Scott. I’m going home, and then I’m going to take a
shower and go to bed and try to forgive you for all of this.”
I’m left standing in stunned silence as she closes the door behind her.
What the hell just happened?
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 CHAPTER ELEVEN

MALLORY

I SOMEHOW HOLD myself together until I get home, but the minute I
walk through the door and see Jen and Zack on the couch fighting over a
bag of chips, I lose it.
“What did that fucker do this time?” Jen asks.
“He doesn’t want to have babies,” I stutter and sob, collapsing to my
knees. I wrap my arms around my stomach, desperately trying to hold
myself together.
“Are you sure?” Zack asks. “You guys always talked about a family.
Three kids, two dogs, a cat, and a white picket fence. If I remember
correctly.”
I half laugh half sob at the reminder. “Scott finally remembered what
caused him to pull away from me… we were trying to have a baby, and he
changed his mind.”
“That stupid motherfucker. I’m going to cut off his balls and feed them
to him.” The cold determination in Jen’s voice is enough to make me pause
in my sobbing.
“No, no feeding him his balls.” I take a steadying breath. “I’m done. I’m
calling Antonio tomorrow to get the paperwork started for the divorce.”
Zack gives me a concerned look. “Are you sure that’s wise? I mean,
don’t stab me, but should that be something you decide while you’re so
emotional?”
“He doesn’t want babies, and I’m pregnant. It’s time to let go and move
on.” My hand falls to my stomach. “This little one deserves all the love in
the world, and I won’t force him or her on Scott. He would resent it. I
refuse to let my baby live with a father that doesn’t want to be a dad.”
“M allory !” H is voice is a jolt to my system . I’ ve been half dead
for the last three weeks. I haven’t spoken to Scott, other than to tell him to
leave me alone. My lawyer sent him the paperwork for the divorce two
weeks ago, and he’s refused to sign or even acknowledge that this is
happening.
“Go away, Scott,” I say as I let myself into the apartment building.
“Sign the papers.”
“Never,” Scott says with conviction.
I do the same thing I’ve done every day for three weeks, I shut the door
in his face and ignore him. I manage to hold back my tears until I’m safely
ensconced in Zack’s apartment.
“He out there again?” Zack asks.
“Yeah, he’s not giving up. I don’t know what to do!” I cry.
“I could talk to him…”
“No, it’s fine. The lawyers will take care of everything.”
“Mal, are you sure this is what you want?” Zack has been extra
supportive even though I know he doesn’t agree with my decision. He’s not
the only one. Surprisingly enough, Jen isn’t happy with me. She thinks that
Scott deserves the chance to decide for himself if a baby is what he wants or
not. And while I do agree, I just can’t seem to make my way out of the well
of pain his revelation pushed me into.
“You know it’s not what I really want. I want my husband. I want him to
want to have a baby. And now I’ll never know if he would’ve chosen to try
for a baby or if I’ll be forcing a child that he doesn’t want on him. I want us
to be a family, but I don’t know how I can ever trust him again.”
“I know what he did was shitty. Really fucking shitty, but you’re not
happy. You can’t go on like this.”
“I know, Zack. I know…”
“And you have to tell Scott about the baby. Maybe he will surprise you.
He’s not the same man he was when you first left him. Even Jen agrees that
he’s better. Hell, maybe better than he was before he pulled away. It’s been
weeks, and he’s still outside every single day. He’s a workaholic, but he
spent the last several months leaving work early, taking you on dates,
cooking you dinner, hanging out here, calling and texting like he can’t stand
the idea of not talking to you every minute of the day…” Zack trails off,
and I know he wants to say more… he wants to tell me how much Scott
loves me and that I need to be braver than I am. It’s a hard truth that I don’t
want to face because I don’t feel brave—not in the slightest bit.
Zack is right. I know he is, but my heart feels like a fragile thing and
I’m terrified of all the ‘what ifs.’ What if he doesn’t want the baby? What if
he says he does, but changes his mind and pulls away again? What if he is
excited about the baby and happy to be a father? I’ve ‘what if’ed the
situation to death.
“You’re right… I’m just scared,” I admit.
“I know you are, hon, but you’ve got to do something. It’s like you’re
frozen with this indecision.”
“I filed for divorce. It doesn’t get much more decisive than that…”
Zack shakes his head, a sad look on his face. “You did that out of anger
and fear. It’s not what you want, and quite frankly, it’s not what is best for
you. Call Scott, tell him about the baby and let the cards fall where they
may. If he’s the man I think he is, he will be thrilled and be ready to fight
twice as hard to get you back.”
“I hate when you make sense.”
Zack pulls me into a hug. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“Guess it’s time to find my big girl panties…”
Tomorrow I will call Scott… maybe.
OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TWELVE

SCOTT

THREE MONTHS. Mallory has been avoiding me for three fucking

months, and I’m miserable. It’s like she’s taken all the good things in the
world with her and I’m left in the dark without any hope that the sun will
come out again.
“Mr. Tramble, you need to sign the papers. Mrs. Tramble’s lawyers are
going to push for a divorce by default if you don’t sign. You’ll lose
everything. All properties will go to her, along with a substantial amount of
alimony.” My lawyer is a broken record. I know exactly what is happening,
but I just can’t. I won’t be the one to put the final nail in the coffin of our
marriage. There has to be a way to fix this.
“My answer is the same as always. I’m contesting the divorce. I won’t
sign the fucking papers. You’re my lawyer, fix it.”
He starts to protest, but I slam my phone down disconnecting the call.
And just because it feels good to slam the phone in the receiver, I do it
again. And again. And again, and because I’ve officially lost it, I rip the
phone off my desk and throw it at the wall. It crashes with a bang and busts
into pieces.
My secretary rushes into the room. “Mr. Tramble is everything okay?”
“No, no it fucking isn’t.” I know I’m being a dick, Shirley doesn’t
deserve my attitude, but I’m fed up. “Call maintenance and have them
replace my phone.” I slam my briefcase on my desk and dump all the
papers from my desk into it. “I’m going to work from home. Reschedule all
my meetings for the week.”
“But Mr. Tramble, Mr. Thorton is coming today…”
“Chuck can handle it, and if he can’t, he can find another fucking job.”
 Shirley’s eyes go wide, and she quickly agrees and leaves me to my
temper tantrum to do as I bid. I’ll apologize later. For now, I need to get the
hell out of here before I completely lose it.
I don’t go home… I find myself parked outside Zack’s building. Again.
I stopped trying to get Mallory to talk to me weeks ago, but I can’t seem to
stay away. I sit across the street and watch her enter the building. The thirty
seconds I see her isn’t nearly enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I’ve turned into a
fucking stalker.
A knock on my window startles me. I was so wrapped up in thoughts of
Mallory I didn’t notice Zack approaching. I hit the button and roll the
window down.
“Dude, you look like shit.”
I snort a sardonic laugh. “How would you look if the only interaction
you had with the love of your life is watching her walk from her car to an
apartment building where she’s living with another man?”
Zack shakes his head. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Yeah, I know, but it doesn’t change the facts.”
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
I close my eyes, and my head falls back onto the headrest. How long am
I going to do this? It’s a fair question, the answer is simple: “Until she gives
me another chance.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. Mal is just as miserable as
you are.”
I’m selfish enough that knowing she’s suffering makes me happy. I
mean, I don’t want her to suffer at all, but I also don’t want her moving on
and being happy without me. I want her to need me. I want her to stop
being so damn stubborn.
Zack’s hand falls on my shoulder in a supportive gesture before he
walks away. Thirty minutes later, my beautiful wife parks her car, and I
devour every detail as she walks to the front door. I notice little things I
haven’t cataloged before; she’s got dark circles under her eyes, her
shoulders are slightly slumped, she looks exhausted, and every bit as
miserable as Zack said. My heart aches at the sight, for one weak moment, I
consider signing the papers and letting her go. Then she’s behind the closed
door and I the brief respite I get from seeing her is gone, and I know that
I’ll never give up fighting. Zack said she’s miserable, that means she needs
me as much as I need her.
 Reluctantly, I drive away, leaving my heart behind to go to our empty
house and my miserable existence. Maybe I’ll get drunk. I could use a few
hours of oblivion. God, I’m a depressing fucking mess. My phone dings
with a text as I pull into the garage.
My heart is in my throat when I see it’s from Mallory.
Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?
It takes three tries to type out my response because my fingers won’t
seem to cooperate. Yes, of course, just tell me when and where and I’ll be
there. I’ll always be there.
Noon at Barry’s work for you?
I’ll see you at noon.
Finally, this is my chance to make things right. I can’t fuck this up.
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 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MALLORY

“TEXT HIM,” Jen says. “You can’t keep it from him anymore. You’re
starting to show for Christ’s sake! He’s going to find out on his own and
then what will you do?”
I came home from work to an intervention. Jen and Zack have ganged
up on me and aren’t letting me off the hook.
“The whole reason you are in this mess is because of a lack of
communication!” Jen is practically yelling now. “How is this any different
from what he did to you?”
I wince as her words lance through me because she is absolutely right.
I’m doing exactly what Scott did to me. With a sigh, I grab my phone and
stare at the screen trying to find the words… Jen yanks the phone out of my
hand and starts typing.
Within seconds there is a ding and Jen types out another text then hands
the phone back to me.
“There. No backing out now.”
I read the messages
Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?
Yes, of course, just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. I’ll always
be there.
Eleven at Barry’s work for you?
I’ll see you at noon.
I t ’ s almost time for me to meet S cott and my stomach is roiling
with nerves. Not for the first time I look in the mirror, turning from side to
side making sure my clothes camouflage my bump. Within the last week or
two, my belly has popped out. I’m wearing layers, as long as my shirt
doesn’t cling, you can’t really see the curve of my belly. I absolutely don’t
want him to know until I have a chance to speak with him first.
The restaurant is packed when I get there, Barry’s is one of the best
places for breakfast and brunch in the city, it’s not surprising that the place
is busy. I look around the restaurant and have to remind myself to breathe as
my eyes fall on Scott for the first time in weeks. He looks tired. Despite the
dark circles under his eyes, he is still the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes
on.
It takes a massive dose of willpower to keep from running straight into
his arms and falling into his embrace. I know without a shadow of a doubt
he’d wrap his big strong arms around me and hold me close. He’d welcome
me with open arms and an open heart. He’d feel my stomach—and that
thought is what makes me slide into the bench seat opposite of him instead
of throwing myself at him.
Scott opens his mouth to say something, then closes it as if he changed
his mind about whatever it was he wanted to say. We sit in semi-awkward
silence just taking each other in. Now that I’m here I have no idea how to
start. Thankfully, the waitress shows up and breaks the tension.
“What can I getcha to drink?”
“Coffee for both of us, please,” Scott answers and my heart clenches
because he doesn’t know that I gave up coffee because of the baby. His
baby.
“Actually, can I get apple juice and a water?”
“You betcha. You ready to order or do you need a minute?”
Scott isn’t paying attention; he’s studying me closely as if he’s trying to
pinpoint why after all the years he’s known me I’m not ordering the same
drink I’ve always ordered when eating breakfast food. I squirm in my seat
at his penetrating gaze.
“I’m ready to order… Scott?”
“Oh, yeah. Eggs over-medium, bacon, and pancakes,” he rattles off his
usual, and I know that he’s ordered pancakes because I never do even
though it’s what I really want. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to stave off
the tears that want to fall. I’ve become a weepy, hormonal mess and I hate
it. I’ve cried more in the last several months than I have in the last ten
years. It’s ridiculous.
“And you?” The waitress turns to me, pen at the ready on her order pad.
This is another thing that’s going to be different, and Scott is definitely
going to notice. Ever since my morning sickness started, I can’t stand the
smell or taste of bacon. I’m one of those bacon is life people, so it’s been a
real adjustment. Not to mention that I can’t have my favorite dippy eggs.
“Hard scrambled eggs, sausage links, and biscuits with gravy, please.”
Scott narrows his eyes at my order. I just shrug like it’s no big thing.
The waitress leaves, and I decide it’s time to break the ice.
“Thanks for meeting me…” Okay, so that was the lamest thing I could
have said, but it’s a start.
“I’m so glad you reached out. I’ve missed you.” Sincerity rings through
in his words, it helps settle something deep inside me.
“I’ve missed you, too. This hasn’t been easy for me,” I admit.
Scott reaches across the table and grabs my hand. I drop the napkin I
didn’t realize I was mutilating. Even that small contact is a balm to my soul.
It’s just more proof that my entire being yearns for this man and I’ll never
be able to live happily without him.
God, please let this conversation go well, I pray.
“I have something important to tell you, and I’m not really sure how to
say it.”
Scott tightens his grip on my hand. “You can tell me anything.”
I hope he still feels that way in a couple minutes. Here goes nothing…
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 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SCOTT

MALLORY’S HAND is cold and clammy in mine. She’s so obviously

nervous about whatever it is she has to tell me, and I want nothing more
than to reassure her that she doesn’t need to be anxious. She can tell me
anything. I might not like it, but I’m prepared to listen. For the first time in
months, she’s actually willing to talk to me. As far as I’m concerned that’s a
win no matter the subject matter.
She takes a deep breath and straightens in her seat like she’s shoring up
her defenses. What the hell could she have to say? Please don’t let this be
her confronting me about the divorce. I don’t think I could handle her
telling me it’s over from her own lips. I can almost forget the reality of the
situation when it’s just the lawyers talking, but from her, it would make it
real, and I’m not ready for that.
And I’m not ready for the words that come out of her mouth either
because I’m stunned speechless.
“I’m pregnant.”
I know I’m gaping. I know I’m just staring at her like she’s grown a
second head. I know this isn’t the appropriate response. On the outside, it
probably looks like I’m freaking out, but on the inside, I’m filled with fierce
and all-consuming elation. Mallory is pregnant with my baby; I want
nothing more than to strip her down and see all the ways her body has
changed to accommodate our baby.
“The baby is yours.” I hate that she feels the need to clarify. Of course,
the baby is mine. Mallory is mine. “Well, say something,” she says pulling
her hand out of mine. I instantly feel the loss.
“Sorry, you caught me off-guard.”
 “Yeah, well…” She chews on her bottom lip and somehow manages to
look both hopeful and dejected at the same time.
“I can’t believe it… I mean…” I trail off because I’m remembering the
clasp of her pussy around my bare cock and I know exactly how it
happened, the only time she’s allowed me to make love to her and we didn’t
use condoms. We’ve never used condoms, not since the first time. We got
tested, and Mallory was already on birth control… there was never a reason
to have anything between us. I don’t know why I assumed she was on the
pill. I can’t say I’m upset because I’m fucking thrilled that she’s pregnant.
“I thought you were on the pill.”
Anger flashes in her eyes and her entire body goes taut with tension.
“Why would I be on the pill? The last I knew you wanted to try for a baby
and then you didn’t touch me for over a year!”
I’m not sure what to say to that because she’s not wrong. “I’m sorry.”
From the look on her face, that was the exact wrong thing to say. “Sorry.
You’re sorry?!” She’s practically screaming and drawing attention from the
other diners. If she weren’t so upset, she’d be embarrassed, but as it is, she
doesn’t acknowledge the people around us. “You know what? Forget it.
You’re off the hook. Sign the fucking papers, Scott. We are over. This is
over. Quit contesting. Just… let me go.” The last is said on a sob. As she
gets up from the booth, her oversized shirt is pulled tight to her body, and I
can see the distinguishable baby bump.
I call after her as she walks away, but she ignores me. Just then the
waitress shows up with a tray laden with our food trapping me in my seat so
that I’m forced to watch Mallory walk out of the restaurant. By the time I
throw money down for our uneaten meal, Mallory is long gone, and I’m left
standing in the parking lot at a complete loss as to what to do now.

I’ m back to being regulated to sitting outside M allory ’ s apartment

building waiting to catch a glimpse of her and it fucking sucks. It’s been a
week since our misunderstanding—and that’s what it is, if she would’ve
given me a chance to wrap my mind around my thoughts, she’d have
known how happy I am to be a dad.
 The passenger door opens, and Jen plops down in the seat, slamming
the door closed. She turns in the seat and glares at me. If looks could kill,
I’d be a dead man.
“Explain yourself,” she says in her usual no-nonsense way.
“What do you want to know?”
“The better question is, do you like your dick?”
Despite my mood, I smile at that. If Jen is threatening bodily harm, then
she’s not completely written me off. It gives me hope because if she thought
Mallory and I were finished, she’d not waste her time with not-so-veiled
threats.
“I’m kind of attached to it.”
Jen rolls her eyes. “What happened at lunch? Mal won’t talk about it.”
“She told me she’s pregnant and that I’m off the hook.”
“That fucking idiot,” Jen growls. “So damned stubborn. Tell me, what
do you want?”
That’s the easiest question I’ve ever answered. “I want what I’ve always
wanted. I want my wife.”
“The baby?”
“I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
Jen smiles widely. “Good answer. Now, what are you going to do to win
her back? She’s convinced you don’t want to be a dad.”
“She won’t talk to me. I’ve tried.”
Jen taps her finger on her lips, thinking. “I know! She’s got a doctor’s
appointment next week. You’ve got to go to it and show her that you’re all
in.”
Another week without Mallory sounds like hell, but Jen is right, if I can
make her see that I truly want our baby, she’ll come back to me. I just have
to figure out what to do with myself for the next week so that I don’t lose
my ever-loving mind.

I stand in the middle of what used to be my home office but is now a

nursery. The walls are a pale yellow, the hardwood floors are covered in a
plush rug, there is a rocking chair set up in one corner. I just finished
assembling the crib and changing table. Adam is putting the finishing
touches on the mural he is painting on one wall—a forest scene with
woodland creatures that match the bedding and everything else in the room.
Once he is done the room will be complete—and perfect.
Jen was right that I needed to prove to Mallory that I am all in with us
and the baby. Going to the doctor’s appointment is an excellent first step,
but it isn’t enough. That’s when I decided to start this project. She’s worried
that I don’t want the baby, but I know she’s also still worried that I’m going
to go back to my obsessive work hours. I can’t think of a better way to
show her that is absolutely not going to happen than to convert my office
into a room for our baby.
When we bought the house, we bought it with the idea that our family
would grow. There are three guest bedrooms that are mostly empty. It
would have been simpler to convert one of those rooms, but this is better.
This is a physical representation of my commitment to change.
Adam claps his hands together. “All done, what do you think?”
“It’s awesome, man. Thanks for doing this last minute.”
“No problem. It’s a nice change of pace to the commercial shit I do for
work. I mean what artist doesn’t want to spend a weekend painting cute
little foxes and raccoons?” he says half sarcastically.
“Seriously, I appreciate it. Mallory is going to love this.”
“Anytime. Now you just have to talk her into taking your dumbass
back.”
That’s the damn truth, I think. “Her appointment is tomorrow. I’m
bringing her home with me come Hell or high water.”
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 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MALLORY

TODAY IS BITTERSWEET. I’m getting an ultrasound, and I’ll see my

baby for the first time and find out if it’s a boy or a girl. Scott should be
here for this. Jen was supposed to come but had a last-minute client
emergency and had to cancel so now I’m sitting here in a paper gown by
myself. I rest my hand on my belly, well kind of alone.
There is a brisk rap on the door before the doctor lets himself in the
room. I’ve never understood why doctors bother knocking when they don’t
wait for you to tell them to come in.
“Mrs. Tramble, how are you today?”
“I’m good. Nervous and excited.”
He chuckles, his prominent laugh lines tell the story of someone who
spends more time smiling than frowning. I love Dr. Lovelace. He’s in his
late fifties with salt and pepper hair. He’s been married for years and has
four kids that he always manages to brag about. With a single smile, he can
make a person feel completely at ease. I’m thankful for that because I have
a feeling that I’m going to need a whole bunch of his smiles to get through
the rest of this pregnancy on my own.
“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous and excited. You’re going to meet
your baby for the first time and see who has been giving you all that
morning sickness you told the nurse about.”
“Ugh, more like all-day sickness.”
Dr. Lovelace pats my shoulder sympathetically. “Sometimes it works
out that way, but all of your labs are perfect, so there is nothing to worry
with. Now, are you ready to meet your little one?”
 My response is interrupted by a knock on the door. The doctor’s brow
furrows, and he goes to see who it is. He has a quiet conversation through
the partially opened door before he opens it the rest of the way and lets the
person on the other side into the room. I’m stunned when Scott walks in.
“Sorry I’m late, there was a wreck on the expressway and traffic was
backed up for miles.”
I shake myself out of my shocked silence and pull the paper gown
closer to my body like it’s somehow going to protect me from whatever is
happening. The stupid thing hardly covers anything. The fact that it opens
in the front instead of the back makes me feel incredibly vulnerable when
Scott takes me in from head to toe, his gaze drawn back to my stomach
repeatedly.
“What are you doing here?”
Scott’s lips quirk up in a smile—my favorite smile—the one that shows
his dimples and makes his eyes shine with happiness. “I’m here to see our
baby. I wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”
“But I thought—”
Scott closes the distance between us and cups my cheeks, resting his
forehead against mine. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips then pulls away
enough to look me in the eye. “You thought wrong, beautiful. I am so damn
happy about this little person we created. I know things haven’t been easy
and I’m sorrier for that than I can ever express to you. The only thing I want
more than to have you back in our home and in my arms is this baby.”
Scott’s hand cups my belly and my stupid pregnancy hormones cause
me to burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, beautiful. It kills me to see you upset.”
I shake my head because they aren’t tears of sadness, they are happy
tears. I throw my arms around Scott and let out a content sigh when his lips
meet mine. The sense of rightness is nearly overwhelming, and I feel like I
can breathe for the first time in weeks.
Dr. Lovelace clears his throat, and I blush furiously at the way I threw
myself into Scott’s arms in front of him. Honestly, I completely forgot that
we weren’t alone. Scott smiles down at me and brushes his fingers over my
flushed cheek.
“I love you.”
I don’t have to see my reflection to know that my smile is positively
radiant. “I love you, too.”
 “Are you ready to see your baby?” Dr. Lovelace asks.
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 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SCOTT

I’M STILL REELING as I help Mallory pack up her things from Zack’s. A
daughter. I’m going to have a daughter. I’m not too manly to admit that I
shed a couple of tears when I saw our little girl on the monitor. Her strong
heartbeat filled the room, and that whooshing sound was the best thing I’ve
ever heard in my life.
People say that fathers don’t bond with their babies until they are born,
and I call bullshit because from the first moment I laid eyes on her I was
attached. My entire world flipped on its axis, and she became the most
important thing in the world to me. Her and her beautiful mother are my
life.
Zack comes in with more boxes. “I’m glad you guys are back together,
but it’s going to be awfully quiet around here without you.”
“You could always get another roommate,” Mallory suggests. “Or you
could move that top-secret boyfriend of yours in.”
“How did you—” Zack stutters.
Mallory throws her head back and laughs the first real laugh I’ve heard
in longer than I can remember. “Because you’ve been walking around here
like a fool in love? And you’ve been on how many ‘business trips’ in the
last four months? We both know that you rarely have to travel for business.”
“Busted.”
“What I want to know is why didn’t you tell me?” Mallory can’t quite
hide the hurt in her voice.
Zack grabs her up in a quick hug. “I didn’t want to prance around
bragging about my happy relationship when yours was falling apart.”
 She smacks his arm and pushes him away. “You idiot! I would’ve been
happy for you. You’re my best friend, it doesn’t matter what I’m going
through, I wouldn’t have let my issues rain on your parade!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Zack says warding off another smack from my feisty
wife.
“So, when do I get to meet him?”
Zack shrugs. “I don’t know… things are complicated. Good but
complicated. I’ll talk to him and let you know.”
Mal gives him her best stink-eye but lets it go—for now. I have no
doubt she’ll be persistent in her pursuit of meeting the new boyfriend. She’s
almost as fierce as Jen in her protectiveness of her friends. I almost feel
sorry for the poor schmuck that’s going to have to wade through both Jen
and Mallory’s inquisitions.

“I think that ’ s the last of it ,” I say as I break down the box I just
emptied.
Mallory collapses back onto the bed. “I hate unpacking, it’s worse than
packing.”
I smirk. “Guess that explains why half of your things were still in boxes
in the closet at Zack’s.”
“Moving is the worst.”
I crawl on the bed, covering her body with mine, careful not to put
pressure on her stomach. “I guess we’ll just have to live here for the next
seventy years.”
“I think I can live with that,” Mallory says then pulls me down for a
kiss.
Her lips are soft and still taste like a hint of cherries even though I’ve
taken every opportunity to kiss her today. I can’t get enough of her. What
starts as a sweet meeting of lips quickly turns into something ravenous.
Within minutes our clothes are in a heap on the floor, and Mallory is
stretched out before me wearing nothing but a shy smile and a pink flush of
arousal.
“You’re so beautiful.”
 Mallory gives me a doubtful look, her hands moving self-consciously to
her rounded stomach. I brush them away. “Don’t hide from me. You are the
sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
I run my hands over her belly following the touch with hungry kisses.
“Your body is fucking perfect.”
I flick my tongue across her nipple before she can contradict my words.
Her breath hisses out on a moan, and I do it again. She wriggles underneath
me, pushing her breasts to my mouth, silently begging for more. Not
wanting to disappoint I suck her nipple between my lips. Back arching, she
digs her fingers into my hair, holding me in place as I lick and suck first one
nipple then the other.
I trace my fingers down her body until I am cupping her pussy. She’s
positively soaked, and I can’t wait to taste her. She throws her head back
and moans my name as I swipe my fingers through her wetness, tapping
lightly on her clit. I move to kiss down her body, wanting the taste of her on
my tongue, but she tightens her grip on my hair and pulls my lips up to hers
frantically kissing me. When we break apart, we are both completely
breathless.
“Inside. I want you inside me now,” Mallory demands.
I groan because I want that too. I want to feel the soft clasp of her pussy
while she milks my cock. But I also want this to be good for her, and it’s
been a long time since I was inside her. She’s always so fucking tight; I
don’t want to hurt her. I tell her as much, and the little minx just wraps her
legs around me and rocks against me dragging her cunt over my cock.
“Fuck me, husband. I’m so, so ready for you.”
I’d like to think I’m a strong-willed man. That I’m a patient, thorough
lover, but hearing her call me husband short-circuits my brain and I find
myself pushing into her without another thought. Her pussy is so tight it’s
almost a fight to get in. She pushes her hips up impatiently. Desperate not to
hurt her, I grip her hips holding her still until I’m fully seated. My balls are
drawn up tight to my body, and I could actually come from just that one
stroke.
Holy fuck she’s testing my resolve in every way. Even though she is
wriggling beneath me trying to encourage me to move, I stay buried to the
hilt giving her time to adjust. I cup her breast, rubbing my thumb over her
nipple to distract her. She lets out a pleased moan, and her pussy clenches
down on me making the impossibly tight fit even tighter.
 “Jesus, baby, you’re killing me. I’m barely holding on.”
“Then let go,” she says giving me permission to move.
I slowly retreat from her body, looking her in the eye the entire time. I
pause for single breath with my cock held just inside her entrance, then I’m
thrusting. Fucking her hard until she’s screaming my name and coming all
over my cock and shaking her head saying she can’t take anymore.
“One more… I want one more…” I grunt as I struggle to hold back my
own orgasm. I move my hand between our bodies and rub tight circles
around her clit. Her eyes fall closed, her hands grip my shoulders, the bite
of her nails is like a jolt to my cock. I love how wild and uninhibited she is
in moments like this. Chasing her orgasm with a single-mindedness that she
rarely shows outside of the bedroom.
“That’s it, beautiful, fucking come all over my cock.”
“With you,” she moans.
“Yes… now.”
Her hips move in time with mine, and within moments we are both
crying out our orgasms. My release seems to be never-ending, filling her
until it’s dripping out as I wring the last bit of pleasure from both of us.
Mallory collapses back on the bed, her arms and legs sprawled out like a
starfish, her face a mask of well-fucked woman. I collapse onto the bed
beside her, and she immediately snuggles against me.
“Mmm… I love you, husband,” she murmurs sleepily.
“I love you, wife.”

“G osh , I’ m so sorry I passed out on you last night . I’ ve just been so

tired lately,” Mallory says.
“Well, you are growing a whole other person at the moment. All the
books say exhaustion is perfectly normal.”
“Books?”
I rub the back of my neck feeling slightly embarrassed. “Uhm, yeah. I
might have bought a few books after you told me about the baby… I’ve
been reading up on pregnancy and babies and stuff.”
“You have?” she asks shock evident in her tone.
“Of course, I want to be here for you every step of the way.”
 Mallory wraps her arms around me hugging me close. “I love you so
dang much. That’s the sweetest thing ever.”
“Love you too, gorgeous. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She pulls away and gives me a happy smile. “I don’t need anything
except you.”
I kiss her forehead. “Well, that’s a shame because it’s waiting in my
office.”
Mallory gives an excited little squeal and scurries off to what used to be
my office. I shake my head with a smile… for someone who claims to hate
surprises she sure does get excited over them. I follow behind her at a much
slower pace, giving her a chance to see what I’ve done.
I stand in the doorway to our baby’s nursery and watch as Mallory
wanders around the room touching everything. She stops in front of the
mural that Adam painted, she takes it in then turns toward me, tears in her
eyes.
“Oh, Scott, it’s absolutely perfect, but your office…”
I close the distance between us and take her into my arms, holding her
close. “Didn’t you hear? I’m no longer an obsessive workaholic. I’ve got
more important things to obsess over—you.”
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 EPILOGUE
MALLORY — FIVE YEARS LATER

TODAY IS TWILLA’S BIRTHDAY. It’s hard to believe my little girl is

four years old. Time has flown by… I swipe at my tears as I put the
finishing touches on the last cupcake. I hate pregnancy hormones.
“Moooommmy, Bubba pulled my hair!!” Twilla screeches at the top of
her lungs running into the kitchen and colliding with my legs. I brace
myself on the counter to keep my balance. My center of gravity is beyond
skewed, being eight months pregnant is no joke. “He messed up my
piggytail!”
I can’t help but smile at her antics. Everything is life or death for a
toddler, and my girl is quite the drama queen. “Honey, Bubs is still a baby, I
doubt he did it on purpose.”
She stomps her little foot and crosses her arms over her chest in a way-
to-grown-up move. Lord, she’s going to be a handful as a teenager. “Look
at it,” she says waving her arms about, “it’s a tisasder.”
“It is not a disaster,” I correct, “And this isn’t a tragedy.” I quickly pull
the ponytail holder out of her hair and fix the wayward pigtail. “See, all
fixed.”
Twilla rewards me with the biggest, cheesiest smile and runs off to play.
The doorbell rings and I look at the clock—party time.
“Holy shitballs, you look like you’re about to pop,” Jen says as she
walks into the room, my daughter in her arms.
“What are shitballs?” Twilla so innocently asks.
“Jesus, Jen, language!”
Jen bursts out in laughter which only encourages Twilla to say the word
again thinking it’s something funny.
 “Twilla, baby, that’s a very grown-up word, Aunt Jen shouldn’t have
said it in front of you. Please don’t repeat it.”
She looks at me with knowing eyes. “Like when daddy says the fuck
word?”
Lord have mercy.
“Exactly like that,” I agree with Twilla trying to not make a big deal
over her saying yet another word she shouldn’t.
“Okay, I won’t say shitballs anymore.”
The doorbell rings again, and she runs off to greet her next visitor.
Meanwhile, Jen is practically doubled over laughing.
“Oh, just you wait, when your little bun in the oven comes out paybacks
are a—female dog.”
She snorts at my PG alternate curse. She’ll learn soon enough. Kids
repeat everything.
“Where is Davy?” I ask.
“He’s in the living room with Scott and Adam. Probably whipping out
their tools and comparing notes… you know, manly things.”
Falling in love didn’t change my friend in the slightest. She’s still as
crude as ever and tends to threaten violence anytime anyone crosses her or
one of her friends. Fingers crossed motherhood can soften what marriage
didn’t.
“Oh, Zack called and said he’ll be a little late. Apparently, the baby had
a blowout, and it was a level five. Whatever that means,” Jen says with a
shrug.
I laugh because I know exactly what a level five blowout is—not just a
whole box of wipes and new outfit, but a full-on bath. Nothing else will fix
a blowout that bad. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
The baby picks that moment to kick me in the bladder, and I wince. I
rub my belly because he doesn’t seem satisfied with just kicking me, he
stretches, and it looks like something out of a horror movie. “Whew, that
was a big one.” I pat my bump. “He’s running out of room.”
Jen looks at me with something like horror. “I thought you were about
to pull a Ripley from Aliens. That was horrific… please tell me that’s not
normal.”
“Oh, it’s normal… and something else you have to look forward to in a
few months.”
 Jen makes a little sound of distress just as the guys wander into the
kitchen. Davy comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her.
“Nauseous?” he asks with concern.
“No, but my ex-best friend is telling me all about the horrors of
pregnancy. I think you should carry this parasite for the rest of the time.”
“I wish you’d quit calling our son a parasite,” he says.
“Daughter,” Jen counters.
“It’s a boy.”
Scott laughs. “Why don’t you just have the doctor tell you? Are you
seriously going to argue over this for the next six months?”
“Yes,” they both say at the same time.
Those two really are perfect for each other.
“Aunt Jen!!” Twilla calls from the other room. “Come see my
princesses! Daddy let me open my present early!”
I look at my husband, raising my eyebrow. “Oh, he did, did he?”
“Just one. You know I can deny that little girl nothing.”
I shake my head and smile at my too sweet husband. He truly is the best
father. He dotes on Twilla and Andy, and I have no doubt he will be the
same for the new baby.
“I love you, you big softy.”
“I love you most of all, my gorgeous wife.”

The End

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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First things first! Thank you to all of my readers. Your support has been
amazing these last few years. I don’t have the words to fully express my
gratitude for all you do, so I will lamely just say ‘thank you’ and hope it
suffices.
There are two people that I couldn’t have finished this book without:
Jamey, your constant cheerleadering (read: ass kicking) always pushes
and encourages me to keep going even when I want to give up. Thank you
for reading my words even when I tell you they probably suck… and thanks
for telling me honestly when they do actually suck and for helping me make
them not suck.
Tara, thanks for the sprinting magic. Without you I’d still be somewhere
in the swampy middle of this thing.
Even though you’ll never read this, a huge thanks to my husband…
your undying love and support is everything. Thanks for putting up with my
scowls and grumping when I’m interrupted during writing time. Also,
thanks for not having me committed when I crazily talk to myself while
working through scenes. I love your face off.
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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rory Reynolds is a stay-at-home mom of two little monsters. She's a ravenous reader of romance and
firmly believes that you can never have too many book boyfriends.

She writes feisty heroines, alpha heroes, and panty drenching smut with happily ever afters.

Sign-up for Rory’s newsletter and get a free story! https://dl.bookfunnel.com/i2ehnjkchq

www.roryreynoldsromance.com

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 ALSO BY RORY REYNOLDS

Contemporary Romance
His Hellcat
Dirty Girl
Just Married
Daddy’s Princess

Paranormal Romance
Dragon’s Thief
Dragon’s Curse
Dragon’s Hope
Dragon’s Ruin
Dragon’s Treasure
Dragon’s Fire

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