leaning against the siding. Gail’s a little nosy for my taste, but living on the other side of Megan she has just as much right to bum cigarettes as I do.
“It’s supposed to be date night, but Craig’s parents are late.” Megan held open the gold box of cigarettes and smiled. I thanked her as I plucked one from its bed, and again as she handed me the silver lighter.
“I thought you both were quitting?” Of course she would. Gail smoked like a chimney when we went out, but was self-righteous whenever her husband was in a one-mile radius.
I pulled the nicotine deeper in my lungs, waiting for the calm. Not yet . I took another long drag.
“Deadline?” Meagan asked, flicking her ashes into the manicured lawn. What I wouldn’t give not to have to mow my own lawn. What I wouldn’t give for a night of inspiration with Megan’s husband.
“Monday. But I get to email in the revisions so I have the weekend.” I motioned to her shrinking smoke. “Depositions?”
Megan laughed, long and full, throwing her head of chestnut curls back. She never recognized herself in my romance novels. Either that or she never read the copies I gave her.
“So, a date night huh?” Gail always changed the subject whenever we talked about work. I’m home with the kids all day too, yet she’s still obviously intimidated No one but another writer seemed to understand I write for my own sanity. “Lucky you. Or maybe you would get lucky if it weren’t so damned hot.”
“We have air conditioning,” I said automatically.
“You’re so lucky. It’s an oven in our place.”
“Come over and enjoy the refrigeration any time you need. As long as you don’t mind tripping over fire trucks and trains.”
“Uh-oh,” Gail whispered, jerking her head in the direction of my house. I instinctively dropped the cigarette and covered it with my sandal.
“Cassie?” Craig called from over my left shoulder. Gail did come in handy every once in a while.
I turned and smiled. I’d say I smelled like smoke because Megan was smoking. “What is it?”
“Highway 82 is closed. My folks are turning back around.” He looked sorry. Was he sorry? We’d only been out twice since January, when I stated I needed more from him. Dates once a month and sex once a week. Neither happened with any consistency. I even bought a book of sexual fantasies with a different fantasy each week, but my husband had the lowest libido of any man on the planet.
“You should go,” Megan offered, nudging me in the shoulder. “Trevor and I will come over and chill with the boys.” She laughed at her play on words.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” Please say you’ll do it. I’ve been storing up my courage to do fantasy twenty-six all month.
“Your boys love Trevor. And besides, you have cable. The boys will go to bed in an hour and Trevor will be glued to the tube all night. Stay out as long as you need. I’ll be working in air conditioned comfort.”
“I’m bored.” Trevor rose from the sofa and came into the dining room where I had everything organized. The boys went to sleep without incident twenty minutes ago. Not that I’d seen much of them. They adored Trevor, and he was better with kids than I was anyway.
“I’m busy.” I answered him without looking up. This toxic mold case was so tedious. Trevor cocked his hip against the table, right next to my laptop. “I’m only going to warn you once. Knock the papers off and I’ll be a widow.”
“You’re so feisty tonight.” He was smiling that broad, dimpled smile that heated my blood…and it was hot enough. “I need to work. Go watch television. They have cable.”
“How late are they going to be?”
Very, I hope . They needed the alone time and I needed the cool to help me concentrate. “I’m not sure. I told Cassie to take as long as they need. They’re having trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Bedroom trouble.”
Trevor grimaced at the thought. “He
“It’s supposed to be date night, but Craig’s parents are late.” Megan held open the gold box of cigarettes and smiled. I thanked her as I plucked one from its bed, and again as she handed me the silver lighter.
“I thought you both were quitting?” Of course she would. Gail smoked like a chimney when we went out, but was self-righteous whenever her husband was in a one-mile radius.
I pulled the nicotine deeper in my lungs, waiting for the calm. Not yet . I took another long drag.
“Deadline?” Meagan asked, flicking her ashes into the manicured lawn. What I wouldn’t give not to have to mow my own lawn. What I wouldn’t give for a night of inspiration with Megan’s husband.
“Monday. But I get to email in the revisions so I have the weekend.” I motioned to her shrinking smoke. “Depositions?”
Megan laughed, long and full, throwing her head of chestnut curls back. She never recognized herself in my romance novels. Either that or she never read the copies I gave her.
“So, a date night huh?” Gail always changed the subject whenever we talked about work. I’m home with the kids all day too, yet she’s still obviously intimidated No one but another writer seemed to understand I write for my own sanity. “Lucky you. Or maybe you would get lucky if it weren’t so damned hot.”
“We have air conditioning,” I said automatically.
“You’re so lucky. It’s an oven in our place.”
“Come over and enjoy the refrigeration any time you need. As long as you don’t mind tripping over fire trucks and trains.”
“Uh-oh,” Gail whispered, jerking her head in the direction of my house. I instinctively dropped the cigarette and covered it with my sandal.
“Cassie?” Craig called from over my left shoulder. Gail did come in handy every once in a while.
I turned and smiled. I’d say I smelled like smoke because Megan was smoking. “What is it?”
“Highway 82 is closed. My folks are turning back around.” He looked sorry. Was he sorry? We’d only been out twice since January, when I stated I needed more from him. Dates once a month and sex once a week. Neither happened with any consistency. I even bought a book of sexual fantasies with a different fantasy each week, but my husband had the lowest libido of any man on the planet.
“You should go,” Megan offered, nudging me in the shoulder. “Trevor and I will come over and chill with the boys.” She laughed at her play on words.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” Please say you’ll do it. I’ve been storing up my courage to do fantasy twenty-six all month.
“Your boys love Trevor. And besides, you have cable. The boys will go to bed in an hour and Trevor will be glued to the tube all night. Stay out as long as you need. I’ll be working in air conditioned comfort.”
“I’m bored.” Trevor rose from the sofa and came into the dining room where I had everything organized. The boys went to sleep without incident twenty minutes ago. Not that I’d seen much of them. They adored Trevor, and he was better with kids than I was anyway.
“I’m busy.” I answered him without looking up. This toxic mold case was so tedious. Trevor cocked his hip against the table, right next to my laptop. “I’m only going to warn you once. Knock the papers off and I’ll be a widow.”
“You’re so feisty tonight.” He was smiling that broad, dimpled smile that heated my blood…and it was hot enough. “I need to work. Go watch television. They have cable.”
“How late are they going to be?”
Very, I hope . They needed the alone time and I needed the cool to help me concentrate. “I’m not sure. I told Cassie to take as long as they need. They’re having trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Bedroom trouble.”
Trevor grimaced at the thought. “He
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