She stood outside his door, an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach as she ran a hand down the leg of her shorts. Sandy and she talked for two hours at Denny's last night, munching bacon, sipping coffee, and giggling over Mitch Greenway. Karla actually giggled. Sandy just kept repeating over and over how surprised she was that someone actually snagged Karla Harper's attention in more than just a passing fashion. Or at least, without having something Karla wanted. Sandy was quite aware of Karla's viewpoint on men and relationships. The fact that Karla even contemplated surrendering her control boggled Sandy's mind. "I won't lie to you," Sandy said. "I hung around because I just knew you would give him the brush off. He's not happy being in the passenger seat of a relationship. He steers, and I just never saw you taking your hands off the wheel long enough to see where he'd take you.""To be honest, it surprised me, too. I've never been jealous before. I didn't like it."Sandy gave a
Once free, she moved to retrieve her clothes, but he stopped her. "Oh no. You were eager to get rid of them; you can eat naked." He grinned at her, noticing her gaze going to the open window by the breakfast table. "It'll be a great view inside and out."She sighed as she made her way over to the table and sat down, the morning sun caressing her flesh through the window. They were on the second floor, so the odds of anyone really seeing her were slim, but still, it made her nervous—and wet—just thinking about it.Mitch waited until she sat down, and then took the chair opposite hers. She had to admit, the food smelled and looked delicious, her stomach growling a bit as the aroma hit her senses. She was hungrier than she wanted to admit.As he slid into his chair, he gestured for her to eat as he picked up his own fork. "So, anything in your conversation with Sandy I'd be interested to hear?"She toyed with her eggs, thinking over his question. How much did she really want him to know a
"Just remember when you fuck him, though, that you're mine." It didn't matter that they had sex afterward, didn't matter that they talked about work and her mother with Paul and Sandy and a host of other things; the only sentence that kept replaying in her mind was that one. Just remember when you fuck him, though, that you're mine. Mitch didn't say don't have sex with Brad or in case you do sleep with him. No. He said when. It was a given in his mind and he wasn't even upset about it. There was no jealousy. No pouting. No manipulation of getting her to promise she wouldn't do it. Just that she still belonged to him while it happened and afterward. You're mine. His.She questioned him about it, challenging him. "Getting a little possessive, aren't you?"He just smiled. "Karla, I don't want to possess you; I want to own you. And I will."You're mine. I want to own you. I will own you. The words kept repeating over and over and over in her mind. She couldn't even function at work that ni
She didn't know what to say to that, so she chose to say nothing. Her scars ran deeper than he knew and there was not enough time in her life to make them fade. They were still raw, some still felt as if they were freshly ripped open. She took another sip of her wine."I also think they're a cover up."She tilted her head, confusion furrowing her brows. "Excuse me?"He shrugged. "A cover up. It's easy to use the pain of the past to excuse the way you are now, when in fact, most of the way you are now is who you want to be. However, I want to help cover those scars, while at the same time allowing you the freedom to explore your desires.""And just how do you expect to do that?"He smiled at her, the moon making his eyes twinkle. "Control."She rolled her eyes. "You're just not happy unless you're bossing me around, are you?""No, not really."She stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't even blink when he said it. He really did want to control her. "And just how do I
She felt Aimee's eyes on her as she downed the last of her coffee and started for the front door. "I don't get it," Aimee said. "Not only are you up early, but you're dressed and ready to leave before me. Who are you and what did you do with my sister?"Karla laughed. "You're just upset because I'm leaving you with the dishes." While her not being awake at this hour was an over-exaggeration, it was unusual for her to be this alert and dressed, ready for the day. It even surprised her."Where are you going so early? And the dishes can wait until you get home. I still cooked."Karla slid her purse strap over her shoulder as she opened the door. "Mitch wants me to help him out around the shop, so I'm going.""You're going to do oil and grease? You, definitely, are not my sister. Karla Harper gets others to do the dirty work. She doesn't do it herself. Do you even know your way around a car? Besides the back seat, I mean."Leaning on the doorframe, Karla stared at the ceiling as she shook
She just stared at him as he left, mouth partly open, befuddled. What the..? Spinning back to the desk, she just stared for a moment, allowing it all to wash over her. He expected her to organize his business? Who did that?And yet, here she was, on her day off, doing exactly as he requested. Aimee was right; what the hell had become of her?With a shake of her head and a soft chuckle, Karla started sifting through the mounds of paperwork on the desk, browsing each for content and making appropriate stacks. Invoices sent. Invoices paid. Receipts for equipment. Supplies. Tools. Estimates. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She played secretary before for a small business several years ago, but she wasn't really there for her skills. At least, not those skills. It wasn't long, however, before she was lost in the tediousness of numbers and manila file folders, while sipping the worst tasting coffee she was ever forced to endure. If she was going to keep hanging out here, she
For the next two days, Karla worked at Mitch's shop, answering phones, sorting and organizing files, and showing off the cups of her ass for their enjoyment. Wednesday, Mitch made her wear a skirt, and then they spent all day sending her up the ladder for things they didn't need, just so they could peek up at her from below. Each time she went up the ladder, she found herself staying longer and stretching out more. She wasn't sure which made her wetter, the fact that they snuck peeks at her or the fact that Mitch grinned the entire time it was happening.By the time she left Wednesday to get ready for her shift at Sand Dune, she dreaded leaving. Bartending was fun, but being around Mitch was better, so much so that even the drudgery of office work didn't sour her mood or make her want to rush out of there. She enjoyed being there, working. She didn't even realize it until she readied herself to leave for her real job, the one that actually paid her.Mitch walked her out to the car, his
She did know what he was saying, and she wasn't sure whether she felt sorry for him or just nauseous. However, she couldn't get past the look of pain on his face. He had that sappy, gooey, head-over-heels…she swallowed the lump in her throat…expression that shouted he was in love. And it was with her mother! She knew what she needed to say, what she needed to do, but it still turned her stomach. If it hadn't been for her time with Mitch and the current twist her life took, she would have leaped for joy that her mother kicked Paul to the curb, knowing the foul moods and his anger toward her would end eventually, bringing everything back to normal. Yet now, for some reason, she felt Paul's agony over the breakup and wanted to set it right. She remembered her mother's smile, her determination when she spoke to Karla about her relationship with Paul and how much she needed it. Guilt washed over her as she realized she was the reason her mother now sat at home alone, longing for someone to
They were the last ones to arrive at the park, the others already choosing a spot and Marvin Asher firing up the grill. Karla wore a skirt that actually covered everything it should and had her breasts tucked conservatively out of sight. Aimee was shocked but glad. Clint's parents would get to know all about her sister soon enough. Aimee didn't need the first meeting to be a shocker for them.Abby ran to the Ashers first, giving them each a hug and squealing when her grandfather picked her up and threatened to throw her in the air. Then, to Aimee's surprise and delight, the little girl ran to Aimee's mother and hugged her as well. She offered the others a quick hello and then darted for the playground, Clint's mother following just to keep a nervous eye on her. Paul and Mitch stood beside the picnic table, Karla clinging to Mitch's side, as Aimee's mother sat in front of them, all talking and laughing. Aimee stood still a moment, soaking in this perfect scene. They were one big happy f
Aimee stretched, her arms extending out to her side only to come up short as her hand hit another body. Rolling over, she gently ran a hand over Clint's face, a smile dancing across her own. The Saturday morning light peeked through his curtains, calling them to rise and shine, but Aimee ignored it, as she had tried to do every morning since Monday night. Every night she fell asleep beside him, and every morning she woke up wrapped around him, her arms exploring his naked chest. No matter how tired they were when they went to bed, the two of them decided, for Abby's sake, they'd make sure they wore pajamas before falling asleep. A young girl still had moments of nightmares, after all, and needed her Daddy in the middle of the night. Monday night everything changed. Bonnie was no longer his wife. Oh, he still had to stand before the judge next week and make it official, but for all intents and purposes, it was a done deal. Nothing stood in the way of their happiness now.She ran a fing
When the kiss broke, he grinned down at her. "Just tell me we can do some more photo shoots."She laughed again, harder, freer. "Clint Asher, I'll do whatever you want. All you have to do is name it." She kissed him again, this time softer, with less urgency, but just as much passion.When the kiss was over, she slid back into her seat, scooping up her wine glass as she did. "So tell me about today."He did, sharing with her how Bonnie wasn't planning on signing the papers in the beginning. First, he told her Bonnie's revelation of a need for family and why she returned. Then, he explained how he convinced her how signing the papers was the only way for the two of them to get on with their lives, that she could be the best mother to Abby she could be, but she would never again be his wife. He told Bonnie that she needed to respect Aimee and make the transition as smooth as possible. They were Abby's parents, but they would never be friends.When he finished, Aimee told him about Bonnie
The night dragged on, and Aimee could not shake her nervousness. Clint had asked her over to join them for dinner but still had not said anything about what he felt they needed to discuss. He hadn't even mentioned his meeting with Bonnie that afternoon, which made Aimee keep quiet about how the woman visited her. No need to bring up the subject if he was going to end it with her.Abby was a bundle of energy, bouncing on the couch and wanting to dominate the attention. After growing bored with that, she dragged Aimee to her room and played tea, while her father cooked dinner and music played from the front room. As Aimee played dolls with Abby, she wondered if the girl knew the extent of everything that was happening in the lives of the adults around her or if she was blissfully oblivious. For the little girl's sake, she hoped it was the latter."Dinner's ready," Clint called from the front room. Aimee had to admit he sounded happy since she arrived, not as if he was ready to send her o
A knock came at the door. Aimee glanced over her shoulder but didn't move to answer it. If it was Clint, she wanted to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.Whoever it was knocked again. Karla stepped out of the hallway, glanced at Aimee, and then moved to answer the door. "You worry too much," Karla said over her shoulder.Aimee turned back to the ocean, the curling waves matching the churning in her stomach. She knew she was being dramatic, but she couldn't stop herself. She hated defeat."What the hell are you doing here?" Karla's voice snapped Aimee's attention around. Expecting to see Clint standing there, she was stunned when she noticed Bonnie, the woman ramrod straight, her neck stiff, and one white-knuckled hand gripping her purse strap close to her shoulder. Aimee could feel the confusion furrowing her brow, her eyes squinting, as if trying to make sure she saw what she actually saw. "Bonnie?""Again I ask, what are you doing here?" Karla stood in front of the oth
Something went wrong. While Aimee had no idea what that something was, she knew it had to be about Clint's divorce. Why else would he text her saying they needed to talk right after meeting with Bonnie? The waves barreled onto the shore, breaking upon the sand and rearranging the Atlantic Coast, just as Clint's text rearranged her security, sending her spinning in the riptide of the unknown. She stared at the white foam as the ocean sucked it back out into the deeper waters, reclaiming it as its own. Had Bonnie succeeded in the same thing with Clint? Had she won the fight and taken her husband back? Once again regaining her happy little family?She closed her eyes against the onslaught of scenarios that pummeled her mind, her head screaming against the intrusion. With everything she could muster, she tried to fight the battle within her, giving Clint the assurance he wanted that she believed him when he told her he would be here forever. Yet, it wasn't her experience. Men said whatev
Clint pulled into the local Starbucks, deciding it was the safest place to meet Bonnie to get her to sign the divorce papers. Hopefully, the opportunity for her to respond negatively would be greatly reduced by the public meeting. He had no doubt that meeting her in private would lead to her doing something detrimental to the proceeding. He just wanted to get her to sign the divorce papers and get the whole thing over with, so he could get on with the rest of his life, get on with his relationship with Aimee.He sighed. Hopefully, get Aimee to calm down and return to normal. It wasn't that all the adventures she came up with weren't hot as hell. They were, and he wouldn't mind doing them, but not if she only did them to compete with Bonnie. He wanted Aimee to be Aimee, the woman he fell in love with, the woman who sat on the couch with him and Abby and watched Disney movies, the woman who jumped into a flour fight in the kitchen, giggling and tossing the white powder everywhere. He did
Aimee stretched, her body screaming its protest at her, hating the fact that morning was already here, and she needed to rise and shine. Only one part of that would be possible until after coffee. She rolled over, her gaze drifting to the sliding glass doors at the east of her bedroom. The morning sun coaxed her, urging her to call into work and take the day off, to make a day of it at the beach, the sun's rays kissing her flesh. She grinned, scrunching down into her covers, her mind drifting to Clint's lips on hers, the passion in each one of his kisses, warming her insides like the sun would warm her outside. If she was going to call out of work, she wanted to spend the day in bed with Clint.Once they left his workshop, he went to pick up Abby and then met her at Charlie's for dinner. Abby was a chatty little girl, while she drew on her kid's menu, excited about being out with them. It was even pleasant to sit at a table, Clint's arm stretched across as he held her hand, Abby bounci
They spent the next hour moving things around in his workshop, setting up a photo shoot of the furniture he intended on selling, and making each piece look enticing. Aimee threw herself into the task at hand, examining the shadows cast by the lighting inside the workshop and making a small studio spot off to the side with nothing in the background, using some of his dark dropcloths as background drops. Clint helped her move things around, happy to be the manual labor to her vision for his photos.Outside, night started to fall, casting darker shadows on the ground as lamp posts popped on, offering only a slimmer of light to illuminate the world. Aimee finished taking her pictures: rocking chairs, tables, even a dresser Clint had crafted himself. They teased, laughing at each other when Aimee wasn't so focused on what she was doing. This was her passion, taking pictures, and she could get lost in the process for hours, inspecting angles and lighting, zooming in and out, carefully select