That Man of Mine (21 page)

“I thought I'd make tacos.”

“Cameron will cry when he finds out he's missing tacos.” At the confused look on Mimi's face, Claire said, “He's at soccer practice and afterward the team is going out for pizza. He told you this morning at breakfast. It's Mr. Donalan's turn for carpool, so he'll bring Cameron back home afterward.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” Mimi had been so tired after staying up late to work on her proposal that she'd felt like a zombie this morning. Cameron could have told her he was going to the moon and she'd have forgotten. Tacos were his favorite meal, although pizza came in a close second.

“So I guess it's just the two of us, then, huh?” she said. This was actually good. She hadn't had a chance to be alone with Claire since forever.

Claire nodded. “Yep.”

“How about I brown the meat and you chop up the lettuce and tomatoes?”

“Okay.” Claire reached into the cabinet to pull out the cutting board and began dicing the vegetables.

“So…” Mimi said, trying to be cheerful. “Tell me what's going on with school. When do you register for community college? Do we have to put money down to hold your spot or anything?”

“There's a new student orientation in June. It's no big deal, Mom. Really. The whole process is pretty laid back. We have plenty of time.”

“All right.”

Claire dumped the tomatoes into a bowl. “I was thinking, since I'm going to be here I might as well get a part-time job while I'm in school.”

“Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Why not? I do lots of extras right now, like cheerleading and debate club, and I still have a straight A grade point average.”

Which is why it makes no sense that you didn't get into Florida State
. Mimi didn't say that out loud though.

“You know, I ran into a friend of yours the other day. Actually, it's been a few weeks now. Adam Baxter? Did you know he's working at The Harbor House? He's going to the community college, too.”

Claire hacked away at the lettuce. “Really?”

“He seemed a little nervous when we spoke.”

Claire's tone got heated. “Considering Dad threatened to chop his balls off if he ever touched me, I don't blame him for being skittish.”

“Claire! He did not…word it that way. Did he?”

Claire tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “It doesn't matter, does it? That was last year.”

Mimi stirred the meat around in the frying pan.

“How are you and Dad?” Claire asked, not making eye-contact. Was she changing the topic off Adam or truly interested in how she and Zeke were doing? Maybe it was both.

“We're okay,” Mimi said. “As a matter of fact, we're going to couples Bunco in a couple of weeks. There's a famous couples theme and your dad I got Rick and Ilsa from
Casablanca
.”

Claire laughed. “You're kidding! And that was random?”

“Completely,” Mimi said, grinning. It felt good to hear Claire laugh. “Your dad has it easy. He can rent a white tux and go around saying ‘
Play it again, Sam
,' and he's got it made. I on the other hand, have to transform myself into Ingrid Bergman.”

Claire scooped up the chopped up lettuce and dumped it into the bowl with the tomatoes. “I could help. Not with the outfit, but I could do your hair and makeup. If you want.”

Did she want
? Mimi tried not to cry. It had been so long since she and Claire had talked it felt almost foreign. “I'd love that,” she said.

“Maybe after dinner we can watch the movie so I can get some ideas for your hair.”

“I'd love that, too.”

Mimi couldn't help herself. The rest of the night she had a grin on her face that simply wouldn't go away. For the first time in over a year she and Claire were, for lack of a better word, bonding. Maybe she'd looked at this college thing all wrong. If not getting accepted into FSU meant Claire was going to stick around home for a couple more years and they could become close again, the whole thing could be a blessing in disguise.

I
t was ridiculous to
be nervous about a date with your own husband. But she was.

 Mimi had to admit Claire had done a bang up job with her hair and makeup. She'd spent almost two hours sitting in a chair in the kitchen while Claire worked on her. Using a hot curling iron and a picture off the Internet, she'd reproduced a forties shoulder length hairstyle (half a can of Aqua Net helped, too). Mimi hoped the Florida humidity, already rearing its ugly head in late April, would be kind and gentle to her tonight. Pale face powder, a light dusting of eye shadow and mascara, plus softly painted red lips completed the look.

Lauren had helped as well. She'd made Mimi an almost exact copy of the iconic white jumper dress with striped undershirt Ingrid had worn in
Casablanca
. A white straw hat and white sandals (with hose no less!) were the final touches.

Cameron came into the kitchen to get something out of the refrigerator. He stopped and frowned. “You don't look like you.”

“I think Mom looks very chic,” Claire said, standing back to inspect her handiwork.

“Is that code for matronly?” Mimi asked. It was hard to believe it was her own self that looked back at her in the mirror. She certainly didn't feel matronly. She felt…glamorous.

“Nope. I'm sticking with chic.”

There was a knock on the door, and then Zeke walked in. Mimi nearly swallowed her tongue. Toby ran around in excited circles barking, and Cameron did a double take. “You look like a spy,” he said in awe.

“Thanks.” Zeke winked at her and Mimi tried to find her misplaced tongue.

“You look very…elegant,” she said for lack of a better word. The truth was Zeke looked beautiful. A white tux and black pants were enough to make any man look good, but on Zeke it was devastating. He held an unlit cigar in one hand.

“Don't worry,” he said, following her gaze. “It's a prop. I don't intend to smoke it. Not tonight, anyway.” Then he grinned and she had to practically roll her tongue back inside her mouth.

She tried to compose herself by picking up the white clutch bag that held her lipstick and cell phone. “Ready when you are,” she said cheerfully.

Zeke placed his elbow out, leaving Mimi no choice but to accept his escort. She placed her arm around his. “Here's looking at you, Kid,” he said, imitating Bogey's rough and sexy voice.

Oh, boy
. Mimi had a strange feeling that tonight was either going to end up very badly. Or very, very good.

*~*~*

B
unco was at Kitty
and Steve Pappas's house. Last year, Shea and Moose Masterson had hosted and Kitty had gone into labor a few weeks early. Her water had broken in the middle of a game. Luckily for everyone, Nate Miller had been there and he and Lauren had driven with Steve and Kitty to the hospital with the rest of the group following in their cars. But Kitty's labor had been fast and furious, ending with a birth on the side of the road. Nate wasn't an OB GYN, but he was a doctor and he'd delivered babies in his residency, so all had ended well (except for Kitty not getting her epidural, of course).

Everyone was laughing about it now. Including Steve, who Mimi had been certain at the time was going to pass out from stress. Baby Amanda was now a year old and the apple of her daddy's eye.

They were taking a break from playing and Mimi had a hard time keeping her gaze off Zeke. He weaved in and out of other people's conversations seamlessly, laughing at their jokes and telling a few of his own. He was charming and he fit right in. As he should. These weren't just her friends, they were his friends, too. What had started out as a potentially awkward night was fast becoming one of the most pleasant evenings she'd had in a long time. It was like the two of them had never spent time apart.

“I'm so glad to see you and Zeke together again,” Pilar said. She wore a long white gown with gold sandals and bracelets on her upper arms. Nick, her husband, was totally into the role of Marc Antony, although he looked more like a gladiator than Roman nobility.

Mimi took a sip of her pomegranate martini, the signature drink of the night. “We're here together, but we're not
together
,” she told Pilar, who made a face at the news.

“I wish you two would get your act together. First you're separated, then you're not and then you are. Make up your mind already!” Pilar said good-naturedly, although Mimi suspected she'd already had one too many martinis.

Shea and Moose (or rather Adam and Eve) caught the tail end of the conversation. Shea wore a tan leotard covered in leaves. Moose, who didn't get that nickname because he was a small guy, was also covered in foliage. Mimi just hoped all those leaves kept hidden what they were supposed to.

“Make up your mind about what?” Shea asked.

“Nothing,” Mimi said brightly, trying to steer the conversation off her and Zeke. “Did I tell you the festival committee hired Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes?”

Everyone began talking at once, congratulating Mimi on what a good job she was doing as mayor. She felt herself flush. She hadn't meant to toot her own horn, but she had to admit, things were coming together better than she ever dreamed possible.

After she'd signed a contract with the band and given them their twenty-five percent deposit, things had taken off. Doreen was in charge of the festival Facebook page and they'd gotten over a thousand new “Likes” the first week alone.

Zeke had managed to convince any police officers who wanted to provide off-duty security to forego pay this year in exchange for community service points—a system he created to reward cops who gave back to the community. The city council was meeting next week to approve a final budget, and everything for Allie's wedding was taken care of. The invitations were in the mail, the flowers were ordered, a menu had been decided on for the reception and Mimi had even had time to get a dress. Since Allie didn't care what she wore, she'd picked out a lime green above the knee halter dress that had a similar feel to the dress Allie had bought.

Even Claire seemed happier. Most days, anyway. Every once in a while Mimi thought she detected a sadness in her eyes, but then it would pass. Cameron's soccer team was in first place in the district, and even Toby didn't seem to drool so much anymore. It was downright creepy how smoothly life seemed to be going.

The only dip in the road, of course, was her marriage.

Maybe she was being too hard on Zeke. Maybe she expected too much of him. Who was she to tell him how to feel about his own father's abandonment?

After a long break, they resumed playing Bunco. She and Zeke weren't winning, but they weren't losing, either. The night ended with Shea and Moose as the big winners and Moose threatening to “begin molting.” Much to the guys' disappointment (and the girl's relief), with one steely eyed glare from Shea, however, he quickly changed his mind and kept all his leaves in place.

Mimi was still laughing when she and Zeke got in the minivan to go home. The night was warm and he'd shed his white tuxedo jacket a while back. He carefully folded it and placed it in the van's middle seat.

She took off her hat and began rubbing her scalp. Her hair which was still stiff from all the hair spray, felt like it belonged to someone else.

Zeke put the car in gear and glanced at her. “You okay?”

“I'm great. It's just, my hair feels like a Brillo pad.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he said quietly.

Actually, he had, earlier tonight, but it had been said in a more generic tone than the one he used now. Currently, there was a gruffness to his voice that Mimi recognized. It seeped through her skin all the way down to her toes and made her shiver.

“Come home with me tonight,” she said.

She hadn't meant to blurt that out, but why not? He was her husband and she wanted him. And from the way he was looking at her, he wanted her, too.

His hands gripped the steering wheel. “Not unless it's for good.”

“What? You're blackmailing me because I'm horny? That doesn't seem very…Bogey of you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don't want the kids confused. If they see me in the morning, and they
will
see me, it's because I'm home to stay.”

She leaned her head back on the seat. He was right about that. “Okay, so let's go to your fishing cabin. Unless you think there's not enough room for us
and
all the food you've been getting.”

He shot a look her way. “Food?”

“Bettina told me all about the committee to feed poor lonely Zeke Grant.”

“You sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am.” She wasn't drunk, but she'd had enough of those martinis to make telling the absolute truth seem like a good idea. Tomorrow, she'd probably regret that.

“If it makes you feel any better, there's no way I can eat all the food I'm getting. I bring most of it to the police station or to the homeless shelter in Panama City. I've asked the good ladies of Whispering Bay to stop, but they insist on bringing me a hot meal every night.”

“As long as that's all they're bringing you.”

He laughed. “You
are
jealous.”

She placed her palm along the inside of his thigh. He sucked in a breath, but kept his eyes on the road. Feeling a little bolder, she lightly ran her hand down to cup him.

“
Mimi
,” he warned.

“Yes?” she said sweetly.

“Do you know it's exactly ten point four miles to the fishing cabin?”

“Is it?” She ran her hand back up to stroke him. He instantly went hard.

“So unless you want me to pull over the side of the road and fuck you in this minivan, I think you better stop.”

It was as if all the blood in her body rushed down between her legs.
Yes, please.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he made a jerky unexpected U turn. Despite wearing a seat belt, she almost banged her head against the side of the car. He went a mile or so up the road till he got to the Bay Bridge. He slowed down and rolled the car onto a grassy area facing the water. It was dark and past midnight and theirs was the only car parked there.

He moved the driver's seat as far back as it would go and unclipped both their seat belts. Mimi wet her lips in anticipation. Once, as kids, they'd had sex in a car, but they weren't kids anymore and she wasn't as limber as she'd been at seventeen. She wasn't sure exactly how this was going to go down, but she was looking forward to it way more than a thirty-five year-old woman should. He pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him.

“Take off your panty hose.”

She grinned. “I'm not wearing panty hose.”

He ran a hand up her silk clad leg and shook his head in confusion. Then he got to her upper thigh and when his hand met with nothing but warm skin he smiled, finally understanding.

“They didn't wear panty hose in the forties, silly. These are called stockings and they're held up with garters.”

“
Nice
.”

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was cramped, sitting on top of him in the front seat of the car, but it was a nice kind of cramped. Neither of them had anywhere to go, except inside one another. He pushed her dress up as his thumbs made slow, teasing circles against the skin of her inner thighs until he reached the spot she most craved. Then he stilled.

“Aren't you full of surprises tonight. What? They didn't wear panties in the forties, either?”

“Not the kind I have,” she teased. “I was going to wear underwear but this dress came out a little tighter than I expected and it's white, so everything I owned made a nasty panty line.”

“Yeah, we definitely can't have a nasty panty line. Whatever that is,” he muttered. He pulled her closer so that there was absolutely nothing between them.

She rubbed herself against him while he continued using his thumbs to drive her crazy. With the steering wheel to her back and Zeke in front she was completely trapped. Not that she intended to go anywhere. The pressure between her thighs kept building, higher and higher until she couldn't climb anymore and the only thing left to do was fall. She bit back a scream and let the pleasure wash over her until it subsided and she was floating. It took her a few minutes to realize where she was again. She opened her eyes to find Zeke studying her.

“I love to watch you come,” he whispered against her temple.

“Then watch me again.”

It took him about three seconds to undo his belt. His pants, however, were another story. There was simply no way to get them off, or at least not off enough to make the mechanics of what they were about to do work. Not with her still straddling him. She shimmied off his lap and sat back in the passenger seat to allow him to yank his trousers down to his ankles. Mimi tried not to laugh, but the expression on Zeke's face was so frantic, that it was almost comical.