Wife by Design

The man did things to her libido that even Brandon had never done. Brought fires out in her when she hadn’t even realized there had been embers.

She couldn’t wake Kara for another hour and a half. Five-thirty was morning. Potty time. And then fifteen minutes of playtime before they washed up and were ready for breakfast at 6:10. Which put them out of the bungalow at six-thirty.

Or on a day when Maddie was coming to stay as opposed to Kara’s going to day care, they’d be ready at six-thirty and Lynn wouldn’t have to leave until 6:45.

It was 4:05 a.m. So she took a long hot bath. With rose-scented bubbles.

She’d never been so aware of her intimate parts as she was as she lay in the candlelit, quiet room, and let her mind wander. It was a luxury she almost never allowed herself.

She could control her thoughts—had learned the hard way after Brandon’s life-altering revelation. She couldn’t seem to completely control her body. But what it was doing felt so good, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

When she got out of the tub, she put on blue scrubs—not rose-colored for passion, or purple for spirituality—blue for calm.

She pulled her hair back in its usual ponytail, ignored her makeup drawer and cleaned the bathroom.

She emptied the trash, changed the sheets on her bed and, because she wasn’t sure she’d put on deodorant, went back to the bathroom one more time. Where she passed her makeup drawer.

And stopped.

The conversation with Grant was important. She needed to feel confident. A little bit of mascara wouldn’t hurt.

* * *

HE BROUGHT COFFEE. Black with fixings on the side in case she wanted them. Grant wasn’t sure if Lynn drank the stuff, but if she did, she’d realize that he’d brought the good kind. He’d stopped, ordering it in a thermal cup, just before pulling into the back lot of the Stand and sliding his temporary pass key in the security keypad that would allow him inside the residents-only section.

“Who’s that for?” Darin had asked as he’d passed his older brother his usual large, dark, black cup of Colombian, kept one for himself and put the third in the cup holder behind him.

“Lynn,” Grant said. “I have a meeting with her this morning.” He’d already told Darin three times. But reminding him of that fact, if indeed he’d forgotten, would only serve to trigger his brother’s depression.

“I remember. It’s not even light yet.”

“Crazy, huh?” He said words. They didn’t really mean anything. They didn’t have to.

“She’s pretty.”

“Lynn?”

“Well, yes, Lynn’s pretty, but I was thinking about Maddie. We have therapy together today.” Darin spoke slowly, explaining with a serious tone, as though Grant didn’t know a thing about his plans.

Darin’s gym bag, with his workout shorts and T-shirt, were in the back. He’d worn jeans for the morning’s early labor.

“Just remember to keep your extremities out of the way if you’re going to push yourself beyond recommendation.”

“Yeah, I know. My leg stings. I’ll remember.”

Glancing sideways, Grant said, “You said it doesn’t hurt.”

“I didn’t want to complain. And it’s my fault.” The comment was offered in such an offhanded way that Grant heard the old Darin.

And took heart.

Life might seem to be upside down at times, but it always righted itself.

* * *

HER DOWNFALL WAS COFFEE. She’d never fallen prey to chocolate. Or soda or pizza or chips. But coffee…

In any form.

Just like the man who was handing it to her?

“I… Thank you,” she said, taking the tall, nondisposable cup he was handing her as he came through the back door from the grounds toward her office.

She’d been waiting. In case he forgot and tried to come through the front.

She took a sip. The cup’s plastic lid had a sipping hole. It wasn’t big enough for the gulp she needed. So she took it off. Took another gulp. Turned.

And knocked into the man who’d been standing close enough to be touching her.

He jumped back, holding his arm out as he hissed in a breath.

“Oh! I’m sorry….”

“It’s okay.”