When Clark’s phone rang, his gaze flicked to mine. It was loud in the trendy restaurant, and his phone was on silent, but it rested face down on the table, so I could feel the vibration of it through my elbows planted on the tabletop.
He flipped it over and glanced at the screen, and he didn’t have to say anything for me to know who was calling. His hesitant expression announced it was his boss, Derrick, and the software upgrade his company was rolling out was not going well.
I pressed my lips together to hold in my disappointment. We’d known for weeks going out tonight would be risky. Clark had been a programmer for Hale Banking and Holding Company long before we’d met and gotten married, and never once had an upgrade gone off without a hitch.
“It’s okay,” I said, pushing out a smile. “At least we made it through most of dinner.”
He shot me an apologetic look as he stood and snatched up his phone. It was too loud in here, so he’d take the call outside. “Maybe they just have a question.”
I quirked my eyebrow and tilted my head to let him know I thought he was dreaming. It seemed like the Nashville branch of HBHC couldn’t run without him. I’d joked more than once that Derrick was his work husband and saw Clark far more often than I did. Processing servers were always going down, or a single error in a line of code would cause a massive issue, requiring him at all hours of the day.
Even on special nights like this one.
He wasn’t outside long, and when he came back to the table, he didn’t sit. “They, uh . . . need me to come in.”
Of course they do, I wanted to snap.
My husband was an attractive man. He worked out three times a week with a trainer, had a handsome face, and took pride in his appearance. But I couldn’t look at him, too frustrated with the situation. Instead, I stared at the remainder of the steak I’d ordered for dinner.
“Hopefully it won’t take long,” he added. “But I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I lied, and forced brightness into my voice. “I’ll take an Uber and see you at home. Good luck with the system.”
“Thanks.” He leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on my forehead. “Happy birthday, Erika.”
That was what he left me with. No I love you or a kiss containing a speck of passion. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My husband had never been affectionate, and over the last few years, his sex drive had faded to nothing—right as mine had ramped up to the max. Once the desire for me had gone, it seemed unlikely it’d ever come back.
Not unless I did something drastic.
I stared across the long, narrow dining room, wrapped with exposed brick, and considered my options. It meant I was deep in thought when the waiter appeared at the tableside and gestured to Clark’s plate.
“Do you know if he’s finished? Should I get these plates out of the way?”
“Yes, he’s done,” I said. “He had to go.”
The man slowed as he collected the dish. “Oh. The gentleman said it was your birthday and ordered dessert. We were going to sing.” He delivered an amused smile. “You still want that? Our voices aren’t great, but our chocolate cake is.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no, thank you.”
He gathered the silverware and stacked it on the plates, resting in the crook of his arm. “You sure? You only turn twenty-one once.”
When he winked, it was playful and harmless, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh? And what about forty-two?”
He blinked in surprise, then looked at me dubiously. “No way.” He shook his head. “Wow. No lie. I would have guessed early thirties at the most.”
Warmth bloomed inside me. It was nice to hear, and he’d seemed genuine. “Thank you.”
I’d been blessed with both good genes and a mother who believed her children weren’t allowed to see the sun until she’d applied sunscreen to every inch of them. I looked young. My boss, Ardy, referred to me as “kid,” even though he was just ten years older than I was.
But he also called nearly everyone “kid.”
It also helped that over the last year, I’d gotten in the best shape of my life. I’d been focused to hit my goal by my next birthday, and this morning in the gym, I’d stepped up to the pullup bar and knocked out ten chin-ups without assistance.
So, tonight wasn’t about turning a year older so much as it was a celebration of a year of hard work and determination.
The waiter brought me the chocolate cake anyway, but he was smart enough to put it in a take-home box. “In case you change your mind. Happy birthday.”
I hadn’t had sweets in forever, and as I stared at the white box, I was suddenly grateful. Clark probably wouldn’t be home until the middle of the night, and a slice of cake would be a nice consolation prize.
It was around eleven o’clock that night when I got the idea. I’d been sitting on the covered back patio, holding a glass of cabernet sauvignon, and staring at my pool. It was lit by the underwater lamp in the deep end, and the shimmering water was enticing.
My first thought was to go for a swim. It was hot out, even by August’s standards. I could leave my swimsuit in the house and skinny dip. It was something I’d never done before, partly because I’d spent a lot of my adult life not feeling comfortable with how I looked. Our backyard backed up to a forest and was large, putting distance between my neighbors on both sides. But it sloped down toward Dr. Lowe’s house, meaning it was possible he could see over the top of our shared fence.
He didn’t let it bother him.
A smile teased my lips. I’d never actually seen them because his hot tub was up against the house and hidden from view, but I’d heard Dr. Lowe and his girlfriend enjoying each other. The girl was half his age and quite vocal.
It’d given me a dull pang of jealousy. Not over Dr. Lowe, but young Cassidy Shepard. Apparently, she’d been lucky enough to find a partner whose sexual appetite matched the one inside me, and from the sound of it . . . the good doctor could keep her satisfied.
I stared at the pool, watching the pretty pattern of the pool liner bend and distort as the subtle ripples caused by the pump moved through the water. Dr. Lowe wasn’t home right now. His house was dark, and I’d seen his car leaving the subdivision when the Uber brought me home a few hours ago.
If I went for a swim, perhaps Clark would come home, find me naked in the pool, and the sight of my bare, wet skin would be enough to entice him into joining me.
But it was also likely he’d be trapped at the office for hours, and by the time he walked through the door, I’d be pruney and cold, and he’d be cranky and tired. I had no control over when he’d be done.
I picked up the takeout container and carried both it and my wine glass inside the house, depositing them in the kitchen, before moving into my bedroom. My birthday present—the one I’d bought myself—was still in the box it’d been delivered in and tucked away in the back of my closet.
The deep red mesh and lace bodysuit cost more than I typically paid for an outfit, and this was something only Clark and I would ever see. If I were honest with myself, it was more for me than him. Sure, I wanted him to take one look at me packaged in the sexy lingerie and hopefully he’d remember I was a sexual being. That he’d used to find me attractive and now I looked better than ever.