I brush her hair back from her temples. “It’s been a long time,” I remind her.
She laughs. “Are you afraid you forgot how?”
“A little.”
She steps up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. She kisses me. Her lips are soft and silky, and she parts her lips immediately, her tongue reaching out to touch mine, the way that people who have kissed one another for a lifetime do, like they know exactly how to do it. Her tongue is nothing more than a raspy slide against mine, and then it’s gone. She pulls back and buries her face in my shirt with a groan. When she finally lifts her head, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are shiny.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She sniffles. “Better than okay.” She kisses the side of my chin. “I’ve missed you and I didn’t even realize it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if I lost this today, I would miss it.” She shrugs. “That’s all.”
“Lost what?” I whisper.
“You. Us. This. If it were gone, I’d be really sad.” Her voice is not much more than a whisper, but it sounds like bells going off in my head.
“You really don’t hate me anymore?” I ask, needing reassurance. I don’t know why.
“Not even close,” she says. She kisses my chin again, lingering there for just a second. “And you taste like beer,” she adds. She laughs lightly and turns to carry the basket out the door.
“Is that bad?” I ask her retreating back, but I’m laughing as I follow her out the door.
“Not at all. You should totally do that more often,” she says. Her eyes meet mine and they don’t look away. Then she breaks contact and walks to the fire, where she puts the basket down on a little makeshift table. “Somebody needs to remind me how to make a dough doggie because I have forgotten,” she says to everyone and no one.
“Give me a stick,” Mr. Jacobson snaps. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Bess takes pictures of all the kids making dough doggies, and Aaron takes Miles from Gabby to hold as he sits next to the fire.
“Are you tired?” I hear Bess ask him.
He nuzzles the side of his face against the top of Miles’s downy-soft head. “Not a bit,” he says.
“Well, if you change your mind, I could be persuaded to hold that baby.”
Aaron grins at her. “I appreciate your willingness to take one for the team. I will take your offer under advisement.”
“You want a dough doggie?” Bess asks him.
“Nuh-uh. If you make it, you’ll put a booger in it or something,” he teases. I laugh out loud. “Dude, don’t laugh,” he says to me. “You know it’s true.”
“That’s why it’s funny,” I reply and take a sip of my beer.
As the sun sets, I realize that Bess is more relaxed right now than I’ve seen her in years. She sets her camera to the side and looks for an empty chair. I’m sitting in a chaise lounge, so I move my feet. “Come sit with me,” I say quietly.
“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly. All the other adults around the fire get quiet. No one says a word.
I grab her hand and pull her toward me, spread my knees and make room for her, and she settles down awkwardly in the space. “Maybe I should—” she begins. But I grab her and jerk her up higher, so she’s almost on my lap. I lift one knee to the side so that she has enough room, and I guide her until she settles with her back against my chest. “I’m squishing you. Are you sure…” But then she goes quiet.
“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” Mr. Jacobson says, his voice quiet but firm amidst the crackling of the fire.
“Yes, sir,” she replies. She roots around until she finds the most comfortable spot to lie in, which is on her side with her head under my chin, her face almost on my chest. “Is this okay?” she asks so that only I can hear her.
“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” I say, mocking the gruffness of Mr. Jacobson’s voice.
Mr. Jacobson chuckles but says nothing. Bess settles more deeply against me, and I feel it all the way in my soul. She wiggles, and then freezes when she realizes my dick is getting hard against her hip.
“Sorry,” I whisper in her ear. Then I kiss the shell of her ear really quickly.
“I like it,” she whispers back, and then she kisses my chin. I can feel the quirk of her grin against my skin.
“Is that so?” I ask quietly, my voice more of a rumble.
“Mm-hmm.”
Mr. Jacobson plucks a half-burnt marshmallow from his stick and throws it in our direction. It bounces off my forehead, and Jake catches it on the rebound and tosses it into his mouth. “Five second rule,” he says around the big ball of goo.
Bess reaches up with her thumb to wipe the smear from the marshmallow on my forehead. As she brings her hand down, I grab it and bring it to my mouth, licking the slight sweetness from the pad of her thumb. She sucks in a breath and her hip moves against my dick.
“Be still,” I whisper in warning. But I touch the tip of her chin so that she lifts her face just a little, and I kiss her. She tastes sweet, like jelly and toasted bread, and I fight not to deepen the kiss.
“Anybody want to hear a story?” Mr. Jacobson asks the group.
“Yes, please,” the kids sing in chorus, and I can tell this is something he does with his grandkids a lot. Even Gabby is paying attention.
“Well, once upon a time…” His voice drones on and on, but I don’t hear any of it. Instead, I concentrate on the fact that Bess is in my lap, that she’s open and eager and she’s picking up everything I’ve put down. She’s not turning me away. And that’s a damn good feeling.
“You want to go home?” she asks me quietly. And I know what she means. Do you want to go home and have sex? Do you want to ease that ache inside me? Do you want to make love to me?
“Not yet.” I don’t want to ruin this. And I also don’t want to move too fast, because I want this to last.
Aaron catches my eye from the other side of the fire and gives me an exaggerated wink. I ignore him and take a sip of my beer. Bess takes it from me and takes a sip of it too, her lips where mine just were. She puts it back in my hand, and I know I am a goner.
There’s nothing wrong with being in love with my wife, is there?
34
Bess
I get so comfortable lying in Eli’s lap that I almost fall asleep. We listen as Mr. Jacobson tells stories to the kids. Many of them were ones we heard when we were younger, and we pay attention as raptly as the kids do, for nostalgia’s sake. Nights spent around the fire pit were some of the best summer nights I ever experienced as a child, and tonight is no different.
My shins are so hot they start to itch, but I don’t move. I’m too comfortable. I remember many years ago, Eli and I used to snuggle like this all the time. But through the years, I’ve allowed, and pushed for, more and more separation between us, and for that I am truly sorry. I gave up so much time when I could have been doing this.
Eli’s fingertips trail slowly up and down the outside of my arm, tickling from the bend of my shoulder to the ridge of my elbow and back up again. I squirm and he makes a noise from beneath me. “You okay?” I ask. I shift a bit, in case my weight is making him uncomfortable.