Kiss Me Again (3 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Andee was good at several things.
She was punctual, great with numbers, brilliant with organization, cheerful in the morning as well as late at night, could hold her drink, knew how to hook up a winch to a stuck truck, and was a loyal friend.

What she was not good at was waiting. Well, she was OK at waiting for most things like standing in line, watching her garden grow, and listening with endless patience to a long, drawn-out story. Where she really sucked at waiting was when there was a grand prize at the end of the wait. Like when her sister was going into labor, which she seemed to do every couple of years. That kind of waiting was hard.

Much like the waiting she was doing right now.

She ran her hands down the side of her shirt, feeling the way the new outfit highlighted her curves, and suppressed a giggle. It had been over six years since she'd had a shopping spree, and even then it had been to look for clothes that would work with the diner she and Lorelei were opening. This trip was all about wooing her man.

She pushed aside the curtain and strained to see if she could make out Buck's headlights coming up the drive, but all she saw was darkness. Pitch black nothing.

Seven days since their failed attempt to spice it up. One week and they'd had sex once. Well, she supposed she should give them credit. They had changed it up by doing it on the couch. That's what happened when people drank too many cocktails and watched a show about people having sex. But sex on the couch was much like sex in bed, with the exception that the space was smaller and the cuddling didn't last as long, due to the fact that it was virtually impossible to stay in a sandwiched position and actually breathe in nurturing amounts of oxygen.

It had been a stroke of genius to enlist the help of Melinda Bane, sexpot extraordinaire, to help her create a new look. The woman was gifted when it came to fitting clothes to body shapes and, let's be honest, with attracting men. If Andee could bottle just an ounce of Melinda's confidence or even her best friend, Lorelei's, she'd likely not be in this mess. She'd have nipped it in the bud early on.

But she hadn't, and now it was damage control time. Buck was going to walk in and find a new woman. A hot woman. His hot woman. Melinda had seen to that. His mouth was going to hit the floor and all thoughts of anything outside of her would evaporate from his brain. At least, she hoped he'd have a strong reaction. She needed him to have some reaction, or else her greatest fear, that Bucky was no longer attracted to her, would be actualized, and her father's over-simplification of human proclivities would apply--on some level--to everyone. Specifically to the person who meant the most to her.

She glanced at her watch; he should be home any minute. When he ran late, he always sent a text, at the very least, and there was no text waiting on her phone. An earlier text had said he'd had a crappy day at work and was stopping by the local sports bar for some wings and a few beers.

How would he react when he saw her? What would he think?

Andee walked away from the window, refusing to look in the mirror she passed, and into the kitchen to pour a glass of iced tea. What if she'd gone overboard? What if her new look was more what Melinda preferred and less what Buck did?

Not willing to muss her artfully applied, shiny pink lipstick, she decided to use a straw, which gave her an idea. If by some chance he didn't like her new look, and she could keep from falling apart, she could at least use the confidence it gave her. She spent the next three minutes practicing how to suck from the straw in a suggestive way, hoping Buck wouldn't be too dense to pick up on her hints. For the next few minutes, she tried out several poses, hoping to find one that look natural yet showed off her cleavage, but then she got distracted by the thick locks of her newly straightened hair She liked the way it fell around her shoulders all slick and glossy, a drastic change from her usual bouncy curls. She felt styled instead of windblown.

This must be what glamorous felt like.

Andee caught a glimpse of her silhouette from a shadow on the wall. Melinda had been right--she'd been in serious need of a proper bra, and the change in figure was remarkable. Her small waist, once lost in the oversized shirts she wore to accommodate her substantial chest, was now accented. Also, though her boobs were large, they didn't look overly huge--like Dolly Parton's--in her new fitted bra. They looked . . . good. She looked good. She looked curvy and fit and felt seductive and much like she imagined a temptress would feel.

If this was how Melinda felt every day then it was no wonder she attracted men like bees to honey. This feeling was heady, powerful, and addictive.

The flash of headlights pulled Andee from her thoughts and pushed her into motion.

Buck was home.

Nervous flutters filled her, and she pressed her hand to her stomach to settle them, but was unsuccessful. As if the flutters were transferred, Andee's hands began to shake as well. Having never settled on a pose, she quickly pressed her body up against the counter and then, for good measure, put the straw in her mouth.

She felt like an idiot.

Damn it! Why hadn't she researched ways to present herself? Her mind could only think of stupid poses she'd seen in magazines and posters. She quickly discarded them all, mainly because she didn't have a fainting chaise on which to recreate most of the poses she pictured and didn't want to be on the couch as that was what he would be expecting.

Giving up, she huffed, spit out the straw, and decided to greet him at the door. But halfway there, she changed her mind and turned to sit. Before she could lower herself into the overstuffed wingback, she changed her mind again, instead walking quickly to the kitchen, where she snatched up the mail and started sorting through it.

Buck came into the house with a bang, by both shoving open the door and slamming it shut right after. He stumbled before straightening back up and shuffling to her.

"Hey, babe," he slurred then attempted to kiss her cheek but missed and caught her jawline instead.

"Are you drunk?" The answer was obvious.

"I had a helluva day." He tossed his ball cap at the bar stool next to their island, missed, shrugged then stumbled the ten feet to his favorite recliner, where he fell, slumped into it, and then extended it out to the fullest.

"You had a bad day before or after you started drinking? Did you drive home?" Andee tossed the mail on the counter and picked up the ball cap. She placed it on the island's counter. A tight coil of disappointment mixed with apprehension had replaced her nervous butterflies.

So much for wowing his pants off.

"Nah, Cal drove me home. He followed me to the bar. Suck up." Buck rubbed his hands over his face, which made the last part come out muffled.

"What happened?" She sat on the arm of the couch and faced him.

"I got fired. My old man is a piece of work. You know that?"

Andee sighed. This was not the first time Buck's father had fired him. Usually they would disagree on a sales strategy. Conflicting opinions would lead to angry words and raised voices. Cal, Buck's brother and the quintessential yes man, would always take their dad's side, which inevitably inflated her father-in-law's ego to the point where he'd fire Buck. Usually by the end of the day, he'd call, demand an apology, and tell Buck to report back to work the following day. Who knew people could get so heated over tires and how to sell them?

"What happened this time?"

Buck's eyes were closed, but he raised his brows. "Cal told him we were looking into buying a vacation home. That we're a month out from beginning our search."

"And he fired you for that?" Andee leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.

"No. He fired me because he wants us to go in on a family vacation home. Something in Montana or somewhere where the guys can hunt." He opened his eyes and shifted in the chair to lift his hip up to pull folded papers out of his pocket. He handed them to her.

Red flashes of warning went off in Andee's head. Their vacation home and hunting were two things she'd been dead set against combining There was no point going away with Buck if all he was going to do was hunt. For Andee, relaxing with a man who'd spent long hours in the brush, smelled like animal urine, and didn't shower, was not the image of vacation she had in mind. It certainly wasn't a way to steam up their sex life, either.

After unfolding the papers, she eyed the printouts. "What in the name of all that is good and holy is this?" She held up a picture of a cabin. Well, the word cabin was being generous. Maybe lean-to was more appropriate. "Or this?" Another shanty. "A vacation home in Idaho, Montana, or Wyoming? Are their deer really that much different?" She shuffled through the pages. Before her brain further exploded into a thousand bright and angry pieces, Andee wanted to make sure she had all the facts.

"Dad wants to hunt bigger game. Elk, moose, maybe even bear."

"What happened to the whole 'eat what you hunt' philosophy? When did your family start eating bears?"

"I dunno, Andee. It's stupid, and I said so. I told him no. That you wouldn't be interested in a cabin--"

"Are you interested in a cabin instead of a vacation home?" She stood up, flinging the papers onto the couch.

"What I'm interested in has no bearing in this conversation." He squinted at her before breaking into a laugh. "No pun intended."

"What the hell does that mean?" Andee planted her hands on her hips.

Suddenly, Buck looked at her. His eyes narrowed, or tried to, as much as they could in his current state. "What's different about you? Did you get stuck in the rain? Your hair looks like you just got out of the shower but . . . not." Buck hiccupped and tried to sit further back in the recliner. As if distance would help his vision and perception.

"No. I did
not
get stuck in the rain. I straightened my hair and had it colored. Look, no more gray." She leaned over him to show him her roots, the touch of gray hidden beneath streaks of chestnut and caramel.

"I can't see past your boobs." He leered. "The twins look good. But I'm not crazy about your hair like that. I like it all fluffy, like a big ball of out-of-control yarn. That's your hair. It's glorious."

"My hair reminds you of yarn?"

Buck tried to sit up but gravity was too much. Instead, he pointed to her shirt. "What's that on the side of your shirt? Come here. Let me touch it."

Andee hesitated, questioning her ethics. Could she seduce him? If he rubbed her shirt, would his hand move upward? Should she stop him or see what happened? He was drunk, after all. There was no telling how the rest of the night was going to turn out. Shrugging, she stepped toward him and turned so the side of her shirt was closest to him, as was her right breast.

Buck rubbed the leather panel that joined the front and back of her shirt. The panels pulled the fabric in and helped accentuate her figure. Buck scratched the leather with his nails.

"What's this? It looks like the underbelly of a dragon," he said and followed it up with a belch.

"You're disgusting."

"You're disgusting. Hurting poor, harmless dragons to make a shirt. I bet they're on the endangered species list." He laughed, clearly more impressed with his joke than she was.

Andee tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. Tears pressed against her eyes, begging to be free. This night had not gone even a fraction as she'd imagined, unless she counted the one comment he'd made about her boobs.

"Oh hey, guess what I found out?" Buck said with a snap of his fingers, only his snap was weak and quiet. His attention was drawn to his fingers as he tried to make his snap louder.

Andee clapped her hands together in a loud boom. Buck's head snapped up, his attention on her.

"You were saying?"

"I was?"

"You were saying you found something out today."

"Oh yeah. Guess who's getting divorced?" His expression was smug; he knew he was beating her to the scoop.

Andee was suddenly very interested. "Who?"

"Kevin and Lisa Norman."

Andee froze, panic wrapping a cold hand around her as she struggled to grasp what Buck said, but could only focus on one thing--Kevin and Lisa's relationship was nearly identical to hers and Buck's. The guys had graduated together just like the girls had, and they'd been together just as long. They never seemed to fight, were always laughing and hugging. Was it Lisa's need to always sport some new jewel or that she lived at the gym? Was it Kevin's receding hairline? Andee covered her mouth. They had three children, and she couldn't help but think of them. No one had ever expected them to split up. Ever.

"Are you kidding me? What happened?"

Buck shrugged. "I heard he has a little honey on the side."

Andee pressed her hand to her heart and took in a shallow breath, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Kevin and Lisa were at the ten-year marriage mark as well.

Fear rippled through her as she tried to think about life without Buck. It was impossible to imagine, as they'd been together for half her life. She didn't know any other man. She didn't want to.

"Bucky," she said. "Come to bed."

But he was already asleep, soft snores coming from his open mouth. Andee covered him with an afghan his mother had made them and walked slowly around her house, turning out the lights, and touching items they'd collected over the years. Mementos from vacations together, memories attached to each piece, but her mind was on the Normans and trying to not compare how much they had in common with her and Buck.

In their room, she washed her face without seeing her reflection in the mirror before her, instead focused on what was in the past. Snippets of their life that might have contributed to the crappy state their marriage was currently in. The rift between them looked small, innocuous, but she was quite certain if she peered over the edge, she'd find the depth greater than she'd thought. There was more going on here. Buck getting fired and drunk? That wasn't him. Fired happened at least twice a year and was inevitable with a misanthropic asshole like his father for a boss.