Your Bed or Mine? (18 page)

She was tired of scurrying away like a scared mouse.

Tonight, Rick was
not
going to force her to retreat to her bedroom. Nor was he going to force her out of her own house. She was going to sit right
there in her own kitchen and ignore him completely. Let
him
find some place to go if he wanted to avoid seeing her I’m-not-giving-in face!

Zada had just headed for the kitchen to stake out a claim at the kitchen table when the telephone rang.

“Bombshell alert,” Tish said the second she answered.

“Excuse me?”

“Alicia!” Tish exclaimed. “Hurry. Go to your front window.”

Zada hurried through the house, phone to her ear.

Spit!

Skintight jeans! Low-cut top! A sexy take-me-anytime look on her face!

Maybe I will start a Bimbo Elimination Club!

Alicia really
was
a bimbo if she thought she was going to get away with seducing Rick!

Zada said, “Why that rich, conniving …”

“Bitch,” Tish finished for her. “And just when we’d convinced ourselves Alicia was backing off because we hadn’t heard a peep
out of her all week.”

“What a piece of work,” Zada said. “She practically has her ass in Rick’s face bending over like that.”

Tish said, “And how convenient that she didn’t realize her tire was flat until she backed out into the street.”

Zada snorted. “I guarantee you she punched a hole in that tire the second she saw Rick pull into the driveway.”

“No doubt about it,” Tish agreed. “I was on the front porch when she came prancing across the street and waylaid Rick at your
mailbox. Has the woman never heard of the Triple-A Club?”

“Why bother,” Zada said, “when you can get the idiot across the street to change the tire for you?”

Tish said, “Surely Rick can see she’s openly coming on to him.”

“Right now Rick can’t see anything,” Zada said. “Alicia has both of her double D breasts shoved in his face.”

“Well, do something!” Tish ordered.

“What can I do?” Zada wailed.

“Stomp out there and invite her to our meeting tomorrow night,” Tish said.

“Jen would kill me!”

Tish said, “A guy can only take so much, Zada. We’ve already tortured him with our fantasies last weekend. And you’ve made
it clear you aren’t having sex with him. Could you really blame a guy who hadn’t had sex in six months if he …”

Zada cut her off. “Don’t even say it. You know that’s the one thing that would make me walk out the door.”

“Then do something!” Tish ordered again. “Alicia’s already used the ass pass and the bust thrust. Get out there, Zada. Now!”

“I don’t mind changing your tire, Alicia,” Rick said. “But I thought I’d made myself clear that I wasn’t going to get involved
in whatever’s going on between you and Zada.”

Alicia was only half listening. She was too busy glancing at Rick’s front window, gloating over the fact that Zada was watching.

“Did you hear me, Alicia?”

“Yes,” Alicia said, looking down at him with a flirty smile for Zada’s benefit. “You made it crystal clear you had no intention
of trying to make Zada jealous.”

“I mean it, Alicia,” Rick warned. “No more stunts.” He walked behind her Mercedes to open the trunk.

Alicia looked back at the window.

Dammit!

Zada was gone.

She’d truly hoped all it would take was one more nudge and Zada would give in. Especially since Rick wasn’t an easy guy to
track down. She’d watched for him all week, but he’d come home after dark every night.

She could have easily gone over and asked him to fix her tire anyway, but it wouldn’t have had the same effect. She’d wanted
Rick to fix her flat tire in broad daylight. Wanted Zada to watch as she came on to Rick. Wanted those brown eyes of Zada’s
to turn grass green with jealously.

She’d obviously misjudged Zada. Maybe Zada was a better adversary than she realized.

And dang it! It’s already Friday.

That meant another week without an invitation.

Another week of scheming and planning.

Another week of exile in suburbia.

“Alicia, can you help me a minute?”

She glanced over at Rick. He was now squatted down by her left rear tire. “Sure,” she said.

Alicia didn’t even try to stand too close to Rick when he held out the lug nuts he wanted her to hold. What was the point
if Zada wasn’t watching?

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” Rick said, looking past her and shaking his head.

Alicia looked over her shoulder.

Zada.

Stomping toward them.

Both fists clenched.

Alicia turned around, ready for battle.

She folded her arms across her chest.

Zada ignored Rick completely when she walked up, and looked directly at Alicia.

“Alicia,” she said in a voice sweet as honey, “we’d like to invite you to our Fantasy Club meeting tomorrow night.”

In a voice
sweeter
than honey, Alicia said, “Tomorrow night? Sorry, I’ll have to check my calendar first, Zada. Why don’t I call you later and
let you know if I can make it?” There was absolutely no doubt in Alicia’s mind.

If Rick hadn’t been there, Zada would have slapped her!

After the encounter with Alicia, Zada did retreat to her bedroom to avoid Rick, even though she vowed that she wouldn’t. She
knew if she didn’t, she’d punch Rick square in the nose.

Just who did he think he was?

Taking walks with Alicia.

Fixing tires for Alicia.

Next, he’d be moving in with Alicia!

Like Tish said, six months without sex was a long time. Plus, Alicia wasn’t your run-of-the-mill adversary. No woman in her
right mind would stand beside Alicia Greene and ask a guy to choose between them.

Zada had finally become so frustrated, she’d gone to bed. She was lost somewhere in a fitful tired-of-the-whole-situation
slumber, when the dog that obviously
wasn’t
tired scratched at her bedroom door.

Zada forced one eye open.

The loud bark forced her out of bed.

When Zada opened her bedroom door, Rick was stumbling down the hall in her direction, wearing nothing but a sleepy frown.

In a nanosecond, Zada went from groggy to wide awake. Awake enough to make a very important mental note:
The night-light in the hallway has to go!

“Sorry,” Rick said with a yawn. “I thought Simon wanted to go out.”

Zada quickly averted her gaze back to the dog. Simon ambled past her and jumped up on her bed. Zada slammed the door on temptation,
and went back to bed.

Fifteen minutes later, she had just drifted off to sleep again, when the scratching at the door started all over again.

“Simon!” Zada scolded. “If you want to go out. Go out!”

Zada jerked the covers back and walked to the door. Simon trotted past her into the hallway. But he didn’t go downstairs to
his doggie door in the kitchen as Zada expected. Instead, Simon made a beeline down the hallway, heading straight back to
Rick’s closed bedroom door.

Two barks later, Rick was standing in the doorway.

Still naked.

Still looking sleepy.

Still driving her slowly insane.

He yawned. “What’s going on now?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Zada snipped. “Your big idea of taking turns keeping Simon at night has him all confused.”

“Whatever,” Rick said, yawning again. “You leave your door open. I’ll do the same. Then Simon can go back and forth until
he wears himself out.”

Back to bed.

Almost back to sleep.

Bark. Bark. Bark.

Bark. Bark. Bark.

Zada let out a loud groan.

She put a pillow over her head to drown out the noise.

Rick dragged himself out of bed and reached for his boxer shorts that he’d folded neatly and left at the foot of his bed as
usual. Seconds later, he was stumbling down the hallway, his pillow and the comforter from the bed under his arm.

Zada sat up in bed when he entered the room.

Simon trotted into the room behind him.

“Simon isn’t going to be satisfied until we’re all three sleeping in the same room,” Rick told her. “Go back to sleep. I’ll
sleep on the floor.”

He spread the comforter out and threw his pillow down.

“Absolutely not!” Zada said.

“Why?” Rick challenged. “You were over me by the time I backed down the driveway. Remember?”

Rick lay down on the floor.

Simon lay down beside him.

Rick closed his eyes.

Be strong. Be strong. Be strong.

Don’t dwell on Zada being only king-size inches away.

Wearing nothing but one of her flimsy teddies.

Ignore the intoxicating smell of her perfume.

Forget about taking her in your arms . . .

Geez!

Just go to sleep, dammit!

Look at the clock.

12:06
AM
.

Close your eyes.

Look at the clock.

12:10
AM
.

Close your eyes.

Look at the clock.

12:25
AM
.

Zada sat up and crawled to the foot of the bed.

The moonlight streaming through the large bay window gave her a perfect view of exactly what was keeping her awake.

She stared at the back of Rick’s head.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” he told her.

But he rolled over on the floor to face her.

“This isn’t working for me,” Zada said.

“Maybe you should try counting sheep,” he suggested.

“I did that already,” Zada said.

Until they stopped jumping fences and started getting frisky with each other.

But she wasn’t going to tell him that!

“I’ve been thinking,” Zada said.

“That always scares me,” Rick mumbled.

Zada ignored him and said, “You were right when you said we didn’t have any challenge options left, short of blowing up the
house. What would you say to joint custody of Simon and the house?”

Rick sat up.

“Joint custody?”

“Yes,” Zada said. “You live in the house with Simon six months. I live in the house with Simon six months. And instead of
buying me a condo, we’ll buy us a condo. A place for each of us to stay when we’re not living in the house with Simon.”

“No,” Rick said flatly.

He lay back down and turned his back to her again.

“No!” Zada yelled. “That’s all you’re going to say? Just ‘no’?”

“No,” Rick repeated and pulled the comforter over his head.

Zada scrambled on her hands and knees back to the head of the bed and switched on her bedside light.

“Would you just go to sleep, Zada?” Rick groaned from the floor. “I have to be at the center early in the morning.”

“You’re off tomorrow. It’s Saturday.”

“I never take weekends off during training sessions,” Rick said. “And I’m surprised you forgot that. You used to bitch about
it enough before we separated.”

Zada ignored that remark and said, “No! I will not go to sleep. Not until you tell me why you instantly vetoed my joint custody
idea.”

Rick sat up and jerked back the comforter.

“The way I see it, Zada,” he said with a frown, “we either stay together, or we get a divorce and make a clean break.”

“Hell-o!” Zada said. “We aren’t capable of living together. That’s why we’re getting a divorce. And that’s why my idea is
perfect. We get the divorce
and
we take turns living in the house with Simon.”

Rick looked at her and shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “But I want kids someday, Zada.”

Whap!

His words hit her right between the eyes.

Zada seriously thought she might pass out from the pain of imagining Rick having kids with anyone but her.

“You never told me you wanted kids,” Zada said.

“Don’t you want kids?” Rick asked.

“Yes,” Zada said. “I want a whole house full.”

“Well, there you go,” Rick said. “That’s why your joint custody idea isn’t going to work. What would we do with our families?
Move them back and forth every six months? I don’t think so.”

Zada was too rattled to answer.

She reached over and turned off the bedside light.

Rick returned to his makeshift pallet on the floor.

And not a moment too soon.

She’d be damned if she let him see her cry.

But Rick with a wife, kids, and not in my life?

God, I really have been shallow.

Had forgiving her mother and sister changed her some-how? Is that why she was able to finally admit, that no matter how crazy
he made her, she still couldn’t bear the thought of Rick not being in her life?

She loved him.

She’d loved him from the second she saw him.

She’d love him till she drew her last breath.

Stay together or make a clean break.

Did that mean Rick was still open to them staying together?

Was he willing to learn to compromise?

Even make an effort to overlook each other’s flaws?

Did she dare even ask?

No.

I’d be beyond devastated if Rick said it was too late.

Better to leave things as they were.

Until one of them gave up and moved out.

And at the rate they were going?

That person will most likely be me!

Rick pretended to be asleep, but his eyes were wide open.

Maybe for the first time in his life.

He hadn’t missed the hurt look on Zada’s face when he’d mentioned kids and families. Did he dare hope she looked so hurt because
deep down she hadn’t given up on them yet?

He was tempted to sit up and ask her.

Just blurt it out.

Ask her point-blank:
Do you really want a divorce?

But if she said yes, they had nowhere to go from there, except back to their squabble over the house and Simon. Maybe he should
just give in and let her have Simon and the house. Put them both out of their misery. Zada was obviously getting as tired
of the game-playing as he was, or she wouldn’t have approached him with her joint custody idea.