Mickie
“I’m sooo hungry, Mom!” Leo whined from his seat beside Mason.
I shot him the “mom” look. “You just ate a hotdog, fries, and peanuts,” I said. “You don’t need any more food.”
“But I want—”
“Don’t talk back to your mother,” Dawson cut him off, using his “dad” voice.
Leo slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Thus, beginning the pouting session that would last for at least ten minutes before he got distracted by something else. Or as soon as Gabby started teasing him about it.
Dawson met my eyes and winked.
Together, the “mom” look and “dad” voice were an unbeatable combination.
The four of us—along with Mason, Sage, and Parker’s girlfriend, Kinley—were all at the Baltimore Orioles v. Boston Red Sox baseball game, watching Parker play third base for the Red Sox. It was a hot Saturday afternoon, but thank heavens the sun was starting to go down. It was the fifth inning, and the Red Sox were beating the Orioles by three runs.
Parker had been stellar, as always.
Sage was sitting beside me—we had become pretty good friends since she’d started dating Mason—and something on her wrist caught my attention. “Is that a new tattoo?” I asked, grabbing for her wrist.
“Yeah,” she muttered, not sounding all that thrilled about it.
They were small letters, but big enough to discern what they were.
I raised an eyebrow. “‘I♥MAC’?”
She nodded.
“What’s MAC stand for?”
She sighed. “Mason Arturo Cruz. I lost a bet.”
Mason burst into laughter from the other side of her, which resulted in her smacking him.
I smiled and shook my head. “I don’t know how you can stand being under the needle that long.” The woman had tattoos all up and down her arms and legs. “I almost passed out the one time I ever did it.”
Her head whipped back around. “You have a tattoo?”
Dawson stilled next to me, obviously listening to our conversation. I could feel the heat from his arm that was resting on the back of my seat.
I swallowed. “Um, yeah. On my shoulder blade. It was a drunken decision a million years ago.” Please don’t ask me what it is.
Even though I loved it.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t corny as hell.
Sage laughed. “Yeah, I have a few of those. Bad tequila makes for stupid choices. Unfortunately, I’m reminded of a lot of mine every time I look in a mirror.”
Dawson’s hand was lightly rubbing my shoulder, before his fingers dipped beneath the strap of my tank top. He ran them over the skin on my shoulder blade—right over my tattoo. He was caressing it, as if recalling the memories from that night.
“It was actually a pretty great day,” I said, and looked up to see him already watching me.
I could tell my words had affected him when his pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring.
We still hadn’t been able to finish what we’d started on the couch the other night. The night we’d both been positively ravenous for each other. I’d thought about that little bump and grind only every five minutes for the last three days. We hadn’t had action that steamy in…a while.
Kinley asked Sage something, distracting her from our tattoo conversation, giving me the opportunity to stare into my husband’s eyes. He was looking at me as if my eyes contained the secrets of the universe.
It was exactly how he’d looked at me when we first met.
“I think about that day all the time,” he murmured so that only I could hear him.
“Really?” I asked, surprised by the admission. “You do?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. And the concert when we met. And our first date.”
“Of course, I remember that.” Our ziplining first date was still one of the best days of my life. I grinned. “You about fainted on me when you realized how high up we were.”
I had to bite back my laughter when he scoffed. “I didn’t almost faint,” he said. “I was…concerned for your safety, that’s all.”
I pursed my lips. He still wasn’t a huge fan of heights. “Right. I mistook your gallantry for anxiety. My apologies.”
He glared, and I let out an unladylike squeak when he reached over and pinched my leg.
I sobered. “I didn’t think you remembered all that.”
He shot me a look of disbelief. “I remember everything, Mick. How could I not? Meeting you was a turning point in my life. Hell, I don’t even remember what my life was like before I met you.”
I smiled, and a thought occurred to me. “I wonder whatever happened with that movie. You know, the one you starred in?”
He tipped his head back and groaned. “Oh, God. Hopefully, the studio shut it down during post-production.”
My smile turned sly. “Nonsense. You gave the performance of a lifetime. They wouldn’t have hidden that away from the world. I’m going to look for it.”
Another groan. “Please don’t.”
I ignored that. “Oh, it’s happening, Cruz. Consider it my new mission in life.” I patted his leg when I saw his expression take on a surly quality. “Don’t pout. Chances are I won’t find it. I don’t even know the name of it.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
I chuckled and returned my attention to the game. For the rest of the afternoon I reminisced over memories of the first few months of our relationship. How exciting every day with him had been. How I never knew what he was going to do or say next. How giddy I’d been every time he’d pulled up in his truck to collect me.
How innocent and naïve I’d been, in so many ways.
But also how he had never pressured me, not once, to do anything I wasn’t ready for. Even though, looking back on it, I knew it must have killed him. After all, he hadn’t been the blushing virgin back then. It felt sort of strange to think that Dawson was the only man I’d ever slept with. Strange, yet it also felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Only one man.
But I didn’t have any regrets. Not a single one.
And that made me pause.
If things had gone so well for us in the beginning without sex, who’s to say it couldn’t happen the same way this time? I mean, we already knew each other at this point, and we’d already had sex in pretty much every way imaginable. But since we were, more or less, building our relationship back up, it would stand to reason that eliminating sex from the equation could be a good idea.
Though my…urges didn’t agree.
I had a feeling that Dawson wouldn’t be so crazy about it, either.
But sex had never been our problem. Sure, lately it could have used a bit more spice. But it wasn’t something we’d had to work on from the beginning.
Communication, on the other hand, had always been worthy of improvement. And if denying ourselves sex forced us to focus more on opening up and talking, which could ultimately save our marriage, then I would deny myself pleasure for however long it took.
In my heart, I felt this was the right course of action.
Now, I just had to break the news to Dawson.
He was going to be so pissed.