Brett

 

“He isn’t going to want honeycomb ice cream, Grace. He barely touched his breakfast this morning.” I was trying not to smile as I said it, but she was making it impossible.

Her efforts to please the sack of shit who’d come smashing through our life were sweet enough to tickle me deep, though they fucking shouldn’t. They should’ve been enough to set my blood boiling and kick that sonofabitch out on his posh boy ass.

“He will,” she insisted, digging in the fridge for the honey topping.

I folded my arms as I watched her, leaning in the doorway as my cock twitched at the sight. Her pretty ass tight in jeans, her thighs straining as she reached a high shelf.

“This is why we need a chef,” she told me. “They’d make a much more impressive sundae than I ever will.”

“We should run them through the task at the next interview. Fuck lobster and crayfish, show us your ice cream skills.”

“Joke all you like,” she said. “Dessert is everything.”

I shook my head and turned away, staring back out at the empty dining room and trying to imagine it filled to bursting one day. Ice cream wouldn’t bring the crowds, but a decent menu really might. I was being convinced, slowly but surely. Enough to consider opening up our vacancy to potential live-in staff, should we need to.

But that wasn’t for today.

Today was about Heath and ice cream and this naively cute little mission Grace was on to warm up his cold blood.

“Heard back from Sarah?” I called over my shoulder.

“Not yet. Soon, hopefully.”

I checked my watch. Lunch had been and gone, and in theory so had the donut run back in Gloucestershire.

“You really think Polly Piper knows a man like Heath?”

She approached with an arm full of ridiculous ice cream toppings. “So social media claims.”

“Claimed.”

“I hardly think it can have been that much of a mistake,” she insisted. “It was bold as brass, you saw it too.”

I still found it hard to imagine. I found it hard to imagine anyone being friends with that cunt, let alone some small town bakery girl from back at our school.

What I was able to imagine was watching him drive my Grace wild all over again. Teamwork came in the most unlikely of places sometimes, I’d learned that well enough on the sports field, but its results this time around were worth the uneasy truce. I’d shake his hand in a heartbeat for the sake of watching my wife lose her shit between us just once more this week.

The memories would last a lifetime.

She assembled the array of toppings on the breakfast counter and dug out some sundae bowls from underneath.

“Do you think he likes honeycomb?”

“I think he likes you,” I told her, and the flash of a smile on her face told me she appreciated the compliment. “I’m sure you could feed him honeycomb sundae from your pussy if he refuses it with a spoon.”

“Too cold.” Her giggle was divine. “I’ll consider it as a last resort. Maybe it will dull yesterday’s ache as a side benefit.”

She stepped back to view her display, nodding to herself that she was onto a good thing with the arrangement. It was sweet enough to burst.

My beautiful wife squeaked as I stormed up behind her and swept her off her feet. Her legs dangled loose, her laughter ringing out as I swayed her from side to side and landed a kiss on the first sliver of bare neck I could find under her hair.

“I’ll eat your dessert,” I said. “All night long, every night of the week, forever more.”

She spun to face me as soon as I dropped her to her feet, and her eyes were warm enough to melt my guts to a puddle.

“Not when we have little Fosters running around the place, you won’t,” she said. “We’ll be exhausted.”

I couldn’t hide the shock at her line of conversation, and she nodded silently as I tipped my head.

“Soon,” she continued. “Here if we can save the place, or back home if we can’t. I don’t care, Brett, just as long as we’re together.”

Her easiness perplexed me. The idea of losing this place so alien I couldn’t stomach it.

“We’ll save it,” I told her, but she shrugged.

“I hope so, but it’s not everything. We’re everything, you and me. Anything else on top is a bonus.”

This wasn’t her. Not the woman I’d seen destroying herself over the potential loss these past few months. Her stance was calm and easy, eyes twinkling as they stared up at mine.

It was me who felt the twist of failure. Me who shook my head and gritted my teeth and jabbed a finger toward reception.

“We’ll do it,” I insisted. “You and me. This is our place. Our legacy.”

“Or your dad’s,” she whispered, softening the blow with a brush of her fingertips down my cheek. “This place was my choice, Brett, but it was his money. I wonder sometimes whether your drive to save this place is more about us or him.”

“That’s absurd,” I snapped, but it was with too much venom.

Her eyes said it all. Her words didn’t need to.

“Heath brought more into our lives than fifty grand in the bank,” she whispered. “He brought a whole pile of shitty insight along with him. I’ve been wondering if that’s actually been worth more than the money.”

“Insight into how not to be a total cunt all your life.”

Her smirk was the opposite of the one he wore on his face every fucking opportunity, it was humble and kind. Everything I’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Insight into the important things,” she countered. “Insight into how lucky we are to have the essentials. I’d never swap our love for his lifestyle. I don’t think he’d be able to say the same.”

“So, what now? You want to friend the guy? Get him coming down here for weekend breaks and ice cream sundaes? Maybe he can watch the kids while I slam the hell out of your sweet pussy in the room next door?”

She laughed, and so did I.

“Maybe.”

“You’re crazy,” I told her, and I meant it in the very best of ways. “Last week he wanted to destroy us. This week you want him to turn into a childminder.”

“My horizons are broadening,” she whispered. “Like the other parts of me.”

“And how about this evening? Do you think you’ll be up to broadening them all over again?”

A wink and another smirk, and if she’d have asked for my heart on a steel platter right then I’d have carved it out gladly.

“Ice cream first,” she said. “And then we’ll see.”