Jagger

 

 

 

Before Henrik and David left a few minutes ago, I apologized to David for pretending to be his physical therapist. He was disheartened but more so that I wouldn’t be there to teach him ninja moves. His disappointment only intensified my own. It was fun last week showing him moves I had learned over the years. Not only that, but my heart beat with a new challenge. I was invigorated when I left our session. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The rush I used to get at the climax of a large operation like bringing down a criminal organization or capturing a terrorist was better than any drug. Over the years I felt less and less satisfied, as if it wasn’t enough.

I was happy to keep this country safe, but growing increasingly unfulfilled with what I did for a living. Or was it what my job did to me?

She didn’t reach for them. Tiffany only stared at me.

“In Las Vegas. In the hotel bar where you were staying. I bought you a drink. Then came over to talk to you and Morgana.”

The sun was still high in the sky as it was mid-summer and the light reflected off her dark hair, turning some pieces golden.

Thoughts of how she tasted dotted my memories causing my tongue to reach for them. Tiffany was saying something but flickers of her naked body as she raced through the hotel room hiding her clothes kept blocking out her words.

“What?” I realized too late that Tiffany expected me to respond.

“I said, neither Morgana nor I remember that night. You were there last night. She doesn’t remember you.” She tilted her head, concern etched in her features.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Her chocolate eyes widened as she pushed to the edge of the couch, gripping the seat cushion. “Did you do that on purpose? Drug us so we wouldn’t remember you?”

I sat up straight. “No, of course not. I was only observing you. Well, I was supposed to only observe you but it ended up being more than that.”

Her nose flared, causing a slight indent in her chin. The blush that filled her face produced a question in my head that I would never give voice to—is that what she would look like if I climbed her body and sunk inside?

“Then how can neither of us remember you?” Tiffany asked after she took a breath, grabbing her braid and tossing it over her shoulder.

“Weren’t you two drinking before I came over?”

“No. The drink you bought me was the first one I had that night. And it wasn’t like I had an empty stomach. Morgana and I went to the buffet for dinner. I remember because we were going to go straight to the bar after but I told her I needed to check on Evaleen, who wasn’t feeling well at the time . . . Wait, I can’t believe I didn’t figure that out.” Tiffany smiled as she shook her head.

“Figure what out?”

“That Evaleen was pregnant. Of course, now I know because she just told me. That’s why she was sick in Vegas. I thought she had the flu. And Aria knew!” She smacked her hand on the table. “That’s why Aria told me when I was concerned I would catch whatever illness Evaleen had, that I already had it. But why would Evaleen tell Aria and not anyone else?”

I threw my hands in the air. “What are you even talking about? We started on how you and Morgana couldn’t remember me and ended up discussing Aria’s feelings on Evaleen’s pregnancy.”

“Not her feelings, but how she knew.” Tiffany pursed her lips.

“Whatever. Can we get back on topic?”

“Yes, what were we talking about?”

Taking a calming breath, I was thankful to be divorcing this woman. She may be beautiful and kind and—despite my reservations with her not letting her son do more—a good mother. But, I had a feeling if I spent any time with her I would end up going mad. I had even more respect for David now, having lived with this woman.

“About both you and Morgana not remembering me,” I said before rubbing my hands in irritation across my face.

“Right. I’m going to get something. Would you like some tea or candy?” She stood up and walked past the couch and into the kitchen.

I watched her from over my shoulder but turned completely around in amazement at what was in the cabinet.

“Wow, that’s a lot of candy. I guess your son likes the sweet stuff.” I stood, moving to the other side of the beige, granite island that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“Actually, most of this is mine. I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Especially when it comes to hard candy.”

“Did you buy out the candy aisle at the Jewel Osco?” I gazed in wonder as all four shelves were overflowing with various bags of candy. The two upper shelves had boxes of the stuff. She must have bought them online because I don’t think they sell bags of candy by the box at the grocery store.

“I have a subscription.” Tiffany frowned. “It’s called Candy Gram and I have the VIP subscription.”

“No wonder you stripped,” I said without thinking of the consequences of my words.

She dropped the green lollipop that was in her hand with a small thwack. Her face had lost all its color.

“I was a stripper in Las Vegas? Oh no. I must have been drugged. You have to believe me, I would never have done that otherwise.”

I came over and put my hands on her shoulders. “No, that came out wrong. You didn’t become a stripper. It was something that happened in the hotel room. You kept saying you needed a wedding ring and only a candy ring would do. I thought it strange but figured you had too much to drink.”

Due to her surprise and horror at thinking she stripped in front of strangers, I felt it best to leave out the part where she did strip for me.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Her head fell into her hand.

My thumbs rubbed circles around her shoulders to give her relief but I felt she might need more so I pulled her into an embrace. Tiffany melted into me as my arms circled her back. She was warm, soft, and it seemed right.

She felt amazing.

And her hair—it was soft and smelled as sweet as that lollipop. It was only natural when my hands slipped lower. Moving without thought or hesitation to the part of her back that dipped and then curved just before it separated into two plump cheeks. I shuddered with every twist of her body.

Tiffany pushed back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry. I got, uh, carried away.”

Leaning against the counter, I shoved my hands into my pockets to disguise the growing bulge in my jeans.

An awkwardness fell over the room like something sticky and thoroughly unwanted. She didn’t step away but her head turned in every direction that didn’t include me.

“You had sex with me,” she whispered. Her hands clasped in front of her and for a moment she was too delicate to touch. As if a brush of my finger across Tiffany’s shoulder would shatter her completely.

“No, we didn’t. I would never have done that with someone who was drunk,” I said.

That was a fact. I wanted to have sex with her. But as inebriated as I was, I had enough sense to keep her safe.

Her eyes peered up at me, wide but still uncertain. “But I woke up naked? In your hotel room. Wait. Was that your hotel room?”

Tiffany was shrinking again.

“Yes, that was my hotel room. I was in the shower when you left.” I paused and gathered the courage to explain what happened. “Maybe I will take that tea.”

My smile was weak but she nodded. I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. In a few minutes, she came over placing a dark blue mug with a red crab on it that said, Got Crabs, in front of me on the coffee table.

“Here’s some cream and sugar if you take that.” She sat on the other end of the couch and waved at the small white porcelain container of creamer, shaped like a pitcher, and a bowl holding loose sugar.

I took a sip of the bitter tea and decided to drink it straight.

“You were naked because you insisted on taking off all your clothes,” I said and took a second to gauge her reaction.

She had one leg folded, resting on the couch, while the other leg dangled over the edge. Her eyes weren’t looking at me, but at something in the distance.

“I know it doesn’t sound believable but it’s true. I would never take advantage of someone while they were drunk. Even if you didn’t have anything to drink before we met, you did afterward. At one point, I told the bartender to stop giving you anything.”

I chuckled and placed the mug on the table. “That’s when you got mad at me. You and Morgana stormed out of the hotel and I followed you to make sure you two were safe. We all walked for a while. That’s when you proposed to me. You told me you needed someone to help take care of your family.”

“Yes, and being drunk myself, I accepted. We found a church and I decided to use my father’s ring.” I pulled the long gold chain from around my neck that hid under my shirt. Dangling at the end was a thick gold ring. “He passed away a few years ago and left me this ring. I always have it on me so that’s what I used.”

Her hand fell as she stared at the it. “May I see the ring?”

I took it off and handed it to her. Tiffany was searching for something and when she found it, she shook her head. “I feel like a doodoo butt.”

“Morgana insisted you use her engagement ring but after we were married she took it back for fear that Henrik would be mad. But I promised to buy you that candy pop ring in the morning. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

We sat in silence for a minute before Tiffany picked up the divorce papers. She reached over to a side table and pulled out a small drawer, lifting a pen.

That was it. . I hesitated for a moment. Something in me wanted to shake my head. To take the pen away from her and stay married. Just for a little longer. To be normal for a few minutes more.

I quickly pushed that insane part of me away and pointed to the bottom of three different pages she had to sign.

“And initial here,” I said.

She did.

Sighing, I took the papers and forced a smile. We got up and she walked me to the door.

“Well, Tiffany, it was nice being married to you these past many weeks even if you didn’t know about it.” I chuckled.

She laughed as she leaned against the open door. “Yeah, I guess.”

I turned to leave but only made it two steps before she stopped me.

“How did my clothes in the hotel room end up in such odd places?”

Shit. I had to tell her.

I refused to turn and look at her as I spoke, “You took off each piece and hid them around the room. You said that if I found them you would give me a treat.”

“Where were you when this happened?” she asked, her voice soft but I heard her clearly.

“I was watching you.”