Getting sexy

Chapter Eight
Annelise

As I sit at the desk in my office, I stare at the wall clock, watching the second hand tick by. It’s five minutes after four, and I’m starting to feel like my next appointment isn’t coming. I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s been that kind of day. Two other appointments were no-shows. Potential wedding gigs. The most lucrative of the work I do.

“I can’t make a living like this,” I mutter.

Maybe I need to be doing more advertising. This year, my income has been taking a steady nosedive. The one saving grace is that I’m doing Claudia’s wedding, and her father is paying for a package that’s over ten thousand dollars.

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

The door chimes sing, startling me out of my boredom. Pushing my chair backward, I jump to my feet and force a smile on my face.

In walk a young man and woman, both dark-haired, holding hands and smiling from ear to ear. They can’t be older than twenty-one, twenty-two.

“You must be…” My voice trails off as another man, a Greek God, really, enters behind them. His eyes meet mine, and I feel a zap of raw, sexual desire. It overwhelms me. Leaves me momentarily speechless.

“Sebastian and Helen,” the first man says, moving toward me with his hand outstretched.

I step out from behind my desk. “Right.” I pump the man’s hand, then the woman’s. “So good to meet you both.”

My eyes wander to the man who suddenly has me remembering just how much of a woman I am. A woman with sexual needs not being met.

Earlier, Charles didn’t even notice me in the tight leather pants I bought on Samera’s advice. But this sexy stranger is noticing. And I tell you, it feels amazing.

I offer him a small smile as I say, “If you don’t mind giving me a second to deal with this happy couple—”

“Actually, I’m with the happy couple.”

“Oh.” A nervous laugh escapes me. “I see.”

“My older brother, Dominic,” Sebastian informs me. “He wanted to tag along.”

“No problem.” I glance quickly at Dominic again, and a slow breath oozes out of me when I see that he’s staring at me.

He looks sort of familiar, but from where?

I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing when I slip my left hand behind my back. No, that’s not true. I definitely know what I’m doing. I’m hiding my wedding ring. What I’m not sure of is why.

I clear my throat. “Please. Sit down.”

Sebastian and Helen don’t let go of each other, even as they sit side by side on separate chairs. Dominic stands, perusing the photos on the wall.

“When are you getting married?” I ask Sebastian and Helen.

“September twenty-third.”

I sit behind my desk and jot that information down. Then I go into describing the various packages I offer, starting with the least expensive. “All of the packages are detailed in this brochure,” I add when I’m finished, handing them a glossy full-color brochure that cost a small fortune to produce. “But don’t feel that these are set in stone. I’m willing to tailor a package specifically to your needs. You can use this as a guide and tell me what changes you’d like to make, if any.”

“You do all these photos?” Dominic asks, glancing at me over his shoulder.

Damn, he’s got a nice ass. Honestly, I can’t remember seeing a butt that looked so cute in a pair of Levi’s.

“Yes,” I answer. “I took all the photos.”

“I love this one,” Dominic goes on, fingering the silver frame of a black-and-white photo of a naked and sleeping baby.

“That’s one of my favorites,” I tell him, pleased.

A quick look at Sebastian and Helen and I see that they’re still evaluating the various packages. So my gaze wanders back to Dominic. He grins at me.

Now I know I’m desperate, because that simple and sexy grin has my vulva pulsing. I’m actually shocked. I don’t ever remember feeling this kind of immediate carnal attraction even in the early days with Charles.

And yes, he does look familiar. Where have I seen him before?

For the sake of my sanity, I have to look away from him. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as I face the young couple once again. “Do you have any questions?”

Helen shakes her head. “Not really. Obviously, you’ll do both black and white and color.”

“If you like.”

“Oh, I know,” Helen quickly says. “How much of a down payment do you need?”

“Depending on the package you choose—and you can change your mind anytime before the big day—I ask for twenty percent up front.”

I watch Sebastian’s and Helen’s faces for a reaction. Helen worries her bottom lip.

“Or you can give me ten percent when you secure the booking, if it’s easier, and the final ten percent thirty days before the wedding. Just let me know.” I pause. I hate when the couple isn’t saying much. I always feel as if I’ve lost them.

But, the last thing I want to do is pressure anyone. I don’t believe in the hard sell, though Charles says I should. He tells me all the time that I’d make more money if I were a bit tougher.

But that’s not me. “Take your time,” I tell Helen and Sebastian. “Look around the studio if you want. I have sample albums you can go through, as well. No pressure.”

“We’ll take a look around, but we already know we want you,” Helen says. “We’ve heard such great things about your work. And the photos you have displayed speak for themselves.”

Yes! But I keep my cool and say calmly, “Why, thank you.”

“We can’t leave a deposit right now, though,” she continues. “We’d like to figure out the package we’ll go with, then come back and leave a deposit.”

This is the point where some photographers get aggressive to try to secure the deal, by insisting that a client at least leave some money down. But I hate to scare anyone away, even though I know I might never see them again.

So I say, “Whenever’s convenient. Just give me a call.”

“Thanks so much,” Sebastian says. “It’ll be later this week, or early next week, when we can bring the deposit.”

“There’s always the chance that someone else might come in wanting me for the same date, so for now, I’ll mark your wedding date down. I’ll see you by next week?”

“Yes,” Helen answers.

“I look forward to it. And congrats on your nuptials.” Sebastian and Helen get up and start for the door. I get up, too. Dominic, who’s still checking out my pictures, doesn’t even realize that his brother is ready to leave.

“Yo, Dom,” Sebastian calls out.

Dominic whirls around. “You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s like an invisible bat hits me hard when Dominic looks at me again. I can’t help wondering why he bothered to tag along with his brother for this visit.

“Did you have any questions?” I ask him. There’s a part of me—a big part—that doesn’t want him to leave yet.

He shakes his head. “None.”

“Okay.” So he’s Mr. Mysterious.

“I think Dom is bored and needs to get a life,” Sebastian tells me. He turns to Dom. “When was the last time you were on a date?”

So he’s single…

And you’re married. Don’t even let yourself go there.

Despite what I tell myself, I do my best to hide my ring as I see them all to the door. I know nothing will come of this, but at least I have someone to think about when I masturbate. Thinking about Charles usually doesn’t work for me anymore, because it’s hard to get off fantasizing about someone who doesn’t fucking want you.

Sebastian and Helen are unable to let go of each other, as if the very act of releasing hands for even a moment would be physically painful. I watch them, feeling a lump form in my throat as I reminisce about my courtship with Charles, how he was the same way, always touching me, always giving me soft kisses on the cheek.

Always letting me know I was loved.

I can’t stand thinking of Charles right now, so I let my gaze wander over Dominic’s tall, muscular frame.

He’s almost out the door when he turns back to smile at me. I smile, too, and wave.

And then he’s gone. The door clicks shut.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I whirl around, close my eyes. Dominic and I barely spoke, yet the way he looked at me has left me feeling like his hands have caressed every inch of my body. My vagina is still pulsing, and my panties are wet.

Is this what Samera meant when she said that dressing sexy makes you feel more sexually alive? If so, then I’m amazed.

The sound of door chimes has me whipping around. There he is again, smiling that charming smile that makes me so hot.

I swallow. “Hi. Did you forget something?”

Dominic walks the few steps toward me. “Actually, I realized I couldn’t leave until I came back in to ask you something.”

My heart slams against my rib cage. What could he possibly want to ask me? Something personal? Of course he won’t ask something personal. He’s thought of something he didn’t ask about my services.

“I knew you’d think of something,” I joke.

He withdraws his wallet, takes out a card. He extends his hand, like he’s going to pass it to me, but instead asks, “Do you have a pen?”

“Yes.” I head to my desk, aware that my walk is different. Sexier. Liberated.

Even the way I stretch forward to reach for the pen, lifting one foot that’s in a cute sling-back as opposed to a comfortable flat shoe, is deliberately orchestrated to tease.

Really, what am I doing here?

I pass Dominic the pen.

“This is my card,” he tells me as he scribbles something on the back. “My office and cell numbers are on the front. And on the back is my home number.”

I scan the card as he passes it to me. “You’re an architect.”

“Yep.”

“Impressive.” Even more impressive, he’s given me every possible way to reach him.

“It’s all right. I work for myself. Have an office at my home. I’m not part of some big architectural firm. That way, I can set my own pace and do the projects I want.”

“I completely get you on that one.”

There’s a glint in his eye, one I haven’t seen in a long time but recognize immediately. It’s hunger. Lust. Lust for me.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

I knew he looked familiar. “Should I? Have we met before?”

“Well, kind of. A couple of weeks ago. In a store not too far from here.” He chuckles softly. “A Little Naughty?”

Oh my God, I could die! The hottie when I was checking out. My face flames.

“No, no,” Dominic quickly says. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Too late.”

“I only mentioned it because I thought you…thought you might have remembered seeing me.”

I can’t meet his eyes. “You did look familiar. I couldn’t remember from where.”

“Please don’t feel bad. And I’d love it if you looked at me. You have the most incredible blue eyes.”

My pulse is in overdrive as I lift my gaze to his. “There,” he says. “I love those eyes.”

Butterflies tickle my stomach. But I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say.

Dominic is the first one to speak. “Let me ask this before I lose my nerve. I’m hoping we can get together for coffee sometime.”

“Coffee?”

He nods. “Or dinner. Something else…”

Something else. I’d be a moron not to know what he’s talking about.

Am I a moron for being attracted to him? Or worse, am I a dirty whore?

But how can I not be attracted to him? I’m so starved for sex from my husband that the first sexual interest in me from an attractive male has me turned on.

It’s only natural.

But I can’t cheat on Charles.

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t tell me no. Just think about it.”

Seriously, Dominic has a voice that could probably leave me shuddering in the bedroom. And he’s got such a warm smile. It’s hard to resist him.

“Okay,” I finally tell him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not making any promises.” My left hand is still behind my back.

“That’s fine.”

Thankfully, Dominic turns and starts for the door. I don’t deny myself the pleasure of checking out every inch of his magnificent body.

I’m gonna burn in hell…

It’s incredible how you don’t lose the internal dialogue you were raised with, and my mother was always preaching fire and brimstone. While other parents read to their kids at bedtime, my mother lectured us on all the sin in the world. She made sure to tell us that if we messed up in any way—from stealing candy at a store to engaging in premarital sex—we were going to hell.

I remember her saying all the time that just thinking something inappropriate is in fact a sin. I guess by that standard, I’ve already committed adultery. What’s to stop me from doing the real deed?

At the door, Dominic looks at me over his shoulder. “You’re really beautiful. Just thought I’d tell you that.”

“Thank you.” I swallow again. He has no clue how badly I’d like to rip his clothes off and have sex with him right here on my desk.

At least I can do that in my fantasies.

Who cares if I’ll burn in hell?

I think about Dominic all the way home.

Mentally, I’ve already crossed the line with him, so I take it a step further. I imagine what it’d be like to have my soft breasts pressed against that hard chest of his. I think about what it’d be like to gaze into his eyes as I lay beneath him, his penis deep inside me. I dream of how he might taste, and how he’d moan with pleasure as I take him deep in my mouth.

The sexual images continue even as I pull into my driveway, and I don’t want them to stop. The moment I step into my house, I know what I’m going to do. What I have to do.

I go to my closet and dig out the last-minute purchase I made after my day of shopping for new clothes. The vibrator. It’s thick and long and lifelike, except that it’s blue.

Before now, I’ve been embarrassed to try it, but I’m looking forward to it now.

I strip off my leather pants and blouse and lie down on the bed in my bra and thong.

I turn the penis on and close my eyes. The gentle vibrations stimulate my breasts, and I imagine that Dominic’s hands are touching me. It’s so easy to get hot thinking about this man, and when I touch myself, I’m already wet.

“Oh yes, Dom,” I whisper, pretending it is his fingers stroking my nub, his fingers slipping into my folds. And then I imagine his tongue, hot and hungry, laving my pussy with such expert skill that I almost come from it.

But I don’t want to feel his tongue. I want to feel his cock. So I move the vibrator lower, between my legs, where I rub it against my clit. Oh, that feels good. So good, I’m moaning as if it’s really a man’s penis.

Not just any man’s. Right now, it’s Dominic’s. And he’s hard for me and wants me more than he’s ever wanted anyone else.

I spread my lips and insert the tip of the vibrator. Holy shit, I’m tight. It’s like I’m a virgin again.

But I keep going, keep urging it inside. Finally, it’s so deep inside me that the balls settle against my opening and the featherlike tentacles meant to massage me are rubbing against my clit.

“Oh, Dom…” My breathing shallows. “Hell yes…”

I tweak a nipple, picturing it in Dominic’s mouth as he thrusts deep inside me. And those little tentacles work like magic, bringing me closer and closer to pure bliss.

“Ohh…Ohhhhh!” My moan is long and rapturous as the sweetest orgasm I’ve experienced takes its hold and doesn’t let go for several seconds. Dominic has his penis nestled deep inside me, and he’s watching me as I come. God, that smile of his. Right now, I am completely his.

The seconds pass. My breathing calms. Dominic fades away. I pull out the vibrator. I’m as satisfied as any woman could be, yet there’s something hollow about it. Something that can’t be completely fulfilled.

Because it’s not the real thing.

After my orgasm, I rifle through every single pair of pants hanging in Charles’s closet. And then I go through his drawers. And when I’m finished searching every spot in his dresser, I head back to the closet and even go through his shoes.

And find nothing. Not a single thing.

I slump onto the floor, exhausted both physically and mentally. And I’m disappointed.

Oh my God. I really am disappointed, when I should be elated.

“What am I doing?” I ask aloud. When Samera suggested I check Charles’s clothes, I didn’t. So why am I doing it now? Am I trying to find a reason to justify jumping Dominic’s bones?

I groan softly, knowing that’s the real reason for my disappointment. And God, how pathetic is that? I meet a guy who has my libido burning and suddenly I’m digging through my husband’s stuff in a desperate attempt to find even one thread of evidence. It’s like I want to find out that Charles is an unfaithful asshole who doesn’t deserve my fidelity.

Lord but I want to get laid. This is what no sex does to you. It eats at the core of you, like a worm inside an apple. And slowly but surely it spoils you. It corrupts you.

I’m corrupted now. I don’t care if I’m married to Charles. I want to have hot, wild sex with a man who finds me attractive.

I push myself up off the floor and walk out of the closet. I plop myself onto the bed. After a moment, I reach for the phone. I want to call Claudia, but then I remember she’s in New York for her fitting. Lishelle’s no doubt at the studio, so I don’t want to bother her there.

Instead, I find myself calling Charles. The man I swore to be faithful to until death parts us.

“Charles Crawford’s office,” his receptionist says pleasantly.

“Emily, it’s Annelise. Is Charles available?”

“Oh, sure. Hold on a sec.”

A moment later, Charles comes onto the line.

“Annelise, hi.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much. I was just thinking about you. I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “I’m fine. Just…missing you.” And feeling incredibly guilty for my mental infidelity!

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, surprising me. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe what we need to do is plan some time away. I’m always so busy with work. Maybe if I get the hell away from this place…”

My heart fills with hope. All this time, I thought my suggestions were going in one ear and out the other. But Charles was listening. He really was.

“Oh, Charles. That would be fantastic. Do you really think you can get the time?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay. That’s all I can ask.” I pause. “What about tonight? Do you want to go out for dinner?” I ask him. “It’s a Tuesday, it shouldn’t be hard to get reservations.”

“Sure. We haven’t done that in a while, have we?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“I can’t believe how caught up with work I get. I’ll have to make a better effort.”

Charles is being so agreeable, I could cry.

“I’ll call around and find someplace suitable. Is a reservation for seven o’clock okay?”

“Perfect. Now, I hate to cut this short—”

“Charles,” I say quickly.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

There’s a pause. I’m wondering if Charles is going to say anything when he finally speaks. “I know you do, sweetheart. And I love you, too.”

When I hang up the phone, I immediately go to my purse and dig out the card Dominic gave me earlier. I rip it to shreds. Then I walk to the bathroom where I flush them down the toilet.

Chapter Nine
Lishelle

I’m gazing into Glenn’s eyes. Yes, gazing. And holding his hand as we lie in my bed face-to-face, naked as the day we were born. One of Glenn’s legs is slung over both of mine. This feels so natural—like he’s been in my life and my bed forever.

I could stare into those mesmerizing hazel eyes all day. You’d think I’ve never been with a man before and Glenn’s got some kind of spell on me.

But hey, I’m in love. And the truth is, I’ve never loved anyone like I love Glenn.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask him.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to eat me up with your eyes.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks.

“Not a chance. I want to stay here like this forever with you.”

“I know what you mean.”

A beat passes. I yawn. “I’m so exhausted. Thanks to you.”

“You weren’t complaining last night.”

“I sure wasn’t,” I reply, chuckling softly. “What a start to my weekend!”

After speaking with Glenn during the week, I didn’t expect him until today. But he surprised me by calling me at the studio last night and telling me he was in town.

We’ve been fucking ever since.

What can I say? I haven’t had sex in two years. I’m going to take as much of it as I can get these days.

Glenn lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “I aim to please.”

“Did you ever!”

We both giggle, then gaze. Sheesh, you’d think we were fifteen and had just shared our first sexual experience together.

“You ready to get up?” Glenn asks me. Of course, he asks this as he tweaks one of my nipples.

“Oh, you don’t play fair, do you?”

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” Glenn lowers his head and his hot tongue covers my nipple. I close my eyes and moan. He takes my nipple deep in his mouth and suckles it slowly. Slowly, yet it nearly drives me out of my mind.

I run my hands over his closely cropped hair. “Damn you, Glenn.”

“You want me to stop?”

“I thought…thought we were…” I can’t finish my thought. Glenn is now massaging my clit, and oh, it feels so good. If I let myself, I could come. It’s like my whole body is a giant nub, and the moment he touches me, I’m lost.

I’m his.

Glenn rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. His fingers dig into my ass, kneading my flesh. I quickly straddle him. Damn, his cock feels amazing pressed against my vagina like this.

But it feels much better inside me.

I ease my body up and stroke my finger over the length of his shaft—then guide his throbbing erection inside me. “Ooh, Glenn. Damn…”

He pulls my hips down so that he fills me with a hard thrust. We spent more than half the night screwing, so my inner walls are sore, but this pain is pleasure.

“You’re so hot,” Glenn whispers. He kneads my breasts, plays with my nipples. I ride him like he’s a wild horse, hanging on to his solid legs for support. And I watch the expression on his face. It’s a look of total ecstasy, the same one I know he must see on my face. I love how we stare into each other’s eyes, like there’s total openness and honesty between us.

“Come on, baby,” Glenn moans. He grips my hips as he thrusts upward deep and hard, over and over again. I rub myself against him so that there’s delicious friction against my clit.

A moment later, I close my eyes as a wave of orgasmic bliss washes over me. I arch my back and enjoy the ride.

Glenn’s fingers dig into my butt. I’m still coming when I hear his grunt-giggle sound. I tighten my inner walls around him, knowing that will intensify his pleasure.

Slowly, his lips curl in a smile. He presses his palms against my shoulder blades, urging me forward. I collapse against his chest.

We’re silent for a moment, our ragged breaths mingling. Then we start laughing.

“You do this to me every time, Baxter. Make me forget about everything but making love to you.”

“I can’t keep my hands off you.”

I slide off his chest and onto my back. “I’d better take a shower. Alone. You’re gonna have to keep that lethal weapon away from me if we’re ever going to do anything else today.”

“All right, all right,” Glenn grudgingly agrees. Still, he reaches for my body as I move off the bed. He grins at me, then settles back on his pillow.

“I guess we should go out for breakfast,” he says. “Eat something to build our strength up.”

“For more sex?” I ask, twisting my lips in mock reproof.

“No, actually. There’s something I want to show you.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Show me? What could you want to show me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” I plop back down on the bed beside him. “Come on, Glenn. You know how I am with surprises. Just tell me what it is.”

“You go get your shower. Or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Glenn…”

He pushes my leg. “Go.”

I glare at him before scooting off the bed. I’m kidding, of course. I bluff a good game but I don’t really want him to tell me what the surprise is. I love surprises.

“Hurry,” he tells me. “Or it might not be today.”

“All right, I’m going.” I grin all the way to the bathroom.

“You can’t possibly want more food?” I say to Glenn a couple hours later, when we’re sipping coffees at a Denny’s fifteen minutes from my house. I’m not a big fan of the Denny’s chain, but most anyplace can do breakfast right.

Glenn peruses the plastic-encased lunch menu in the center of the table. “I don’t know. I could have a burger.”

“You could not, so let’s just settle the bill and leave already.”

“Impatient for that surprise, are you?”

I smile sweetly at him.

“Can I order dessert?”

“No dessert!” I laugh. “Boy, you know how to tease a girl.”

“So I’m told.”

Something catches in my chest. I know we’re both joking here, but it hits me instantly that I’ve never asked Glenn about his past. We’ve been too busy getting reac-quainted in bed, and the subject hasn’t come up.

“I bet you have been, haven’t you?” Before he can answer, I continue. “Tell me what your life has been like over the years. You said you’ve never been married, but there had to be someone serious. Maybe a few women you were serious with?”

Glenn sips his coffee. “You don’t really want to talk about this, do you?”

“I do. At first I thought I didn’t want to know, but I realize now that I was lying to myself.”

“All right. There was someone serious. Only one since you and I have been apart. A couple quasi-serious relationships, but the last one was the most intense.”

My gut tightens. Can you believe I’m jealous? “How long ago?” I ask. “And how serious?”

“How long ago?” He thinks for a moment. “I guess about fourteen months.”

“Wow. That’s pretty recent.”

“I know.”

“Don’t leave me hanging. Tell me what happened.”

“We dated for about two years. Yeah, two years,” he says, seeing my surprised look. “I’d popped the question, and we were going to get married.”

“Really?” I’m stunned. I know I didn’t ask before now, but isn’t this information Glenn should have volunteered? Or am I being too sensitive over the matter?

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes slightly. “But it didn’t work out.”

“Oh, no no no. You don’t just tell me you asked a woman to marry you—barely over a year ago—then tell me it didn’t work out. What happened—and do I have to worry that she’s going to come back into your life at any moment?”

“No chance of that, since she decided to get back together with her ex-husband. She broke down and told me that my proposal made her realize she had unresolved issues with her ex—you really want to hear this?”

I nod.

“I proposed to her. She didn’t answer, said she needed time. Three days later, she gave me some lame story about the sacredness of marital vows and how she shouldn’t promise the same thing to another man that she’d promised to her husband. She said she wanted to give him another chance.” Glenn shrugs. “As far as I know, they got back together, and they’re married again.”

I am feeling much, much better. Well, maybe not that much better. “So she broke your heart.”

“I’m not still hung up on her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Are you sure? You were going to marry the woman.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Because I’m hung up on someone else.” He gives me a pointed look. “Always was, if you want to know the truth, even though we’d gone our separate ways. Plus, I don’t think things were really meant to be with Tess. She had a couple kids—”

“Tess?”

“—and she didn’t want more. I’d be forcing it with her to make it work. I know that now. Believe me, everything’s worked out for the best. Especially now that I have you back in my life.”

I search Glenn’s eyes. They seem sincere. Truthful. There’s really no reason for me to be making an issue out of this.

But still I ask, “How did you two connect in bed?”

“Nowhere near the way we do,” Glenn answers without hesitation. Then he reaches across the table and strokes his thumb across my palm.

“So I don’t need to spend the rest of my life hating her?” I joke.

“It’d be a waste of energy.”

“I know. You’re right. What matters is here and now. Us.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Glenn reaches for his wallet in the back of his pants and pulls out some money. He drops it onto the table on top of the bill. Then he asks, “Ready for your surprise?”

“I can’t wait.”

My excitement mounts when Glenn and I arrive in Duluth, one of Atlanta’s upscale and beautiful suburbs. The houses are large here, with sprawling, well-manicured lawns, neatly trimmed shrubs, colorful flowers and winding driveways that stretch for at least a couple hundred feet.

My heart is beating a mile a minute. What on earth could Glenn be doing taking me to a spot like this?

He’s holding my hand, something that feels so comfortable. It makes me smile. It’s nice to know that despite how well Glenn and I connect in the bedroom, there’s more to our relationship than that.

“I’m dying here, babe. When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“You’ll see…”

I continue to survey the area as Glenn makes a series of turns. At last, we pull into the driveway of a gray stucco house with a For Sale sign on the lawn. The interlocking brick driveway veers to the right, where there’s enough space for eight or so cars.

My eyes whip to Glenn’s. He doesn’t say a word. Simply grins at me like a fool as he pulls his cell phone out of the holder on his belt.

He dials a number. Then I hear him say, “Hey, Sandra. It’s Glenn Baxter. I’m in front of the house. Great, see you shortly.”

“Who was that?” I ask Glenn, although I know who it had to be. At least I think I know who it had to be.

“That was the real estate agent.”

“Glenn! What are you doing? And when did you arrange to meet a real estate agent here? We’ve been together the whole time.”