Best Laid Plans

Finally, about five , my husband deigned to return. He was sunburned and grinning when he came around the cabin. I felt my anger slipping away at the sight of him so relaxed and happy but I tried to hold on to enough of it for a minute longer to let him know I was disappointed.

I folded my arms across my chest as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might want to come along with you? Especially since this is the first vacation we've had alone together since we started having kids?"

He pursed his lips. "No, I didn't think of that. I always go fishing alone anymore."

I nodded. "Because somebody has to watch the kids."

He sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry." He grinned. "How about I get a shower and we go out for a nice dinner?"

I nodded grudgingly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek again. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes, twenty tops."

While he grabbed a shower, I went down to the ranger's station and asked about a good place to eat.

"Oh, if you want good food, you'll want Betty's BBQ, best place around."

I got directions and an hour later we pulled into a parking lot that was full to overflowing. As we edged inside the door of the joint, the music and chatter was almost deafening. A group of people turned baleful stares on us. There was clearly going to be a wait.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Dave yelled into my ear.

I shook my head. "I didn't see anywhere else on the way, did you?" I yelled back.

He shook his head.

So, we waited . . . and waited. It was a good hour before we were seated and another half before we got served our food. The food was excellent, I will say that. But we definitely couldn't hear each other. I tried to make the best of it by smiling and making eyes at Dave but he seemed too tired to play.

Driving back to the cabin, he yawned repeatedly though it was barely eight o'clock. I was determined to have a good time tonight. I reached across the seat to rub my hand on his leg and strayed across to fondle his package. He raised his eyebrows at me and I grinned. Our vacation was half over but I was going to make the most of what time we had left.

Back at the cabin, we walked up to the bathroom. When I was done, I waited outside, expecting him to come out so we could walk back to the cabin the way we used to, but after a few minutes it occurred to me that he must have gone back already. I was a little miffed but I consoled myself with the thought of his face when he saw me in the new nightie.

Back at the cabin, I heard the snores before I even put my hand on the door. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could try to wake him up but what had I expected, really? He'd been out fishing in his kayak all day. Of course he was exhausted. This vacation was not going at all the way I had hoped or expected.

I got my e-reader and took it to one of the bunks at the other end of the cabin, along with a throw blanket. I flipped open my case and lowered the brightness. What did I want to read? I had a book on creativity but I was feeling restless and I had a new Darynda Jones from the Charlie Davidson series, the one where she's the grim reaper and a P.I.. I was only a few books in but so far they had been funny as hell and the male character, Reyes, was hot. Definitely what I was in the mood for.

"Third Grave Dead Ahead" started with the typical quirky explanation of who Charlie was and what she could do, with a clown crossing over through her. Also typical, by the middle of the first chapter she was having totally hot sex with Reyes. The picture she painted got my own motor humming and soon I closed the book and was picturing Reyes behind me as I teased my fingers lightly over the front of my panties, the light pressure vibrating through my body. My breathing deepened.

I rubbed more firmly along my slit and heard him moan my name in my head. But somewhere along the way, Reyes had become my sexy cabin neighbor, his husky voice in my ear urging me on until the steady pressure left me throbbing with release. I sighed and pulled the blanket around me, my eyes already shut as I totally relaxed.

I woke in the morning to find my husband standing over me, scowling.

"Fell asleep reading again, didn't you?"

What bug had crawled up his butt? I looked around, my e-reader was next to me. "Guess so," I merely said.

"It's raining," he said sourly before turning and walking away.

Realization dawned . . . no fishing today. I couldn't help the little grin that crept across my face. Rain meant he would be staying in and we would have some time together. Yay! But I schooled my mouth into a sympathetic frown.

"Aw, I'm sorry honey. I'll make us a nice breakfast in just a minute to help you feel better."

He didn't reply but I flipped the blanket off, grabbed my jacket and dashed up to the bathroom in the rain.

When I got back, he was reading one of his fishing blogs on his phone so I got to work on breakfast. It wouldn't be cooked over the fire but I'd brought bacon, eggs and one of those shakeable pancake mixes that you just add water to. With the stove they provided, I had a great homemade breakfast ready in no time. I'd fried the bacon in one pot then cracked the eggs into the grease while I'd flipped pancakes in the skillet. One flipper, one wood spoon, a fork, two pans and the coffee pot, and we had a perfect breakfast. I'd even remembered the O.J., butter and real maple syrup.

"Breakfast is ready," I called cheerfully as I set it up on the picnic table under the porch. We could enjoy the great outdoors and some conversation, even if it was raining.

When he came to the table, I could tell Dave was still bummed about the weather. I felt bad for him.

"Maybe it'll let up and you can get a little fishing in this afternoon before we head home," I suggested.

He scowled. "No, they're predicting it to get heavier and thunderstorms to move in. It wasn't on the radar Friday. I wouldn't have driven all this way or paid for a second night if I'd known I couldn't fish today!"

I felt my own face drawing down into a scowl. I swallowed and forced a smile as he shoveled food in. "How about spending some quality time alone with your wife?"

He snorted. "I can do that at home."

I felt my eyebrows drawn down to match the corners of my mouth. "But you don't," I bit out.

His head came up as if sensing the waters he had just waded into held hidden depths that might suddenly leave him treading water. "What are you talking about?"

I laid my fork down. "I am talking about the fact that I planned this weekend, asked your mother to watch the kids, so that WE . . . " I waved my finger back and forth between us, " . . . could have some alone time to . . . reconnect!"

"Reconnect?" He looked like I'd just spoken Portuguese to him.

"Instead," I went on. "You get drunk on the first night, disappear before I'm up on the second day and come back late, and so tired that you aren't even awake when I come to bed."

"Why didn't you just wake me up?"

"Because I'd have more luck waking my dead Uncle Jeremy!"

"How was I supposed to know this weekend was for spending time together?" He even made air quotes. "You didn't say anything about it when I talked about fishing."

"Because I thought we'd be spending it together. We used to go fishing together. Remember?"

"We haven't done that in years!"

"Because somebody has to watch the kids when you're fishing or hunting!"

"This is ridiculous! We're home all the time together."

"With three kids! Often between us wanting something so that we can't even talk."

"What is there to talk about?"

And there was the problem. It made me want to scream in his face so I got up and went inside before I did. A minute later I heard the car start and drive away.

Great, alone as usual, with or without him.

I was sitting out on the porch with my e-reader, trying to read my Darynda Jones book. The rain had dribbled to a stop for a bit and the sun was peeking through, shimmering off water droplets on grass and leaves. The brown of the cabins was darker with moisture and as the sun came out I realized it would likely evaporate the moisture, making for an ungodly hot and humid day.

I had dressed in my white jean shorts and a light purple v neck tee but I was barefoot, sitting with my back against the wall and my legs stretched along the picnic bench. My short legs only reached about halfway.

It was mid morning and I'd had a shower and been trying to read for half an hour but it wasn't working. I kept going over things in my head, trying to figure out where I had gone so wrong when a compelling low voice addressed me.

"Ah, cara mia."

I looked up to see Max leaning against the post at the corner of the porch, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, hi," I said. I was a little flustered that I hadn't heard him approach and I couldn't help thinking of how I'd last seen him. A smile curved up the corners of his beautiful lips, as if he could guess what I was thinking.

"You're scowling pretty hard, heavy reading?"

I shook my head. "Actually it's a pretty funny read."

"So, if it isn't the book, what has you scowling?" He looked around. "Where's your husband? You know, I have yet to meet him, or even see him."

I couldn't keep my face from reacting and he caught on immediately.

"Ah, trouble in paradise?"

I looked over at him but there was no mockery in his tone and his expression was sympathetic. Still, I didn't really believe in sharing marital troubles with other people, let alone someone I'd just met. I tried not to kvetch in general without hopes of finding some useful advice, or at the very least, really needing to vent and I was totally vented out at that point, so I just shrugged.

"May I join you?" he asked.

"Oh, um, sure," I said.

He sat down, straddling the bench, facing me. As always, he looked amazing, this time in camo cargo shorts and a yellow tee. "How long have you two been together?"

"Ten years," I replied.

He let out a whistle. "Good job." He reached out and stroked a finger up the bottom of my foot.

I jumped and but he just wrapped his hands around my foot. "Sorry." But he didn't let go, instead he started massaging my foot.

I felt caught in his blue eyes again but I gave myself a shake and pulled my feet away, turning to put them on the ground. I was shocked when he got up and immediately knelt in front of me, sliding his hands up the outside of my legs and resting his chin on my knees.

"I'd like to take you inside and do whatever it takes to put a smile back on your face," he said huskily.

Wow.

"What about your wife?" I blurted out.

One corner of his mouth quirked up. "Do you want me to invite her to join us? She'd love that, but we didn't think you'd be interested."

My eyebrows went up. "No, that's not what I meant. I meant, wouldn't she object?"

"We have an open relationship, and you interested us both."

I took a deep breath. I couldn't help picturing him naked, the way I'd seen him the day before, thrusting into her.

He smiled up at me and it was beautiful.

There was a gorgeous man, kneeling between my legs, his cheek pressed to my bare leg, staring into my eyes with his beautiful blue ones, offering me potentially the best sex I'd had in years and I was going to say no?

Yes, yes, I was. Dammit.

Dave and I had made vows and nothing had changed that promise. I wouldn't cheat on him. I didn't have anything against other people who chose differently to have open relationships. I believed relationships were negotiated. I had even given consideration to the idea of polyamory at one point, when it became clear that Dave's libido did not quite match my own, but I had decided at that point that I probably wouldn't be able to stand the idea of him being with someone else. I might have to revisit that thought, but I wouldn't do anything without discussing it with Dave, and at least notifying him of my plans, if not getting his approval. He would have the right to object and decide what he could and couldn't live with.

I smiled regretfully. "I can't."

Max's expression mirrored my own regret as he sighed and rose gracefully to his feet. His hands spread, he bowed slightly as if in acquiescence. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

I said nothing as he turned and walked away. I honestly didn't know at that moment if my marriage was going to remain intact or not but I would not do anything to push it further off the cliff. I was holding on to it with a rope, even if it was burning my hands.

Other than for the sake of the kids, did I really have a good reason to stay tied to a man who didn't care about spending time with me, hearing what I thought or felt? Hell, other than not knowing what he would do to take care of the kids if I wasn't around, did he even care what happened to me?

There had been one night when I worked late and was forty-five minutes later than I had even said I would be getting home. He was up and seemed very agitated and I had thought, wow, he really does care what happens to me! Then it had come out that he really hadn't been worried about me, but whether I was having an affair. I didn't view jealousy as love.

I wasn't sure I cared anymore either and that made me even more tired. I went in to lay down.

I woke to arms wrapped around my waist and lips pressed to my neck.

"I'm sorry," Dave said.

I sighed. "Me too." I turned over to face him, both our heads on the same pillow. "I should've told you what I wanted this weekend to be before we came out here."

He looked contrite. "I'm sorry you feel ignore. What can I do to make it up to you?"

There wasn't much we could do if he just didn't really care enough about what I thought or felt to even want to listen to me so I wasn't sure. It was an imperfect understanding but I decided to grab on and run with it. Maybe we could get this relationship away from the cliff yet.

I reached out and rubbed the back of my fingers over his beard and he turned to press his lips to my fingers. "I think we should set up a date night once or twice a month so we have some time to ourselves. That kind of thing has really gotten away from us."

"I guess we can do that."

That was the most enthusiasm I was likely to get out of him and I wasn't sure it was enough but I'd have to accept I because asking for more wouldn't magically generate it.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Just about noon."

"Do you want lunch?" I asked, starting to sit up, but his arm around my waist pulled me back down.

"No, I want to spend some 'quality' time with my wife," he said as he pulled me closer.

I thought with regret of the pretty new nightie I had bought, but he always had preferred me in nothing at all.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I said, but I wasn't sure I meant it quite the way he did anymore, so I quickly leaned forward and kissed him.

I closed my eyes and pressed myself into his warm arms. It was comfortable but I wanted the passion back. I felt him start to roll me over. Now, that's more like it, I thought. I liked it when he got aggressive in bed. But then he pulled back.

I frowned a question at him but he just grinned. "Just a minute. I have something. Take your clothes off."

I obliged as he jumped up and pulled something out of his jacket before stripping his own clothes off. I lay back on the bed and saw he had a bottle in his hand.

"Roll over."

I did so and heard him flip open a cap and, after a minute, he knelt on the bed next to me. I heard his hands rub together then he laid them on my shoulders and started kneading my back, rubbing and stroking. I caught a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla. Mmmm, massage oil.

I sighed as he wrapped a hand around my neck and rubbed gently then worked over my shoulders and down my upper arms, his fingertips brushing the sides of my breasts deliciously. I felt a tingling in my southern regions.

"How's that?" he asked softly.

"Mmmm, delicious."

He rubbed out with both hands down the length of my spine then I heard the cap open and close before his hands rubbed together and I felt them applied to my buttocks, kneading and squeezing. I did love it when he played with my ass. The way he squeezed tugged at my sensitive backside and made me wet in a hurry.

His fingers skated down the back of my thighs, down my calves, and my whole body shivered. Then he began working back up, stroking and kneading. When he got to my ass, this time he swung a leg over and straddled my thighs as he squeezed my ass. I loved it when he was on top of me, whether I was on my back or my front. Something about the pressure just filled my body with a lovely anticipation. I could feel his balls press up against my ass and his erection pressed into the valley of my buttocks as he leaned forward and rubbed his hands over my back again.

Then he went further and spread his arms out over mine, rocking his hips into my ass and warmth flooded my pussy.

I moaned in approval as he kept rocking against my ass.

"Do you like that?" he murmured.

"Uh huh."

"I do too. I love the feel of your ass against my cock, but you know what I like even better?"

I shook my head, breathing deeply. He sat up and gripped my hips, pulling me up to push his cock between my legs, the bulbous head pushing into my wet core.

He groaned. "Your wet pussy around my aching cock."

I gripped the sleeping bag in my fingers as he slammed into me from behind, his balls grinding against my clit perfectly as he rolled his hips, pulled out and thrust again, and again, pounding into me.

I was so close. I suddenly wished I had long hair again so he could pull it. But he did the next best thing. I felt his hand come down on my ass hard then he squeezed. It was crazy sometimes how he almost seemed to read my mind. I gasped and felt my body tighten and release as he kept pounding into me. His other hand came down sharply on my ass then he groaned and tensed, and I knew he was coming.

He held my hips and rocked gently for a minute before he pulled out and lay down on his back beside me. I reached over and rubbed a hand across the rough hair on his chest.

He smiled, grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Now I could eat," he said.

I chuckled and moved over to snuggle into his side.

I loved the way he took care of me, I realized. Oh, not in the monetary sense. I was doing fine when we met and I would be fine if we split, but he was my rock. He held me down when I felt like I was rising too far into the clouds. I honestly didn't know where we were going but I was willing to hold on for the ride.