Grant & Sandy Pt. 01

Our friends' car turned left, and we continued straight as my wife sat up languorously beside me, the back of her hand casually wiping her lips. With a sly sideways glance at me, she shimmied her hemline down to a reasonable facsimile of where it was supposed to reside, and refastened her seat-belt. I realized she hadn't seen Dani and Donovan at the lights. Whoa, do I bring that up now? She's happy, and what's done is done - you can fill her in later. Her hands went to the back of her head and pulled out the polished chopsticks, which had become more than slightly askew, depositing them in her lap. I grabbed her left hand with my right, and brought it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles tenderly. Her middle finger was wet, and the scent of her filled my nostrils like a drug. I was suddenly lost again, oblivious to anything but her. I reached for her moist finger with my tongue, and she obligingly slipped it into my mouth to suck clean.

"Well that was fun," Sandy offered with wry understatement, as she pulled her hand back into her lap.

"Jesus H. Christ, baby," I breathed in response. "You almost killed us both."

Her laugh was a sharp bark of genuine surprise and amusement. "When have you ever, EVER let me be in danger? I knew you'd take care of me if I took care of you." Her smile crashed over me like waves of love.

And then in a heartbeat - just like that - she changed again. Her clutch came out, the vanity mirror was opened, and she was all business, fixing her makeup and straightening her hair. We pulled into her parents' driveway short minutes later. I still hadn't quite come to grips with what had happened, but Sandy was chattering about seeing the kids and whether her dad had let them stay up too long as I walked around to open her door. "You should put that away and zip up," she mentioned in passing as I helped her down out of the car. Whoops, that would be a heart attack for her mom years of therapy for the kids. Get a grip, Grant. I hurriedly got myself squared away, and followed my wife's hypnotically swaying ass up the walkway to our front door. She turned to face me as I reached out to ring the bell.

"I love you," she said quietly, her eyes burning into mine.

"I love you too," I replied, my forehead leaning down to rest against hers as I brought her hands to my lips again. "Like the lark."

"Like the lark." The door opened in a blaze of sudden light, and we turned together to face parents and children alike, a rush of hugs and voices enveloping us as we walked through the door, fingers intertwined as always.