Kiss Me Again Page 3

  "My hair reminds you of yarn?"

  Buck tried to sit up but gravity was too much. Instead, he pointed to her shirt. "What's that on the side of your shirt? Come here. Let me touch it."

  Andee hesitated, questioning her ethics. Could she seduce him? If he rubbed her shirt, would his hand move upward? Should she stop him or see what happened? He was drunk, after all. There was no telling how the rest of the night was going to turn out. Shrugging, she stepped toward him and turned so the side of her shirt was closest to him, as was her right breast.

  Buck rubbed the leather panel that joined the front and back of her shirt. The panels pulled the fabric in and helped accentuate her figure. Buck scratched the leather with his nails.

  "What's this? It looks like the underbelly of a dragon," he said and followed it up with a belch.

  "You're disgusting."

  "You're disgusting. Hurting poor, harmless dragons to make a shirt. I bet they're on the endangered species list." He laughed, clearly more impressed with his joke than she was.

  Andee tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. Tears pressed against her eyes, begging to be free. This night had not gone even a fraction as she'd imagined, unless she counted the one comment he'd made about her boobs.

  "Oh hey, guess what I found out?" Buck said with a snap of his fingers, only his snap was weak and quiet. His attention was drawn to his fingers as he tried to make his snap louder.

  Andee clapped her hands together in a loud boom. Buck's head snapped up, his attention on her.

  "You were saying?"

  "I was?"

  "You were saying you found something out today."

  "Oh yeah. Guess who's getting divorced?" His expression was smug; he knew he was beating her to the scoop.

  Andee was suddenly very interested. "Who?"

  "Kevin and Lisa Norman."

  Andee froze, panic wrapping a cold hand around her as she struggled to grasp what Buck said, but could only focus on one thing--Kevin and Lisa's relationship was nearly identical to hers and Buck's. The guys had graduated together just like the girls had, and they'd been together just as long. They never seemed to fight, were always laughing and hugging. Was it Lisa's need to always sport some new jewel or that she lived at the gym? Was it Kevin's receding hairline? Andee covered her mouth. They had three children, and she couldn't help but think of them. No one had ever expected them to split up. Ever.

  "Are you kidding me? What happened?"

  Buck shrugged. "I heard he has a little honey on the side."

  Andee pressed her hand to her heart and took in a shallow breath, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Kevin and Lisa were at the ten-year marriage mark as well.

  Fear rippled through her as she tried to think about life without Buck. It was impossible to imagine, as they'd been together for half her life. She didn't know any other man. She didn't want to.

  "Bucky," she said. "Come to bed."

  But he was already asleep, soft snores coming from his open mouth. Andee covered him with an afghan his mother had made them and walked slowly around her house, turning out the lights, and touching items they'd collected over the years. Mementos from vacations together, memories attached to each piece, but her mind was on the Normans and trying to not compare how much they had in common with her and Buck.

  In their room, she washed her face without seeing her reflection in the mirror before her, instead focused on what was in the past. Snippets of their life that might have contributed to the crappy state their marriage was currently in. The rift between them looked small, innocuous, but she was quite certain if she peered over the edge, she'd find the depth greater than she'd thought. There was more going on here. Buck getting fired and drunk? That wasn't him. Fired happened at least twice a year and was inevitable with a misanthropic asshole like his father for a boss.

  But to get drunk knowing he would have to face his father again tomorrow was only borrowing trouble. Something she herself could not avoid, as she tried not to think about his reaction to her--or lack thereof. What man preferred his wife to look like she'd been cleaning toilets all day versus looking as if she'd sex him up in a hot minute? A man who wasn't romantically interested in his wife, that's who.

  Both mentally and physically weary, she fell into bed and refused to give in to her tears. But sleep eluded her as she lay on her side of the large bed, Buck's side empty. Her mind continued to drift to the Normans, trying to imagine what Lisa was going through. Eventually, after she'd lost the war and succumbed to her tears, she fell into a fitful sleep that was heavy on dreams of a bleak future.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Because she was co-owner of a breakfast diner, Two Chicks and Bacon, Andee had to be an early riser. It was her job to grab the papers, fresh vegetables, flowers, and other essentials that she and Lorelei used each morning. The next morning was no different, with the exception that her hair was straight, her clothes new and better fitting, and she'd spent more time on her makeup. She'd needed to in order to hide her red, puffy eyes.

  Cleaving tightly to what she perceived to be the threads of her marriage, she banked her disappointment and fears in hopes of clearing her head so she could find a solution. She desperately needed a plan. Forward motion had to be better than this whirlpool of inactivity, just circling around the issue.

  Andee started the coffeepot for Buck, but she didn't kiss his cheek to wake him nor did she set out the fresh orange juice that he liked to drink before he went on his regular morning run. She assumed he'd be in no state for the physical activity and would likely wake up at the last minute and rush to work. She wondered if she should make him a Bloody Mary--hair of the dog if you will--to help fortify him for the battle with his father. But eventually she decided the last thing he needed was more booze in his system.

  By the time she arrived at the diner, carrying her stock in a large crate, her brain still had not produced an inkling of an idea, and her mood had gone from proactively determined to foul and scared. She kicked the door closed behind her and wished she could kick it again. Lorelei stood in the kitchen, a large bowl resting in the crook of her arm, the whisk hovering above it.

  "Morning. You look pretty. I like your hair," Lorelei said quietly.

  "Really?" Andee's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Bucky likes my hair frizzy. Says it reminds him of yarn."

  Lorelei's mouth made a small "O" but no sound came out. She placed the bowl on the counter, whisk standing up in the batter, and faced her friend.

  "You wanna talk about it?"

  Andee shook her head. "In his defense, he was drunk, but if I think about it I might start crying." She slid the crate onto the counter.

  Lorelei had been Andee's best friend since elementary school, but how did one tell a blissfully happy, almost-newly married woman about the dark side of marriage? Besides, Lorelei was known for her temper, and being six months pregnant and hormonal only increased the odds that if she heard everything, she might punch Buck in the junk the next time she saw him.

  Lorelei reached out and pulled her into a hug. "OK. I'm here whenever you're ready."

  Andee nodded and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She hated pity parties, especially when she was the center of one, but darn if she just couldn't get herself out of it.

  "Are you still up for the interviews today?" With Lorelei's baby due in four months, they needed to hire someone to replace her while she was on maternity leave. Truth was the diner was doing so well they could afford to hire enough additional people that both Lorelei and Andee could take more time off. Andee had dreamt about spending that time in her new vacation home, the thought of which brought a sense of calm to her chaotic state of mind.

  "Yeah, I'm still good for that. The sooner we nail that down, the sooner we can move on to the other things we want to do."

  Lorelei sighed. "It'll be hard not coming here six days a week. It's all I've known for eight years. But a break will be nice."


  "I'm not sure a baby is much of a break," Andee said with a laugh.

  She went through her morning set-up routine in a haze, full of questions about what her next action should be. What if he didn't respond like she expected yet again? If she tried one more time, and he didn't notice, could she survive the blow to her esteem? To their marriage? Clearly, he was underwhelmed by her new look.

  What had started out as an attempt to bring them closer had only succeeded in building one more obstacle for her to overcome.

  Andee flipped the sign to open and unlocked the doors, greeting the regulars as they made their way to their favorite tables.

  "Don't you look pretty," said Mr. Jenkins, her former drivers-ed teacher, now retired, as she filled his coffee. "You do something different?"

  "My hair's not curly. I straightened it."

  Mr. Thompson looked at her hair and shook his head. "Nah, I think it's more the way you're carrying yourself. That color looks nice on you."

  Even with all the weight of her home life pressing down on her, Andee couldn't help but feel pretty in the new outfit she'd picked out with Melinda. The fact that Mr. Thompson, a man, had noticed . . . Well. Andee pressed her lips together briefly before letting the words tumble free. "You noticed the color? I thought that was beyond men."

  "Girl, I've been married nearly fifty years. I've learned to notice color." He finished his sentence with a wink.

  A million questions begged to be asked, but Andee surveyed the crowd and held her tongue. Maybe an opportunity to pick his brain would arise at a later date. She could only hope.

  After returning to the coffeemaker, she set the empty carafe on the hotplate to be refilled and grabbed the full one, ready to replenish cups at the counter, stopping short when she saw Melinda Bane sitting there, her hands wrapped around a mug.

  "So?" Melinda wiggled one brow.

  "So nothing." Andee refilled her cup.

  "Oh, come on. Don't hold out on me. I need details."

  Andee leaned across the counter and dropped her voice. "Seriously. Nothing. He had a bad day at work, came home drunk, and thought my shirt was made of dragon skin . . ." She shrugged instead of bursting into tears.

  Melinda slapped her hand against the linoleum and leaned back in the chair. "You have got to be kidding me," she said in a loud voice.

  "Shhh. Keep it down."

  Melinda leaned forward. "I never thought of Bucky Swift as a buffoon, but hey, wonders never cease. What about your hair?"

  "He said it looked like it did when I got out of the shower. He did not prefer it. He did, however, like my breasts."

  "Well, that's something. I think you look very pretty."

  "Great. Then you and I can get married." Andee leaned against the counter and slapped the edge repeatedly with a tea towel. "Oh my word! Did you hear?" She bent closer toward Melinda.

  "Hear what?"

  Andee looked around the diner at the guests. She knew gossiping wasn't friendly, but this was more about panic and learning from other's troubles. Regardless, she didn't want to offend anyone. "Lorelei, come here a sec." Andee waved her friend over.

  When the three were together, Andee closed the space between them and lowered her voice. "Kevin and Lisa Norman are getting divorced."

  Lorelei gasped but Melinda sat back in her chair.

  "Good for Lisa," Melinda said. "That butt face has been careless and disrespectful. If a person is in a relationship they should end it before starting one with another person." Melinda sat forward "You know, he cornered me about a month ago and propositioned me. As if I do that sort of thing. As if I don't know his wife or hadn't just served his kids breakfast." Melinda owned a greasy spoon that would be Two Chicks' competition if the menus were even remotely similar.

  Melinda continued, "Just because I'm divorced doesn't mean I'm easy, like he implied. Of course he did this after I caught him out with some young girl, looked fresh out of college. And I'm being generous here."

  Andee couldn't believe her ears.

  "He was out in the open with another woman?" Lorelei asked.

  Melinda nodded. "He didn't care who caught him."

  Lorelei narrowed her eyes. "I hope she skins him alive."

  "She won't." Melinda shook her head. "I saw her the other day, and she asked me if I was happier once I got divorced. I told her I was just relieved. She looked like she could handle a bit of relief."

  "What am I---I mean what is she going to do?" Andee asked.

  Melinda grabbed her hand. "This is not you and Buck. Listen, men are morons They don't always put the pieces together. You have to show him how this new look benefits him."

  "She's right," added Lorelei.

  Melinda adjusted her shirt, exposing her ample cleavage even more. "I got this new shirt today. You like it?" She leaned forward.

  "No, you didn't. You got it yesterday when we were shopping."

  Melinda smacked Andee on the side of the arm.

  "Ow," she said, rubbing it. "Oh, I see what you just did. I get it." Tell them without actually telling them. Sneaky. "You think I should try again."

  "Um." Melinda rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I think you should try again until you get the results you want."

  "What if I never get the results I want?" Andee whispered, partly to herself. "What if he wants a new honey? He's been acting weird."

  "Impossible. Buck loves you. Always has. Always will," Lorelei said.

  Melinda nodded her agreement.

  Yeah, but it wasn't Buck's love she doubted, just his desire for her. Everyone knew those were two different things. Men who had affairs were men who loved their wives, usually, but somewhere along the way the passion for them had turned into friendship and companionship. The shift in marriage went from turning them on to tuning them out.

  Andee saw that coming like a freight train about to jump the tracks. Not that she thought Buck was a cheater, but he was a red-blooded, horny man, and the last time they'd tried a position outside of missionary, the president had been campaigning for reelection.

  The jingling of the front door bells indicating a new customer stopped her from further sharing her fears with her friends. Andee turned to find Buck walking into the diner dressed in his typical, not-at-work, weekend clothes--a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and his favorite ball cap--which was puzzling He pulled his ball cap off and ran his hand through his hair before he folded then tucked the hat in his back pocket.

  "Hey," he said when he came to the counter. "Melinda. Lorelei." He nodded to them. "How are ya? How are the repairs coming on your house, Melinda? Heard Jared's company was fixing it up." He returned his gaze to Andee, Melinda's recent house fire already forgotten.

  "Can we talk?"

  "Now? Why aren't you at work? Isn't it your Saturday?" She knew it was his once-a-month weekend to cover the store. She straightened her shirt and pushed back her shoulders.

  "Can we take this elsewhere?"

  Andee scooped up a set of dirty dishes and dumped them into the bin for the dishwasher with a clatter, tossing a plate over them for good measure. Perversely, she took pleasure in his wince.

  "Buck here tied one on last night," she told the girls. Frankly, she was tired of this state they were in. Tired of trying to figure it out while he avoided it through work or TV, and drinking.

  "Why don't you all go into the kitchen," Lorelei said and pushed the dishwashing bin toward Andee.

  Andee snatched up the large plastic box, gave it a good shake, and nodded her head toward the back, indicating Buck should follow her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  With more force than she intended, Andee slid the wash bin onto the table and began loading it into the dishwasher, tossing the plates and mugs haphazardly into the machine.

  Her fear of what Buck was hiding and frustration over her repeated failures to draw it out of him had morphed into simmering anger. There was no denying that she was scared, but she'd finally hit a place where she
simply needed everything to be resolved so she could move forward. Living with no understanding about what the hell was happening was eating her alive. Doubt was now consuming logic.

  If Buck was no longer turned on by her and wanted someone else, then as her father would say, "It was time to fish or cut bait." This sentiment applied to whatever else might be eating away at the underpinning of their marriage.

  Slamming the door of the dishwasher closed with her hip, Andee grabbed a pen and paper and began taking inventory. She heard the swinging door whoosh open and slide closed and turned to face her husband.

  "Babe?" He took a step toward her.

  "What's going on, Buck? Why aren't you at work?" She crossed her arms, pen and paper gripped tightly in her fist, and shifted her body away from him.

  Stopping, he rested his hands on his hips. "I got fired. Remember?" He met her gaze.

  "You get fired at least twice a year. Why is today any different? Put on your uniform and go to work." Why was he suddenly so resistant to his job? Where was this coming from? From what she'd read, it was too soon for Buck to be having a midlife crisis, but damn it if it didn't look like that might be what was happening.

  Buck shook his head and stood firm before her. "I'm not going back there."

  She watched him search her face, trying to read her. Good luck, she couldn't even get a good gauge on how she felt. She slapped the pen and paper on the counter and planted her hands on her hips, ready for a faceoff.

  "What do you mean you're not going back there? Where you going? What are you doing? You've worked for your father since you were fifteen. You've never work anywhere else-ever- but today is the day you've decided to change that." She tossed up her hands in amazement.

  Buck briefly scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah, that's the plan." He scuffed his foot against the cement floor and met her gaze.

  "You're just walking away?"

  His mouth opened, then closed before opening again, the words apparently unwilling to come out. Andee almost took comfort in that. Almost.