Best She Ever Had (9781617733963) (8 page)

“Because I was thinking about the fact that I haven't had sex that good since I was eighteen.” She lazily stroked his arm. “Bill tried in the beginning. Really, he did. But it just wasn't the same. And Richard couldn't find a G-spot if it had a siren and flashing lights.” She opened her eyes again and gazed up at him. “That's just pitiful, Korey. I'm almost forty and I still think about sex that I had on a lake almost twenty years ago.”

He didn't respond.

“Do you still think about it too?” she whispered, staring at his lips.

“Do I”—he tugged his arm out of her grasp and stared at the screen in the headrest—“do I, uh, still think about what?”

“Do you think about what it was like to touch me, Korey?”

He looked down at her.

“To kiss me . . .”

Now he was staring at her lips too.

“To be inside me?”

She abruptly raised her mouth to his. All the heat she had fought to keep at bay for the past several days now came hurtling forward. She teased his lips with her teeth and tongue and opened her mouth. He accepted her ready invitation and kissed her back just as hungrily, delving his tongue inside her mouth too.

The woman sitting across the aisle had lowered her steamy romance novel to her lap. Her eyes were almost popping out of her head now as she watched them. Why read about it when you had the real thing happening eighteen inches away from you?

Cynthia wrapped her arms around Korey's neck and let out a soft moan. Oh, she loved this! The kisses were still the same. She knew they would be! They weren't inflated memories from her teenaged years. His kisses were hot and ravenous . . . and
delicious
. She pressed herself against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. He started to wrap his arms around her. Then, abruptly, he reached up and tugged her hands away. He shoved her away from him, catching her by surprise.

“What I remember is you dumping me for Bill,” he said between labored breaths. He adjusted in his seat and tugged at the front of his jeans, where there was now a conspicuous bulge. “
That's
what I remember.”

She stared at him as he put his headphones back on and returned his attention to the in-flight movie. The kiss had sobered her up a little, enough for her to feel all the sting of his rejection.

He remembered her dumping him for Bill? Well, what about him cheating on her with Vivian?
What about that shit, huh?

She angrily turned around in her seat and lowered the armrest back into place between them. They both sat in silence for almost an hour, pretending to ignore one another.

“You know,” she began, jabbing his shoulder, wanting to pick a fight with him when she couldn't stand the silence any longer. He took off his headphones again. “I'm still not convinced that Clarissa and Jared are doing it.”

“Why are we back to this? Cindy, how naïve are you? It's pretty damn obvious that they're doing it! I told you, half of the condoms are gone, and he sure as hell isn't making water balloons with them!”

“Just because he's using condoms, doesn't mean he's been using them with Clarissa! Maybe he's having sex with someone else.”

Korey paused. “Are you calling my boy a man whore?”

She haughtily raised her chin into the air. “Like father, like son.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means! You cheated on me! I see no reason why your son wouldn't cheat on Clarissa.”

“What? When the hell did I ever cheat on you?”

“Oh, please. Don't insult my intelligence, Korey! Less than two months after we broke up, you were engaged to Vivian and she was already pregnant. Are you honestly trying to tell me that was some kind of a sixty-day whirlwind romance, that you weren't seeing her behind my back the whole time?”

His jaw tightened. “I didn't date Viv until you broke up with me to become the trophy wife of some rich man almost twice our age!”

She waved away his denial. “Sure, you didn't. Everyone in school knew she was after you. I did too. I saw the way she looked at you. I just trusted you when you said there was nothing going on between you two.”

“Because there was nothing going on between us!”

“Yeah, right,” she murmured, gazing out the window. “I was gullible back then, Korey, but I'm not anymore. So you can just save it!”

“Fine, believe whatever the hell you want, but I know the truth! I married Viv because she picked my heart up off the ground after you
ran over it!
She offered me a warm embrace and, yes, a warm bed while she was at it. But what did I know? I was eighteen years old! I didn't know any better! So when she came to me in tears and said she was pregnant, what was I supposed to do? I asked her to marry me. I wasn't in love with her, but I thought I owed it to her to marry her after what she did for me!”

Cynthia bit down on her lower lip as she glared at the clouds outside her window. Was he telling the truth?

“And I don't regret my decision,” Korey continued. “My marriage to Viv wasn't the greatest, but we produced a great kid. I love Jared. I'd do anything for him! That's why I'm here.”

She slowly turned to face him. “I love Clarissa too. That's . . . that's why I'm here.”

“Good, so we both agree that's why we're here, for the kids—and that's all. So let's not muddy the water with bullshit about the past.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. He put his headphones back on and glared at the TV screen.

He said not to muddy the water, but it was too late. If he was telling the truth about not cheating on her with Vivian all those years ago, then that changed everything. Cynthia had to see the past in a new light, and she didn't like what she saw.

“Y
ou ready to go in, baby?” Crisanto asked.

Lauren Gibbons-Weaver distractedly looked up at her husband. She forced a smile as she stepped away from their car. “Of course,” she said as he shut her door for her. She then linked her arm through Cris's just as he handed the waiting valet his ECU key to his Aston Martin convertible.

The smiling young man, who had to be no more than eighteen, nodded before eagerly climbing behind the wheel and pausing to admire the car's leather interior and the varnish on the dashboard. He looked practically giddy when the engine purred as he pulled off, leaving Cris and Lauren standing at the foot of an asphalt driveway bordered by two stone lion statues.

Lauren was surprised that there was a valet at this party, considering they were parking at a three-story home on a two-acre lot and not some ritzy restaurant downtown. But she should have known their host would make a big production out of tonight. There was even a red carpet on the brick walkway.

Subtle, Marvin,
Lauren thought sarcastically.

Like many others in Chesterton, Marvin Payton, the owner of a small chain of lawn-care retail stores, had been trying to get into Cris's good graces since Cris moved into town more than two years ago. Marvin had plenty of rich friends, but none were a former star player for the Dallas Cowboys or a Heisman trophy winner like Cris. To count Cris as one of his pals would definitely earn Marvin plenty of respect in town. So Lauren wasn't surprised that Marvin had immediately stepped forward to host a party to help kick off Cris's mayoral run.

“It would be an
honor,
Cris,” Marvin had said a week ago. She thought he might bow or prostrate himself at Cris's feet. “It would be my true honor to host a party for you!”

And it looked like Marvin hadn't spared any expense on the party, judging from the valet, the red carpet, and the live band she could see through the home's bay of windows. She also could see a gaggle of partygoers milling about inside. The place looked packed.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Cris asked. He frowned down at his wife as they made their way up the driveway toward the carpet that led to the colonial's front door.

Lauren nodded. “I'm fine. I'm just . . . you know, a little anxious.”

“Anxious?”

“About the party.” She laughed awkwardly and patted his arm. “You know I'm not very good at hobnobbing. Never have been.”

When he continued to squint down at her, looking incredulous, she pursed her lips.

Lauren had never been very good at hiding things from Cris. He had made it clear early on in their relationship that he didn't want her to ever lie to him, and now that he knew her well enough, he could always see the truth on her face anyway. It was best just to tell him what she was really thinking.

“Okay, maybe I'm more than anxious. I guess I'm closer to worried.”

“About Clarissa?” he rightly guessed.

“About Clarissa
and
Cynthia,” she clarified. “Cindy's really torn up about this, Cris. I've never seen her so hysterical. Even I don't understand why Clarissa would run off to Las Vegas to get married.
Married!
Can you believe it? Has she lost her damn mind?” She shook her head ruefully. “I mean, I get that Clarissa is upset at her mom. Cindy isn't easy to deal with sometimes . . . okay,
a lot
of times. But this is so extreme! And now Cynthia is on a flight to Vegas to find her and stop the . . .”

When Lauren realized she was ranting, her words faded. She sighed.

“I'm sorry, honey. I'm sorry for talking about the usual family drama. I know this is a big night for you. You don't need to hear about all this crap.”

They climbed the short flight of brick stairs. “It's okay. I'm used to it by now. There's never a dull moment in the Gibbons family, is there? You girls like your drama.”

“I'm afraid so, but I warned you in the beginning,” she said playfully, wagging her finger up at him.

“That you did,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss her.

His lips brushed hers just as the colonial's front door swung open.

Lauren had been told that the dress code for tonight was dressy casual, so she had worn a teal eyelet lace sundress and sandals. Cris had on a dress shirt and tan slacks. But the woman standing in the doorway obviously hadn't gotten the dress code memo or had simply ignored it. She had on a slinky black sequined halter gown, garish diamond jewelry, and about two pounds of imported Malaysian weave on her head. She held a wineglass in her hand. A grin was plastered on her red glossy lips.

“And here's the man of the hour!” she gushed. “Mr. Crisanto Weaver himself! Welcome to our home, Cris!”

Lauren fought back a laugh as she watched Judy Payton, their hostess, teeter slightly on her stilettos. Judy stepped back from the door and ushered Cris and Lauren inside her foyer.

The woman had obviously gotten the party started early. She looked like she had had more than just a little to drink.

“Hey, Marv!” she slurred over her shoulder, shouting to be heard over the jazz trio that Lauren had spotted from the driveway. The trio played a Duke Ellington tune on the other side of the room, near the fireplace.

Judy wobbled again as she shut the door behind Cris and Lauren. “Marv! Cris is here, honey bun! Come say hi!”

Cris
and
his wife, Lauren
, Lauren corrected silently. But she kept smiling, giving no hint of her irritation.

She knew how it was. Everyone went out of their way to be nice to her husband, but many chose to either be stiffly polite with her or to ignore her completely. She was a happily married mother and chef. She hadn't chased after a rich man in years, not since her nasty breakup with her abusive ex-boyfriend, James Sayers. She had changed her ways, but many still saw her as nothing more than a ruthless gold digger.

“Welcome!
Welcome!
” Marvin bellowed as he strode across the hardwood floors, shoving through the throng of partygoers to make his way toward Cris. When he reached the towering man, he instantly embraced him. Cris awkwardly hugged him back.

“Cris, I'm so glad you're here!” Marvin cried.

“Thanks for inviting us.”

“Of course! Of course!” He grabbed Cris's elbow. “Let me introduce you to a few people. Councilman Connelly is here. And of course, I have to introduce you to the Murdochs—George and his son, Evan. If you get their approval and support, you've pretty much won the election,” Marvin said, lowering his voice. “I'm sure you know everyone, but just in case you don't, I don't want you to miss the chance to win over potential voters. Am I right?” Marvin loudly laughed, slapped Cris on the back, and attempted to steer him across the foyer toward the living room, but Cris halted and turned toward Lauren instead.

“You're okay on your own?” he whispered into her ear.

She smiled, warmed to know that her husband was so thoughtful and protective of her.

“I'm fine,” she whispered back, shooing him away. “Don't worry about me. Go and win those votes, Future Mayor.”

He nodded, kissed her cheek, and turned back to Marvin. “Lead the way,” he said.

Lauren watched as Marvin guided Cris to a group of men who stood near the living room's entrance.

She turned and found Judy staring at her. The woman's bleary eyes narrowed as she scanned Lauren over the lip of her wineglass. Lauren had seen this stare before. It was usually followed by a sneer, a lip smack, or the mutter of “Can you believe this bitch?” and it was usually directed at her from an angry wife or girlfriend.

“Thank you for hosting the party for Cris,” Lauren said, deciding to play nice. “He's incredibly thankful for the support.”

“Well, Marvin wants to help Cris as much as he can.” Judy paused to sip from her wineglass. “He wants to make sure Cris connects with the
right
kind of people and not just any ol' trash off the street,” she scoffed.

Lauren cocked an eyebrow, wondering if she was the “trash” Judy was referring to. She didn't get the chance to ask. Someone rang the doorbell and Judy turned back toward the door.

“If you'll excuse me,” Judy said before abruptly walking away from Lauren, leaving the young woman standing alone in the middle of the foyer.

Lauren looked around uneasily, watching as those around her engaged in animated conversations. She felt like the high school nerd at the popular kids' party. If the evening continued like this, it was going to be a long night.

Despite the rough start, she managed to make it to the end of the party, knowing that it would look bad for Cris if his wife wanted to walk out before the little shindig was over. She even managed to talk to a few people, avoiding the ones who seemed openly hostile.

When the jazz trio started its third rendition of Ellington's “Take the ‘A' Train,” Lauren glanced at her watch. She saw that it was almost eleven o'clock. She had officially hit her limit of fake smiles and uncomfortable chitchat. It seemed like a good time to leave the party. She tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders and sauntered over to her husband, who stood in the center of a throng of people, retelling one of his football stories. His audience seemed riveted.

She tapped Cris on his broad shoulder. He turned to look at her quizzically.

“Sorry, honey, but we have to head home now.”

“What?”
Marvin looked crestfallen. “You're leaving already? But Cris was just—”

“I told our nanny we'd be back by eleven thirty,” she explained quickly, hoping that using the baby as an excuse would stop any arguments. “I'd hate to be late getting home. She might worry that something is wrong.”

Cris slowly nodded. “She's right. It is getting a little late. We should call it a night.”

“If you think this is late, you should come to one of the council meetings!” drawled a baritone voice from behind them. “The longest one dragged on almost until dawn!”

Lauren turned to find a light-skinned man with a pencil-thin mustache and a long, curly gray mane rivaling Al Sharpton's striding toward them. His matronly–looking wife was at his side, holding her purse in front of her like it was a Trojan shield.

When Lauren saw the couple, she grimaced. It was Thurmond Knightly, longtime mayor of Chesterton and Cris's opponent. Lauren knew Thurmond well because he had once been a close friend of her ex, James Sayers. She could understand why Thurmond and James had been such good buddies: Both men had huge egos and liked to intimidate others with their power and position.

“But I guess if you're not too keen on working past bedtime, you're really not cut out for the job as mayor,” Thurmond continued with a grin and booming laugh that made Lauren cringe. He slapped Cris on the back. “Might as well throw in the towel now. Go home to your bed and your baby, son!”

At that jibe, Lauren instantly felt her blood boil. She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at Thurmond. To Cris's credit, the warm smile didn't leave his handsome face.

“I've got no problem working late into the night. You, on the other hand, should be careful. A man at
your
age should get his rest,” Cris said, thumping Thurmond just as hard between his shoulder blades, making the older man flinch.

Well played, baby,
Lauren thought.
Well played.

“Thurmond,” Marvin said uneasily. Several conversations in the room fell silent as they watched the two men squaring off. Marvin made a furtive glance around him as he nervously cleared his throat. “I-I, uh . . . I didn't know you'd be stopping by.”

Thurmond adjusted his suit jacket lapels. “Of course I had come to your little party, Marvin! Had to welcome the competition!” He turned back to Cris. “But I must say, Cris, I'm surprised you've decided to throw your hat into the ring. Big-time football player and businessman like you . . . I'd think you'd be bored being the mayor of a little ol' town like Chesterton.”

“Why is it a surprise? I've adopted Chesterton as my home. I care about this town. It's a good place, but it could be even better. I could help Chesterton with my know-how . . . you know, help bring it into the twenty-first century.”

Thurmond tilted his head. “You're talking about making changes around here?”

“Why not?”
Cris asked. “The town could be modernized a bit. The same businesses have been on Main Street for decades. We could entice some new blood into town. Maybe work with the Chamber of Commerce to start a business incubator here for start-ups. And while we're at it, some public facilities are in desperate need of improvement. The library on Popular Street doesn't have—”

“Modernization! Change!” Thurmond boomed as he pointed up at Cris. “See, that's where you're wrong, son! That's where you're confused about this town! Chesterton is all about tradition.... Traditional
values . . .
community. . . a sense of morality!”

“Praise the Lord,” his wife cried beside him, closing her eyes and waving her hand slowly like she was in a pew at church.

Lauren frowned. Up until this point, she'd thought the older woman was mute.

“And we need leadership that represents that,” Thurmond continued. “We need a mayor and a mayor's
wife
who represent those values.” He then gave a none-too-subtle side glance to Lauren.

Lauren gaped in amazement.
So he was going to go there, huh?

She wasn't the only one who noticed the little dig. Cris's jovial expression disappeared. He angrily squinted down at Thurmond. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”