I lean in closer, feeling her skin, still hot from sunbathing. Inhaling her scent. “Yes.”
The clack of heels grows louder.
“I can start now,” she says, her eyes on mine. “If your mother catches us doing nasty things out by the pool, maybe she’ll leave us alone.”
“Ha. Ha.” I gently push her off my lap and give her a teasing smack. “Towel on, do not show yourself to anyone, and go get some clothes on, too.”
“I hear and obey. Can I help with anything? It gets tiresome doing nothing but sitting around looking pretty, you know.”
I haven’t given her any jobs yet because I’ve wanted to make her comfortable and I wanted to see how she’d behave.
But maybe it would be nice to have myself a First Lady, someone to make sure shit gets done…
“How are they getting here from the airport?” she asks. Tampa International is only about forty-five minutes from here. The clicking of heels is right outside this patio, but she pretends as if she doesn’t hear it at all.
“Romeo rented a car.”
She nods. “And when will they be here?”
“Around five. We’ll have a quick dinner together before everyone else arrives at seven.”
The sliding glass door opens and my mother strolls out, her chin in the air and head held high.
“Hello,” she says with a chilling smile before she gives Marialena a once-over. Marialena looks at me, her hand on the edge of her towel, and I know she wants to shock her so badly. I give her one stern shake of my head. So help me, I don’t care if her brothers are coming, if she—
Grinning at me, she winks, then turns to my mother, walks straight toward her, and tosses her arms up in the air. My mother shrinks back, cringing, but Marialena goes off full throttle. “Howareyou? What would you like me to call you, by the way? Agnesia? Mother? Or is Mom appropriate?”
She tosses her arms around my mother’s rigid shoulders as if she’s completely oblivious to the fact my mother’s standing as still as a mannequin.
My mother shoots me a furious look, but I only smile and shrug. “My new wife’s effusive,” I say, which she actually isn’t, but I like her style and I’m game for playing along with this. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
My wife draws back and kisses my mother’s cheek. My mother’s eyes grow wide and she looks at me helplessly, but Marialena’s heading my way now.
“He’s making me wear this towel because apparently my bikini isn’tappropriate,”she says with a little pout. “What a shame to live on the Gulf of Mexico and have to wear ahousecoat.”
Next, she tosses her arms around me and gives me a loud kiss straight on the lips. “I’m going to get ready, honey bun. You need anything?”
“I’m good,” I say, coughing to hide my laughter from my mother.
“Toodles!” She wags her fingers at me and saunters past my mother.
Mother looks at me, her mouth gaping. I grin at her and shove my hands in my pockets. “Lovely, isn’t she?” I don’t think I’ve ever, in recent history anyway, grinned at my mother.
She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her eyes follow the retreating figure of Marialena before she looks back at me. “She’s—”
I lean in and give her a calculating stare. “If you say anything—literallyanything—that’s less than respectful and kind about my wife, I will toss you into that pool behind me. Got it?”
I stalk past her, ignoring her protests and sputtering. I kind of enjoy the thought of her looking like a drowned rat when our guests begin to arrive.
Kiss. My. Ass.
I join Marialena up in our bedroom to get ready, but instead end up predictably distracted. She finally manages to persuade me to get ready for the party after assuaging my need to have her in the shower. She said it would kill two birds with one stone—shower and sex—and she wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I tell her, stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel.
“To what?”
“Beautifying or whatever the fuck.”