Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(103)

It was just the two of us, the length of her leg pressing against mine, her soft hair brushing my shoulder, and I figured now was as good a time as any to let her know I was ready whenever she was.

“Kat.”

“Yes?” She studied her fingers for a sec, then lifted her eyes to mine.

Fuck me, but I could drown in her eyes. It wasn’t just that they were gorgeous, it was everything behind them—the smarts, the goodness, the toughness, the compassion—and they made me stupid when we were this close.

So I spelled it out. “Let me know if you want to take the lead, or if you want me to.”

Nice finesse, dumbass.

I would’ve rolled my eyes at myself, but I didn’t want to look away from her.

Her lips parted, and she blinked, like I’d surprised her. I’d been blunt, so perhaps I did. I watched her swallow, her stare dropping to my mouth, her eyes swirling with a shitload of emotion.

I thought she was going to kiss me.

Instead, she nodded, gave me a forced smile—making me suspect she didn’t trust her voice, or didn’t trust herself around me—and said, “Okay. I’ll, uh, let you get back to work.”

With that, she stood like she was in a hurry, grabbed her phone, and on bare feet silently walked to the door.

She opened it. She left. She closed it.

Meanwhile, I sat there, staring at the far wall and wondering why I was now alone rather than making out with my wicked amazing, wicked smart, wicked hot wife on the discipline couch.

Fuck my life.

Picking up my cell, I returned Alex’s call. I figured if I couldn’t be helping her feel good, I could do something to help her in general.

Three rings later, he hadn’t picked up. I was just about to end the call when Sandra’s voice said, “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me. Alex there?”

“He stepped out.”

“Oh.” I sighed, real loud. Because I’m frustrated, OKAY? “I’ll call back later.”

“What’s wrong?” The sound of plates being stacked sounded from her side of the call. “Is Kat okay?”

“She’s . . . fine.”

Sandra didn’t say anything for a second, and it sounded like she’d stopped stacking the plates. “How is she dealing with the loss of her father?”

“Actually, she seems okay about it. After the first day, she was fine.” I scratched at a little mark on the couch that looked like it had been made with a Sharpie.

“And your mom? Are she and Kat getting along?”

“Yeah.” I laughed, knowing I sounded a little bitter. “They’re getting along great.”

“Hmm . . .” Sandra paused again, and I thought she was about to say goodbye.

So I said, “Tell Alex to ca—”

“Has she orgasmed yet?”

And I choked. “What?”

“Please tell me you’ve been helping her with the orgasm thing.”

“Fuck, Sandra!”

“No. Not Sandra. Fuck Kat, Dan. She needs you more than me.” She sounded so calm.

I choked again.

And then I laughed.

And then I choked.

“I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Don’t hang up!” she shouted, but then lowered her voice to say, “You should talk to me about this because I can help you. I can help you both. I can give you help-able facts that will be so helpful.”

I sat forward on the edge of my seat, gripping my forehead with my fingers. “Seriously, I can’t talk to you about this. This is her deal. If she wants to discuss it with you, then she will. It’s not up to me.”

“Then will you listen? And for the record, she has talked to me about it.”

“Oh? Really?” I didn’t try to disguise my disbelief.

“Yes. Really. How else would I know it’s an issue?”

She had me there.

“Dan. Please. Let me give you some perspective and advice. Please. You don’t have to say anything, you don’t even have to answer any questions. Just. Listen.”

I glanced at the wall clock behind the desk and shook my head. “Fine. You have ten minutes.”

“Yay! Thank you. Okay. Ahem.” I heard a chair scrape against the floor, like she was taking a seat to get comfortable. “Have you ever experienced any sexual performance or anxiety issues?”

I stared at the wall clock.

And then I blinked.

And then I frowned.

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck did you just ask me?”

“Let me back up a bit.” She sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “We’ve all seen those commercials on TV, advertising medication to help with male sexual performance issues, right?”

I nodded, my frown persisting. “Yeah. So?”