I haven’t been back an hour before they descend, along with Nana and her new love, not so virgin martinis.
“Nana! You shouldn’t be drinking with your medication,” I yell, grabbing the drink from her bony hand and downing it before she can rise. “Josey! Can you please lock the liquor away!”
“She’s been this way since the wedding. I swear to God, that old lady has more apples than all of us put together,” Chris mutters affectionately, returning Nana’s air kiss.
I roll my eyes and glare, fighting the urge to laugh. Put these two together and you’re sure to have mayhem. Not so great for me, but then, the old bird is seventy-three, and spoiling all her fun is not on my agenda.
What is, is that rat bastard I married.
Good grief, is the man stubborn.
“So he goes all Tarzan on you and ‘you my property,’” Chris says, doing a great caveman impression. “And then what?”
“Weeell…” I eye Nana and wince.
“I have a vagina too, you know.”
God help me, after what I’ve seen, I’m not likely to forget.
“Okay, well, things led to their…natural conclusion. Obviously,” I aver, shrinking at the thought of discussing sex in front of my nymph Nana. “It was good, too. What happened afterwards, not the…okay, well, that was awesome,” I say, sighing dreamily.
“Stop sex replaying and tell us!” Lena demands, and I cut my visual memory short in order to recap my horrible honeymoon.
“We had dinner and went to bed…ya know. And then the next morning he carried on as if nothing had happened. Back to work and ignoring me, and…I spent the next seven days watching three cougars have a go at the barman on deck two.”
I still shudder just thinking of what the four of them had on the day I’d seen them sneaking off together. Talk about instant libido killer.
“That’s it?”
“Yup. I spent all day waffling around before going back for dinner and his customary night games. During the day it was work, no compromise. The jealousy thing worked only so far before he went back to his routine. I even tried the whole masturbating in the bathroom thing you told me about, Lena. Nada.”
Even Nana gasps and looks like she just smelled something bad, telling me loud and clear how well it should have worked.
“Why, I can’t believe it. That old trick worked on your grandfather a time or two. I remember the day I saw him talking to that neighbor woman, Velma, and I got so jealous. I waited for him to come inside, and then I went to the bathroom and—”
“Whoa! Nooo, no, no, no. TMI, Nana!” I yell, blocking my ears with a shriek.
“Oh, now, Hannah dear, we’re all women here.”
“Except me, apparently. What’s wrong with me?” I groan, keeling over to shove my face into a cushion.
If that trick could work for my gray old grandmother, there must be something seriously wrong with me. I mean, I’ve done everything but actually rub my naked vagina in his face, and still, nothing.
“Nothing, sweetheart. He’s just playing hard to get. Know what I think?” Chris asks, and I sit up to see her eyes take on a very unhealthy sparkle. “I think you’ve made things too easy for him. Throwing the goods in his face is all fine and good, but it’s stupid — no offense, Lena — to try and outplay a player like Gregory.”
Heh. Maybe she’s right.
“So you think I should what? Stop having sex with him?”
They all snort and I blush at that kernel of idiocy. Yeah right, like he’d ever allow that. I’d be seduced and fucked in under a minute flat, and we all know it. The man is just that good. And super sexy.
“No, dummy. You make yourself physically available and keep the emotional shit locked down tighter than a miser’s purse. You’re too…easy right now,” she says with an apologetic grimace. “You’ve basically shouted your love from the rooftops, which makes him thinks he’s got nothing to worry about.”
“Yes, dear. Rule number one: never give everything right off the bat. You should have left him to simmer in his own juices. The moment he started questioning your commitment, he would have started worrying, which always makes men go the extra mile.”
The others nod sagely, and I pull a face, acknowledging my stupidity. Thanks a lot, heart, and big fat mouth, for royally screwing everything up.
“Great. I’ve already spilled the big ole beans. I’m doomed,” I moan, covering my face with a curse.
“Not necessarily,” Lena coos, and I look up with the eagerness of a student at the knee of its master. Or a dog, your choice.
“No, indeed, your avowal of love this early on could just work in your favor. Have you said it again, recently, dearest?”