Knot a Liar (Knotted Up Book 1) (10 page)

Hmmmm. Patricia isn’t worth it. That’s a weird, scary and unnerving thought. If she isn’t worth it, then what am I doing?

“… and I love that scent on you. What is it?”

Leaning on the door jamb, arms crossed, feet directly on the threshold of my room, Sam looks comfortable in the spot as if he’s been there for some time. “Did you watch me get dressed?”

“Yes.” I’m not sure how to feel about that especially with him watching my face watching for a reaction, no doubt.

“Boobs out and all?” Pointing toward my bra– only clad chest, I say, “I thought these were you biggest fear, besides clowns.”

Lips stretched out to form a straight line, teeth remaining hidden, Sam straightens his body and says, “The question– what is that scent?”

“Jasmine and freesia. One of my favourites too. Is that why you used so much in the water?”

“I haven’t taken a bath since I was what, I don’t know, eight, ten? I’m a shower guy, so I don’t know how much to use to.”

Slipping on my top I say, “You could’ve read the label.”

“Yeah, but that would’ve taken too long.”

I dragged on my pyjama bottoms before I say, “You have much to learn grasshopper. I’m grooming you for your second wife– or husband. Where are your things?” I lead Sam out the bedroom into the living room to see two medium sized pizza boxes. I guess he picked up along the way. Must be on the way because I certainly didn’t hear the doorbell or any knocking.

“Closet in the guest room or should I say office. So, what are we watching before the pizza gets cold?”

“The Notebook.”

Forehead wrinkled, Sam says, “The what now?” He picks up the DVD case to read the blurb. “Never heard of this one.”

“Bite your tongue! This is only the greatest romance movie ever made. What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry. Didn’t realise it was an essential chick flick. Haven’t seen a movie without guns, blood and guts in a few years.”

“Well it is and I have a few more over there.”

Sam groans when I point toward my DVD collection.

After eating I snuggle into Sam’s side which brings a comfort I’m getting used to accepting and appreciating. He drapes the blanket over us, covering me with most of it. I sit half watching a movie I could probably quote lines from if warranted while secretly wishing that Sam could be mine, the same way Noah and Allie were destined to be with each other.

I steal glances loving the way his eyes and his hair have the same deep brown chocolaty colour. Unable to keep myself from temptation any longer, I reach up, running my hands through his hair, which as much as he tries, he could never keep out of those beautiful eyes. I further melt into him when he starts stroking my arm. Up and down, repeatedly, in sweet sensual delight. I try to steady my breathing. Taking deep, measured breaths, refusing to let him know just how much his touch in effectual and tantalizing.

He smiles down on me. His expression soft but fierce, holding a secret I’m not privy to learn.

Sighing, I turn to watch the movie, a consolation prize to what I truly desire tonight.

I fall asleep on Sam, watching The Notebook, only to be nudged later that night.

A whisper caresses my ear. “Hey, time for bed.”

I get up, feeling horrible from my position on the couch. “Movie’s finished?” Stretching the bunched up muscles, I arch my back, arms over head, feeling immediate relief before reaching down to touch my toes.

Sam clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him. “Yeah, which reminds me we didn’t get to finish your lesson today.”

Taking his outstretched hand, Sam leads me to my bedroom. “My lesson? What are you talking about?”

His voice drops a register, taking on a deeper, sultrier tone. “Well, yeah. Don’t tell me you forgot. We need to fine tune our kissing. You know for my family and appearances’ sake.”

“You were really serious about that?” Please say yes.

“Yeah and it’s time for lesson one.” Hooded eyes pierce through me, questioning my resolve and commitment.

Nodding, Sam leans over and kisses my mouth– not closed lipped– an open-mouthed kiss. The back of my knees hit the side of the bed before I find myself on my back, with Sam on top of me. I didn’t even realize we were moving.

This leaves me confused and wanting more. I hold his face, pulling glory to me and kiss him with every need I have poured into the kiss. Sam’s lips caress mine with such fervency and fiery warmth.

Then, his lips, his touch slows down, becoming more erotic, becoming more sensual, becoming more needed. Like meteors blazing across the atmosphere, desire blazes through me, burning, consuming all apprehensions, all unknowns, leaving clarity of thought.

I want Sam and I’ll take whatever I can get, for whatever time I can get it.

As he manages to gentle the fiery storm; I enjoy the brief taste of heaven before Sam pulls away only to at once return.

Feeling the temptation heightening and my will power weakening, I turn my body over to Sam for him to do whatever he wants with it.

My body experiences a sudden change, a strange sensation. One of an all– consuming nature. And whatever Sam is offering tonight, I am willing to receive.

[
10
]

Ten Spent Common Sense

“Alright, honeymoon over. What are we going to do about Patricia?”

A scrunched up nose, winkled forehead and a deep guttural, orgasm inspiring groan are Sam’s only responses.

Get your mind out of Sam’s pants, Jodi. Breathe. “I know, but we have to deal with this mess before she gets to your parents.”

“I’m not ready to have my father disown me. I actually like my parents; I want to keep seeing them.”

Turning my head I see the glory of the sunrise making the place alight with an aura of romance. Ooh good line. Note to self: word count for book number 2 now up to… 45. Progress.

Sam stands in the kitchen, arms crossed with his back pressed up against the wall by the sink. The sun pouring in through the window catches the hairs that dance in the gentle wind flowing over the sink. His abs, naked and lightly dusted with hair heading south, are firm to the point of stiff even when relaxed. The backlighting from the window creates a halo makes Sam look like the spitting image of Adonis. Now I don’t know what Adonis looked like, but I swear on my life, he could not look better than this.

I have an un-nail-able god-man for a husband standing in my home. Life really isn’t fair. Although that scorching make-out session last night did even out things a bit more. I’ll never look at my bed the same way again and I now have a set of lucky pyjamas. But still. He remains undoable. So logically, not much is working in my favour.

Who would’ve thought the only man completely off limits to me is my husband?

We need to talk about an open relationship, if Sam is going to keep winding me up with no prospect of release. While I really don’t want any other man right now, I have to keep in mind that a future without sex isn’t all that appealing. Imagine that my husband and I going on the prowl for a boyfriend a piece. I should be appalled by such thoughts, but the only thing that worries me is the idea of Sam with someone else. Anyone else.

“Then take today off work,” I say moving from the stove to fill the coffee pot, “I have a strong feeling that the key to getting rid of her rests in a conversation with Max. That’s the part that puzzles me. Why would he lie for her in the first place?”

“Good point. Are you going to talk to your friend today? Not Grace, the other one. Umm…”

“Alex?” He nods. I sigh. “I don’t know. She has to come around on her own time. I don’t want to push her away any further.”

“Well, le–”

The phone’s speaker roars to life belting out Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. I pick up the phone, seeing Alex’s name on the screen. I look over to see Sam watching me as I mouth ‘Alex’.

Shrugging Sam points to the phone, “Then answer it. I’m gonna take a shower.”

I nod as he leaves, then answer the call. “Hi.”

“Hey… ummm, I want to apologize for flipping out yesterday, but I can’t. Not when I don’t know what’s going on. I’m lost. I– I–” 

Alex doesn’t apologize often. There is no need when you are mostly right, hence the skill being unpractised.

Sighing I say, “I know, I never said anything to you or Grace.”

“Do you love him or even have feelings for him?”

Carnal desires? That’s a definite yes. Feelings? Maybe, but that would just highlight my despair. In love? Hmmmm. “Alex, he’s gay.” Yeah, that’s a safe segue.

An audible gasp precedes “Wait, what?”

“He’s gay. I married him as a favour, nothing more.”

“Okay…”

“Sam didn’t marry for love. We got married because he couldn’t take over his parents company unless he or his brother got married. Max made a mess of that as well, so really we had no choice.”

The sneer clear in the reply as Alex says, “No. He didn’t have a choice. You did. You just chose wrong.”

I shudder at Alex’s tone. “Actually, his parents thought we were married before he found out about the company and the impending state of his bachelorhood coming to an end. So… the logical choice was to get hitched.” At least I think that was logic Sam and I used.

“Why would his parents think you guys were married? You only went to the reunion and a play with him. Those don’t even count as dates. You didn’t even know about his existence last month!”

“Just a nasty rumour that got to his parents. Before we could straighten it out, Peter–”

“Peter?”

“His dad. Peter told him he’s stepping down and handing over the company.”

Alex’s voice rises with each word as she contemplates my predicament. “But who would spread such a rumour, who would tell such a nasty lie?”

“…” Hmmm… a visit to the spa for a massage sounds enticing. All this stress needs to be relieved one way or the other.

“Jodi…”

“Fine, it was us! Sam told Patricia we were married to shut her up and I went with it.” If I disappear now, I should be safe.

“This is why I’m never having children. You people never listen. Didn’t I tell you to go alone? Going alone meant that none of this mess would’ve happened. Going alone meant that you could tell Patricia to piss off. Going alone meant that you wouldn’t be married to someone who probably can’t stand the sight or thought of a vagina. Going alone meant that your life is now on hold for however how long the farce is required. And all of that was to save face in front of Patricia? Really? Wait, the marriage does have a time limit, right? You’re not stuck in this forever?”

My voice quiets down as I say, “Yes. Eighteen months. Alex, Sam’s sweet and kind and funny and charming. He’ll be good company, a pleasant companion until the divorce.”

“Jodi, you have to tell me these things. Don’t shut me out and leave me in the dark. This isn’t us. We tell each other everything. I feel like I’m losing you.”

“You’re not. Telling you meant that the marriage wouldn’t happen. Probably also meant that we wouldn’t be caught by Patricia.”

“How does Patricia come into the picture?”

“Patricia caught us leaving the chapel in Vegas. She was lying her ass off. She isn’t married, either. She was pretending Max– Sam’s brother– was her husband. It blew up in her face on Sunday.”

“Sunday? What happened Sunday?”

Scratching my hair that doesn’t itch, I say, “Uhh… I kinda had dinner with Sam’s parents. Patricia and Max were there too. Just as Sam was about to speak the truth, Max told his own truth. Sam’s parents had a fit– or were on the verge of having one– which left us with no choice but to get married.”

“Wait, hold on.” A heavy sigh comes through the speakers. “I feel like I’m smack in the middle of a whole world of crazy. I need time to catch up. Grace should be here to sort through this mess you and Sir Dumbass created. I’m on stupid overload. What is wrong with you people?! You and Patricia are so toxic for each other. I feel like smacking you both over the head, put you in the naughty corner and tell you both to just move on. High school is over! College is long gone!” Forcing out a deep gust of air Alex says, “I can’t handle this alone. I admit defeat. Jodi, you truly are special and I don’t mean that nicely this time.”

“Hey!”

“That’s the truth– deal with it. Meet us at Grace’s apartment this evening by 6. Did you know that she’s still bitching about that damn lasagne? We need to tell her that the only thing she’s good at is nothing more than cardboard soaked in mud.”

A smile flitters on my lips. “I know. You’d think she’d get the hint by now when she’s only one who’s eating.”

“I’m serious Jodi. I’m signing her up for cooking classes for her birthday next month. I don’t care how much it will hurt her feelings. I’m tired of having bellyaches, nausea and diarrhoea from anything she cooks.”

“Alex, that’s mean.”

“Look at it this way– I’m sparing her from very probable grief and guilt over the murder of her best friends at her own hands. She might poison us one day for real. How do you think she’ll feel then?”

I can do nothing to stop the loud belly laugh escaping. “Whatever you say, babe. See you later. I love you and thanks”.

“I love you too, you crazy, crazy girl. And I’m sorry.”

“Aah, no worries. Bye.”

“So I’m guessing everything’s good now.”

I turn to see Sam putting down his coffee mug and finishing off a sandwich he made. Fully dressed in dark jeans and a light brown, long sleeved button down shirt, Sam looks scrumptious.

Pushing off the kitchen counter, Sam walks over to me. Cupping my cheek while using the pad of his thumb to leave light caresses on my skin, he says. “Will I see you later?”

Inhaling deeply and allowing his scent to once again take over, I say, “Maybe much later. We’re having girl’s night tonight. You could pick me up. If– if you have the time and want to, I mean if you’re busy, then okay, I’ll get a taxi, like–”

Sam’s lips descend on mine like I would imagine snow falling to ground. Soft, but instead of cold, Sam’s lips are warm, sweet from the coffee and enhanced by his glorious essence. Bathing in Sam, I forget time, place and purpose. My sensors get fried, being discarded to get replaced by what Sam leaves as he pulls away to rest his head on mine as we take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“I’ll be picking you up later. I know where Grace lives. I dropped her off more than once when she lost her keys.”

“Wait…” I take a step back from Sam, unwrapping his arms from me. “You drop her off sometimes? But I thought…” Too many things keep not adding up with Sam. If he’s right, then… “You’re the slut?”

Sam’s entire face scrunches up. “Savannah says I’m slut? Why, why would she say that?”

Looking down at my feet, I try to recall the conversations Grace, Alex and I have had about ‘The Slut’. “Savannah says at the rate you run through women, if you were a girl, you would’ve had a dozen kids by now. She’s always wondered if you’re riddled with diseases. Are you?! Oh crap! I’ve kissed you so many times, I might’ve caught something.”

Oh, this isn’t good. Oh crap, I need a doctor.

Sam’s hand rise up as is stopping traffic before falling to his side. “Hey, hey, hey! Max and others drops her off sometimes too. Over the two years I’ve known Grace, a lot of different guys have dropped her off at home. And no, I’m not riddled with diseases. I’ve never caught an STI in my life!”

“But, but you’re gay! You don’t sleep with women, at least you’re not supposed to!”

Sam looks away and down at his bare feet. Beautiful bare feet. Model– envying bare feet. Is there any dang part of this man that isn’t perfect?! There has to be something to make him less drool–worthy. Him being gay is obviously not enough a scuff mark for me. What am I thinking? I’m upset. His feet are irrelevant, no matter how gorgeous.

Sam’s phone starts buzzing but he makes no moves to get it. Is that a lover?

Really thinking of everything, I feel like the air has been sucked out of me in that moment. I take a huge gulp of oxygen try reinflate my deflated lungs at a nauseating suspicion. “Oh crap, you’re one of those ‘on the down low’ guys, aren’t you?” Crap! What’s happening to my life?

Again his phone starts going off, but still he ignores it.

“No!” Sam takes out his phone, looks at the screen at puts the phone down on the kitchen counter and takes a step towards me. “Listen, I didn’t want to say it like this but,” With a harsh exhale, Sam continues, “Jodi–”

Once more his phone starts to buzz and with the level of annoyance running through me already, that phone just made it to the top of my kill list.

Sam looks at his phone and a pinched expression eclipses his features. He sighs–an exaggerated one–and rubs at his brow as if to ward off a headache. “Dammit! Look, Jodi, I’m not–”

The incessant buzzing from Sam’s phone again amplifies my irritation and I wonder if he would be upset if I threw it in the blender and set it on pulse.

Shoulders slumped, Sam closes his eyes, nods once, reopens them to continue, “I’m not g–”

Crap, that buzzing has to stop before I snap! “Answer the damn phone! It’s annoying!”

“It can wait. It’s Dad calling for a meeting we have this morning. Jodi–”

Once more that annoying piece of technology goes off signalling the end of our conversation.

“Go. I need to think.”

Sam looks at me, as I turn around leaving for the bedroom. Just before going out of earshot I hear Sam say in a sharp tone, “Dad. I’m leaving Jodi’s. I’ll be there in–”