The Knight Brothers

10

Chapter Ten

April

Ten Months Ago

The bass of AC/DC's "Back in Black" thumps, the beat setting a new rhythm for my heart. I let it thrum through me. Enjoy getting lost in it. Tonight, at Peppy's, it's karaoke night. It's supposed to be a once-a-month event on Friday nights, but somehow it's turned into more of an every-other-week event. I think somehow Jordan popularized that a few months back.

"Beer or Captain tonight?" Jordan's question whispered in my ear makes me shiver with lust. I feel his knowing smile against my cheek. One hand skates up my side. He rests his thumb right underneath the mound of my breast. Now, I'm practically trembling. He starts chuckling, muted and sexy.

We turned the corner last week. Granted, we haven't had a lot of it, but we had the best sex we've ever had after I blew him on the back porch. It was rough and dirty in the shower before turning sweet and sensual in the bedroom. He fulfilled his promise of making love all night long. Four o'clock came around pretty damn early the next morning. And it turns out Helena may very well have caught our little show because she hasn't looked me in the eye since. She moved faster than any eighty-one-year-old with a bad hip should have when we met at the mailbox. She was clearly trying to dodge me.

"Barley pop," I tell him on a grin. I want to keep my head clear tonight, hoping for a repeat. Some people swear drinking improves their performance, but I think it dulls the senses too much. I want to feel every slow stroke into me. Ride that glorious wave to the top and let it crash over me, reveling in the too-swift rush of euphoria that's harder to reach and even shorter when too much alcohol flows through you. I want to actually enjoy making love to my husband, not just get through it like I have been since we've been married.

"Barley pop it is, Swan." The corner of his mouth lifts at our inside joke as he walks away.

"You guys and your weird sayings."

I just shrug, eyes glued to Jordan's backside.

When I was six, he stole a Bud heavy from his father's garage fridge and tricked me into drinking it. He told me it was "barley pop" and see...I loved pop. My parents didn't buy it because "it will rot your teeth," they said. I wasn't generally naïve, even at six, but he knew I'd be a sucker for this prank. But the joke was on him. He got a face full of foamy beer and the rest of the "barley pop" ended up soaked into the mulch of the forest floor.

"You look happy, April. So does Jordan for that matter. And I mean newlywed, I'm-getting-the-shit-banged-out-of-me happy."

I tear my stare away from my husband's fine ass, which is molded perfectly in his dark-wash jeans, I might add, when MaryLou's slides a finger under my mouth and closes it. She grins. So do I. I feel it reach my eyes and dive into my soul.

"I am." I shift toward MaryLou, tucking my right foot under the thigh of my left leg, and take the few minutes we'll have by ourselves all night to dump out my soul. I keep an eye out for Jordan and Larry just in case. "Some days are harder than others, though."

The edges of MaryLou's mouth fall into a sad smile.

"Like Monday?"

"Yeah, like Monday." This past Monday was Jon's thirty-first birthday. I didn't call. Didn't text. Didn't even send an impersonal Facebook post. I pretended it was a regular ol' day. I patted myself on the back, but stewed in that decision all night, wondering if I'd hurt his feelings. Would he think I was acting childish? Did I care if he did? I hated that the answer was yes.