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Trust IV
“Blue… Off already?” releasing his grip on the woman, she took a cursory few steps back, almost tripping on the heels of her shoes. With dark hair and deep-set eyes, it seemed the only difference between Christopher and his son was the markings where time and age had taken its toll. They wore the same sneer as though it had been burned into their face and squared their shoulders in much the same way. As she returned the man’s firm smile and crossed her arms to brace the cold, Blue fought against the creeping notion that her destiny was to follow in Sandra’s footsteps as the blonde trophy wife. The only difference between them, of course, would be the fact Blue’s firstborn wouldn’t have Richard’s hair or eyes—they would be Vincent’s. “I was hoping we’d get the chance to talk,”
“Yeah, I have to get home,” Meeting the man’s firm gaze and studying the eyes that bore such resemblance w
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Shady Blue Trust V
By the time Blue had made it home, she’d soaked half through the dress she hadn’t the energy to take to the dry cleaners and would much rather ruin in the washing machine. The awning of the restaurant had done little to protect her from the eastern-slanted rain that slipped beneath the roofing just to drench her. Her car had taken five minutes too long to arrive, time enough for her hair to stick to her face and goosebumps to set in. Yet meeting the gaze of the man who sat on the couch in a pair of enviously dry slacks and a sweater she’d kill for, she couldn’t help but mirror the grin he instantly offered. “I told you to let me buy you a car,” As he spoke, his arms opened almost instinctively, chest aching as she kicked her shoes to the side and made a careful approach. Aching with longing and lust and the deepest affection he had yet felt. Things he failed to vocalize. Things yet so constant. “I’m soaking, I’ll ruin your clothes,” Though she offered some refusal,
Shady Blue Chapter Seventeen I
The pair had kept one another up far too long the night before to muster any energy for cooking. Sat at the kitchen island, knees touching like a pair of high school sweethearts after their first sweet yet somewhat disappointing quickie and breaths smelling rather suspiciously stale and of sex, Blue found it rather hard to concentrate on her breakfast cereal. With that, Vincent was in agreeance.He wasn’t as disappointed in himself for such a late start to the day as he would have been two months prior, sans Blue. Instead, he found the time to relish in the charm of Special K at one in the afternoon. Rather, the sight of his wife with tangled hair and his own tee-shirt hanging loose on her shoulders inside-out. Milk dripping from the corner of her mouth in a way that made him think of something else entirely. Suddenly, he wanted no less than to bend her over the kitchen counter and rail her as he had time and time again. “Can I ask you something?”
Shady Blue Chapter Seventeen II
Blue, for once in her life, hadn’t been ridiculously overdressed. Stood beside the petite blonde woman almost half a foot shorter and certainly far smaller, she was sure she could wear her wedding gown and still feel underdressed. Dressed in a brown floral two-piece with a top that hardly covered her swelling breasts and skirt that hung from her ribs to her ankles, she was certain she could look the part of wealthy heiress she had been so well prepared to play. But looking at Sandra’s suit and luxury camisole peeking out from beneath, Blue couldn’t help but wish she’d traded her colossal canvas wedge heels for a pair of sneakers… she’d certainly feel all the same; plain, unextraordinary.Staring at the third blouse Sandra had pointed out with the same forced smile she could barely muster, Blue wondered how much more pretending she could take for the sake of making the woman like her. Or even why she was trying to win her
Shady Blue Chapter Seventeen III
Breaching the doorway, Vincent took in the sight he dreaded; Blue asleep.Back turned to him, light from the bathroom streaming steadily onto her back and carving out the spine peering from beneath her lifted camisole, he hadn’t the heart to eyefuck the ass on full display to him. Instead, he made a slow approach and drew the comforter that had ridden down to her feet over her hips—and sigh with relief as the woman grunted and turned to face him.Squinting into the light, she smiled softly—an expression quickly stolen by disappointment and a firmed frown. “You were meant to be home by eight—we were going to have dinner,”Sinking to a crouch bedside his wife, Vincent began to coax the knotted hair from the woman’s eyes. “I know, Richard had to travel so I had to pick up his slack,” The man spoke bitterly, as though his hatred for the man couldn’t grow further. Yet it had.“‘Travel
Shady Blue Chapter Seventeen IV
Staring at the whites of the ocean she could hardly see through the veil of night, Blue felt father cheated that the wait at the drive-through for dinner had stolen the sunset view Vincent promised so eagerly. Yet, despite that, she did find refuge in the city lights that twinkled from the peninsula’s bend as though peering coyly over New York’s very shoulder. Blinking rapidly with each twinkle. The smoke plume and fiery wick of a distant factory its exhale. And somehow, however slightly, the sight of the moon breaking through the clouds as though it was lone gnocchi surfacing from its murky, boiling water soothed the pretentious aesthete that had roused after Vincent had played David Attenborough instead of Mayday that afternoon. Turning to glance at her husband who sat quietly, his burger little more than a crumpled wrapper in the cupholder between them, she decided that co-existing with someone else wasn’t quite as awful as she had always thought it to
Shady Blue Richard The I
Blue found no joy in admitting that she spent more time with Sandra than she did with her own husband in recent times. Vincent left before she awoke; planted a gentle kiss on his sleeping wife’s shoulder before he dressed silently. He’d return by the time she begrudgingly fell asleep, that much she had gathered. Staring at the sleeping man as she awoke mid-sleep for reasons that eluded still, she admittedly wondered if Richard had succeeded in keeping them apart sans some diabolical scheme.But the dates that she longed for at a quiet cafe had become brunch with her mother-in-law; the change room quickies she’d enjoyed once upon a time had been traded for designer handbag shopping and tiny sandwiches. There was only so much “watching her figure” for the wedding she could feign before pregnancy nausea began to look like anorexia.“What are you doing at university, darling?” the question alone was enough to make Blue clam up with
Shady Blue Richard The II
Vincent had been staring for quite some time.Bordered by a simple frame sat a photograph that did far more harm than it did good. Blazoned by twisting silver arms, his wife’s smile enclosed in its abstract metal frame, peered back a woman so innocent. Bright blue eyes narrowed. Nose scrunched. Shoulders hidden by a tangle of blankets. Glittering wedding bands clutching the duvet over her chin. From their honeymoon. The rather last-minute trip he’d never felt more intentional. Days on end of lying in bed with his woman, hiding from the cruelness that had become her fortunes. Richard had been forgotten. All that mattered those few days were concerns over which restaurants they’d have time for or what films would best put them to sleep.It was hard to believe they’d married in secret, no matter how necessary it had been. He’d battled the urge to confess what he’d felt on the balcony the night they met. How as their lips met that first
Shady Blue Richard The III
“Any last words?” Staring down at his wife, Vincent smiled softly. Her face bright with a nervous blush. Lips red and bitten. Cracked, dry. Hair tangled where his own hands had wrapped. Mock neck blouse covering the blossoming bruises from his teeth creeping up her chest. Skirt creased where she had sat on his lap. She smiled back. Leaned towards him invitingly. An invitation he found rather difficult to refuse. “It’s not too late to leave,” “We’re already here, Blue,” “That’s for me to worry about,” “You stole my line.” “You weren’t using it.” “No one likes a smart ass,” Quickly, he took the woman’s face in his hands. Pressed his nose to hers. Breathed her every breath. Considered kissing her, stood at her mother’s doorstep. They’d be on the awkward first date they never had. Vincent would walk her to the door, fingers brushing, far too shy to twist his hand with hers. He would wrap her in his coat; give her a reason to telephone him
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