Ainslee leans in for the scoop. “Like what?”
“Like the shit he says publicly.” I try to sober up my mind to think for a beat. “Like when we were in Fairhope. He asked me my favorite flavor and I told him strawberries and cream. His response was he’d say my pussy tastes like strawberries and cream but he’s allergic.”
Ainslee starts laughing so hard she puts her flat iron down so she doesn’t hurt herself.
“Sounds like Jagger.”
“Yeah! He almost killed the ice cream guy. Instead of running out and going home - something I’m sure I would have done pre-Jagger, I just clarified that he was allergic to strawberries and not my pussy - which is a word I rarely used before marrying the crazy man.”
Ainslee is still laughing at my husband’s shenanigans. “If we’d known each other better before, I would have warned you. His mouth is insane.” She resumes straightening her hair. “Oran’s is too.”
I nod thinking about the things he’s said in passing with a straight face. “Another thing I’ve learned. I used to wonder what they talked about because they seem so different on the outside.”
“But now you know both of them are insane,” Ainslee supplies.
“Maybe we should start a crazy husband support group. I mean the rest of the Hanlons and Hales are still single.”
Ainslee unplugs her straighter because she’s finished with her hair. It’s amazing how much hair is on such a small package.
Her gray eyes grow with a realization. “It may be necessary. Can you imagine Berke having a wife! Worse my brothers! We’d have to meet daily for sure.”
We have a moment of silence for those future misses as she sets up for the makeup tutorial. I’m impressed by the system and as I watch her go through the process, I actually learn something. I doubt I’ll use it. My makeup artist stays on speed dial and now I have Ainslee.
She’s almost done with her face when my phone vibrates with a picture text from Jagger.
Jagger: This girl has been all over Oran all night.
I laugh because he’s being messy but I wait until she’s done and show the text to Ainslee anyway. Her eyes grow with shock then her adorable face takes on a murderous expression that I haven’t seen before.
“Get dressed,” she orders. I whistle when she storms off because I don’t think it’s safe for someone with her skillset to be in a jealous rage.
Me: Showed Ainslee and she looks like mad Gizmo.
Jagger: Adorable but deadly.
Me: That’s the look. I’ve been ordered to get dressed. Are you going to warn Oran?
Jagger: Nope. Where’s the fun in that?
I roll my eyes but type out the next question.
Me: Where are we headed?
Jagger texts me the location and since he likes mini heart attacks I pull on a see-through crochet beige romper. There is a built-in bra to cover my nipples since it’s open back and my bottoms are at the mercy of my underwear. I put on some cheeky beige bottoms that almost look like a thong and pull on the romper. I leave my hair in its wavy/curly state and add some colored lip gloss.
Ainslee is still fuming but she takes the time to whistle at me as I pull on my open-toe wedges. I give the address to the guy driving us and attempt to chat with her on the way. She’s responding but I know her mind is already at the bar. I know that she knows Oran wouldn’t cheat so I’m chalking her mood up to the audacity of the other woman. I doubt our husbands are out there ringless. Just rude.
“I’ll hold her down and you beat her up,” I finally joke to make Ainslee giggle.
Once we get inside she scans like I’m sure she’s trained to do. Jagger spots us and his face breaks into a mischievous smile. Oran finally looks our way and I can tell he sees nobody but her although I’m sure Ainslee is sizing up the harlot who is sitting far too close to Oran. I can only find amusement in it. Not because Oran isn’t my husband but because Ainslee’s jealousy is making her forget one thing that I have years of experience knowing - Oran Hale ignores everyone.
My husband - on the other hand - bites his bottom lip. Now, I know it means he likes what he sees but I used to think it’s one of those things he just does. We make our way to the table because I have a thought I need to discuss. With him. He turns in his seat so I can stand between his legs and wraps his arms around my waist
“Do you know what I just noticed?” I ask.
“First, my kiss. Act like you know how to greet me,” he says right before our lips meet.
Surprisingly, he keeps it public friendly and looks at me with his whiskey eyes glowing with lust.
