****
They were about halfway home and Lizzie had been rewarded for her improved behaviour and was texting away on her recently returned phone in the back of the car while Philip was moaning and complaining,
“I don’t feel so good. I feel sick,” he cried.
“Told you.” Jim glanced across at an amused Tasha.
Juan was obviously irritated by Philip and quietly admonished him. “It’s your own fault. You had to have one last ice cream, your fourth. On top of hot dogs, soda and cotton candy.”
Tasha smiled. Juan was the boss in their relationship, as well as being the more grounded, stronger one, like Philip’s dad. Maybe she wasn’t the only one attracted to a daddy type.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” cried Philip, clutching his stomach with one hand and covering his mouth with the other.
“Only if you want to walk home,” said Jim seriously, making Tasha frown at him. “A frown, Natasha?” His smile caused her to cut her eyes at him.
He grinned across at her. “Oh, baby.”
She grinned back. Her muscles tensed at the veiled threat in those two simple words. She pressed down against the seat, trying to find some much needed relief, but was left wanting.
“Why don’t you try and go to sleep,” suggested Tasha to Philip who still groaned to himself. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better when you wake up.” She turned to look at the younger Maybury man and smiled.
Philip closed his eyes as Lizzie asked, “Daddy, can Danielle come over tonight?”
Jim looked across at Tasha who said nothing and didn’t gesture any feelings about the matter.
“I guess so,” replied Jim.
“Thank you. Can she stay over?” Lizzie asked now.
“Sure.” Jim frowned slightly at Tasha.
“Can we pick her up on the way back then you and Tasha can speak to her mom about the concert?”
“Sure,” repeated Jim.
Philip was just stirring as Jim approached the door of the large detached house with Lizzie to collect Danielle.
“How do you feel?” asked Tasha.
“Good, thank you,” he replied, resting his head on Juan’s shoulder making Tasha smile at the simple loving gesture.
Lizzie and Danielle came running back to the car. While Lizzie excitedly introduced Tasha, she watched Jim laughing with the rather attractive red head on the door and found it irritating. The other woman appeared to be hanging onto his every word and kept touching him, a stroke of the hand or a playful push when he said something to amuse her. She was leaning on the door frame with her hip jutting out, her shoulders back, forcing her chest out even further than her rather obvious implants already dictated they were.
“Are your mom and dad okay with you staying over, Danielle?” asked Tasha.
“Mom is, but Dad doesn’t know, they’re divorced,” she explained.
Her mother continued chatting with Jim who appeared to be flirting back; he was leaning on the opposite side of the door frame and kept running his fingers through his hair and throwing his head back as he laughed at Danielle’s trampy mother. This was torture. Is this how he behaved with women? She had never really seen him socially before and she didn’t like it. He was hers. He was wearing knee length khaki shorts, a plain white t-shirt and deck shoes. He looked absolutely gorgeous. She’d hoped that when they got home they would find some time to be together, intimate time, but she’d had some reservations about Lizzie being in the house overnight and now there would be two teenage girls there. She stared wide-eyed as Jim reached over and stroked this slutty red head’s hand which was a step too far. She had just got out of the car when he turned from the house, striding back to the car.
“You okay, baby?” he asked innocently when he saw her standing at the side of the car.
“No!”
“Why?” He grinned at her.
She had a near overpowering urge to wipe that grin right off his smug face. “You don’t know?”
“Should I?” His grin grew even broader now.
