Good Gods

Chapter 7

We find Rip crashed on the couch. Quin is sleeping in his arms. On the side table are empty beer bottles intermixed with baby bottles. I really hope he kept them straight.

I scoop Quin up, and she snuggles into my chest. She's warm and smells of baby and old milk. I pat her back, and she coos in her sleep.

"Why didn't you send me an update?" I know Rip is easy, reliable babysitting. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about her the entire time.

He stretches and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. "Oh, well, we had to go downstairs. I couldn't get reception."

"Into the basement?" We have a wine cellar, random storage, and a sauna in our basement. Can't image why they would spend time there, or enough time that they couldn't message me.

Rip looks to Roman. "Ah, you said..."

"Quin has a cough," Roman says very slowly. "I told Rip, if for any reason he became worried about her, he should take her somewhere warm."

I fold my arms over my chest. Remember what I said about Roman can't lie? I still think that's true. But I know they are being overly coy. The worry lines around Rip's mouth smooth. He's relieved that Roman had an explanation. My mommy suspicion siren is ringing double-time.

"Nothing is better for a baby's cough than warm steamy air. And see, when we came back, I dressed her in her cute green gingham dress. I think it accents her eyes." Rip pulls at the outfit. "We had a great time. Ought to do it again soon. Saunas are great for my skin. Got to go. Chow." He blows me an air kiss and heads for our backdoor.

I watch him retreat then turn on Roman. "What's he not telling me?"

Roman shrugs and clears away the bottles. "He was worried about Quin." Creb comes in from the other room and jogs next to Roman. His stub tail wagging like he thinks Roman will offer him one of the beers. See, the dogs gone all flip personality again. He's angry, he's lazy, now we've got a nice puppy. So frustrating. Roman might always be angst-filled, he's at least consistent.

"I texted him six times. He couldn't have spent the whole day with Quin in the sauna." I'm still jittery from my afternoon. My pulse is high, I feel like I need to go run three miles to calm down.

"I trust Rip," Roman says as he enters the kitchen, and I hear the clink of glass as he dumps the bottles into recycling.

"I do also. It's just..."

"If you don't like this, next time, stay home," he snarls.

And with those words, our conversation comes to a crashing end. I stare at him, my jaw clenched. He could've stayed home with Quin. He could step up and help around here. Instead, he's always the working man. I leave him in the kitchen and take Quin up to her bed.

After settling her in, I retreat to our very empty bedroom and begin the process of stripping off my damp clothing. I'm down to my underwear when I hear Quin cry out. Instantly, I'm in her bedroom rubbing her back. She's having a fetal dream. Her legs are kicking, and she's thrashing about in her crib.

The doorway darkens with a long black shadow.

"She all right?" Roman says in his deep gravelly voice.

"She's having a dream." With me comforting her, she's already quieting.

I feel a warm breeze on my skin, and I realize I'm only wearing a black lace bra with matching panties that cling to my newly enhanced goddess hips. The ensemble is from today's fashion intervention, and a far cry from the old boxer shorts and shirt I normally wear at night. Then again, I never could've rocked skimpy black lace like this. If I had to pick an outfit to be caught by my husband that I want to get even with, this one is perfect for the part.

Feast your eyes out sucker.

I straighten, throwing back my shoulders. "I think she's fine. We can go back to bed." I let heat fill my words.

Roman is still wearing his all-black suit. He hasn't gone to bed. I only said it as a suggestion of what I'd like.

His black eyes are shining. Around me, I feel the room's temperature rise. I shiver in anticipation. Damn, I really need a good lay. He takes a step forward, and I see his eyes skim over my chest, traveling down my belly to my navel. My skin heats under his gaze like I can feel his caress.

He stops inches from me, his hand is raised reaching toward my waist. He turns his head, his chin's a hard straight line. "Work needs me."

I stomp my foot. "More than that needs you."

He shakes his head. "Good night, Celina."

Really? He's going to let this go? Before I returned as a goddess, Roman would never have missed an opportunity for a lay, no matter how small the flirt. And me, posing in a black lace bra and matching thong is a suggestion about as subtle as a nuclear warhead.

By now, before I disappeared, showing up like this would mean I'd be working on a serious case of rug burn. He's never needed this desperate of an invitation. One hint that I was in the mood, and I got pushed up onto the counter, knocked to the steps, leaned over the couch. I could go on. We've never been an only in the bedroom couple. We've never been only a few times a week couple. We were always the on top of, below him, getting nailed all the time couple, and I liked it that way.

"Why am I the only one who wants to work on saving us?" I whisper-yell at him.

He stops as he enters the hall. His profile turns to me. "You think you're the only one working on saving us?" His jaw is clenched. Even in the shadows, I see the muscles in his arms tense.

"Yes, yes I do."

"Then you're very wrong Celina. Dead wrong."

He leaves me standing there and storms off in the direction of our central stairs. My guess to return to his office for whatever business reason he thinks is so important. I wait watching Quin until long after the air-conditioning kicks on and my skin gets a chill.

Later, when the house falls silent, I sneak to the basement. The sauna is cold, a thin layer of dust covers its floor. There are no footprints.