Your Bed or Mine? (10 page)

What Edward had done to her was unforgivable, but he was still a gifted neurosurgeon who saved people’s lives daily. Even
her own wounded pride and her shattered faith in men, didn’t, in her opinion, justify ruining his career.

She had to believe Edward would get what was coming to him in his own good time. She just hoped she lived long enough to see
it happen.

Alicia sighed.

The brunt of everyone’s joke; that’s what she’d always been. Too smart. Too pretty. Too rich to fit in. And obviously too
stupid to realize Edward was gay.

Well, dammit, she was over it! It was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself, and took control of her life.

Too menacing NOT to be included!

From here on out, this was going to be her new motto!

Rick looked up to see Charlie Marshall and Joe Jones heading down the path in his direction. Simon’s head came up instinctively
when Rick stopped walking, his nose sniffing the air. The dog wagged his tail when he picked up the scent.

When Charlie and Joe walked up and stopped in front of them, Charlie said, “Good to have you back, Rick. How does it feel
to be home?”

“Ask me later,” Rick said, “after I haul all of Zada’s junk out of the living room and back to the garage.”

He shook hands with Charlie first.

Then with Joe.

That people often mistook them for brothers when they were together, was understandable. They were both around six feet tall,
both had dark hair, dark eyes. Like him, they both worked out regularly and kept in shape.

The three of them had formed an instant bond from the first day he and Zada moved to Woodberry Park. It had been the same
for the wives—best friends on sight.

Charlie said, “Yeah, I heard about Zada’s welcome home present.”

“What present?” asked Joe.

Charlie looked at Joe. “Didn’t Tish tell you?”

Joe shook his head. “Tish gave me a rundown about the whole
Survivor
scenario, but it was late when I got home last night. She didn’t mention any present.”

Rick said, “The girls trashed the living room last night. Zada’s way of letting me know what I’m facing if I try to stick
it out over the next ninety days.”

“Jen didn’t help,” Charlie was quick to say. “Jen was there, but she tried to talk Zada and Tish out of trashing the living
room.”

Joe looked at Rick in shock. “Tish really helped Zada trash your living room?”

Rick shrugged. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. No real damage was done.”

Joe frowned. “I’ll do more than worry about it,” he said. “If Tish helped trash the place, I’ll make sure Tish helps clean
up the mess.”

Charlie said, “Why clean it up?”

Rick and Joe both looked at him.

“Forget I said that,” Charlie said quickly, glancing over his shoulder for a second. He looked back at Rick. “Jen has already
given me strict instructions we’re not taking sides in this game you and Zada are playing.”

“But?” Joe asked.

Charlie sent another nervous look behind him.

“But,” he said, after he was sure the coast was clear, “if I were you, Rick, I’d beat Zada at her own game. If you clean up
the mess, she’ll only make another one. I say, leave the mess. Show her you’re not playing into her hands.”

Rick said, “Good point.”

“Or,” Joe said, grinning, “fight fire with fire and do a little trashing of your own. Zada isn’t the only one capable of making
a mess. She wants messy, I say give the lady what the lady wants.”

Rick cringed at the thought.

Charlie burst out laughing.

“What?” Rick demanded.

“Sorry,” Charlie said. “I was just trying to imagine you neatly organizing the mess you were trying to make.”

“I’m not that anal,” Rick grumbled.

“Yes you are,” Charlie and Joe said at the same time.

“Okay, dammit, maybe I am,” Rick admitted, “but I didn’t move home to lose this bet to Zada. I came home to win.”

“Damn right,” said Joe.

“That’s the spirit, soldier,” Charlie said.

“
After
we play eighteen holes,” Joe threw in. “We have a tee-time in an hour. Zada told us where you were. That’s when we came to
find you.”

“You saw Zada?”

“Briefly,” Charlie said. “She was coming back across the street from Alicia’s house.”

Rick laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Joe asked.

Tongue in cheek, Rick said, “Alicia dropped by to welcome me back home this morning, and to offer me—Well, let’s just say
she made it a point to let me know she was available for anything I needed. Day or night. Zada slammed the door in her face.
I hope she went over to apologize.”

Joe let out a low whistle. “Wow. I don’t even want to think about what Tish would have done. But apologizing isn’t one of
them.”

“Even Jen wouldn’t have taken a welcome home visit from Alicia in stride,” Charlie admitted.

“Women,” Rick said, shaking his head. “One hundred percent comprehendable-proof.”

“Which is why we should stick to playing golf instead of trying to figure them out,” Joe said.

“I bet Simon agrees with that statement,” Charlie said, bending down to ruffle the dog’s fur. “Don’t you, boy?”

Simon’s bark was affirmative.

“Good boy,” Rick said. “Let’s go home and get my golf clubs.”

As they started back toward the house, Charlie said, “Tell us the truth, Rick. What is your real strategy for coming up with
the
Survivor
game? Do you really want Zada to move out? Or is the game just a tactic to convince Zada she should call off the divorce
and let you move back in permanently?”

Good question.

But Rick said, “Zada’s too stubborn to call off the divorce.”

“Be fair,” Charlie said. “Zada isn’t the only stubborn one.”

“True,” Rick admitted. “We’re both too stubborn for our own good. Which is exactly why we can’t live together.”

Joe spoke up. “You and Zada could live together if you joined leagues with the rest of us husbands and used the magic phrase
all us married men rely on to keep the little woman happy.”

Rick laughed. “What magic phrase?”

“‘Whatever you say, dear,’” Joe told him.

Rick shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not a whatever-you-say-dear kind of guy.”

“Like your dad, you mean?” Charlie asked.

Rick said, “What does my dad have to do with this?”

“Just an observation,” Charlie said. “You told me once your dad always gave the orders and you and your mom always followed
them to the letter. I hate to burst your bubble, Rick, but your mom came from a different generation. Today’s woman is better
at giving orders than she is at taking them.”

“And that’s when you appease her with the magic phrase,” Joe said. “Then you go about your business and basically do whatever
you want.”

Rick sent them both a puzzled look.

“But that seems so… so dishonest,” he said.

“I’m not saying honesty doesn’t play a major role in marriage,” Joe said. “It does. Just reserve honesty for the big stuff.
Like your commitment to the marriage.”

“And fidelity,” Charlie threw in.

Joe nodded. “Use the magic phrase for those little day-to-day battles that really don’t matter one way or another.”

“That’s just it,” Rick argued. “There are no
little
battles where Zada and I are concerned.”

“That’s because you haven’t figured out you have to be man enough to use the magic phrase,” Joe said.

Man enough?

Or dishonest enough?

Rick wasn’t sure.

But as they continued walking back toward the house, Rick had already decided he would file Joe and Charlie’s out-mess suggestion
in his strategy file for future reference. Unfortunately, even if he could force himself to ignore the mess in the living
room, he would never be able to out-mess Zada. And whether his friends believed it or not, once Zada filed for the divorce,
it had become way too late for the friggin’ magic phrase.

Besides, he had his own idea for the type of challenge Zada wouldn’t be able to survive.

Out-tease. Out-tempt. Out-tantalize.

Zada could deny any chemistry still existed between them if she wanted, but he intended to prove she was lying.

Turning up the sensuality meter a few notches was bound to send Zada running to safety. And in his way of thinking, the sooner
she ran, the better. The madness over the last six months hadn’t been productive for either of them.

It was time to settle the property dispute. Time for both of them to get on with their lives, even if it meant going their
separate ways.

“I give up. You win.
”

That was the
only
magic phrase Rick was interested in hearing at this stage of the game.

Jen, Tish, and Zada stood at Tish’s kitchen window, watching as the guys placed their golf bags into the back of Joe’s four-seat
golf cart that was sitting in Tish’s driveway. Within seconds, all three of them were scuffling over who was going to drive
the cart.

“Isn’t that cute?” Tish said. “They’re having a Larry, Moe, and Curly moment.”

Joe finally won the scuffle and slid behind the wheel.

Charlie jumped in beside him.

Rick hopped onto the backseat.

But as they drove off, Rick glanced up at the window for a second and looked directly at Zada. He had the nerve to send her
a big smile and a friendly little wave.

“Zada!” Jen scolded.

“I waved back,” Zada said in her own defense.

“Try using
all
of your fingers next time,” said Jen.

“I can’t help it,” Zada said, turning away from the window. “I’m wicked pissed at Rick right now.”

Tish looked at Jen.

Jen looked at Tish.

They both followed Zada across the room.

When Zada sat down at Tish’s kitchen table, Tish said, “You’re wicked pissed at Rick as opposed to say—the last six months?”

Zada let out a long get-this-over-with sigh.

Damn Rick and his hanging-out-at-her-place rotten hide!

“I have something to tell you,” Zada said.

Neither Jen or Tish said a word after Zada finished telling them about Alicia’s visit that morning.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Zada couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, at least yell at me or something,” Zada wailed. She looked at Tish, then back at Jen. “You think I don’t already know
that inviting
Pubic
Enemy Number One to go after Rick takes first place on the stupid human tricks top-ten list?”

“You aren’t stupid, Zada,” Tish said, “you’re just hard of thinking sometimes.”

Jen said, “See? I told both of you when the rumors started, we should tell everyone the truth. I can’t believe you talked
me into letting everyone think we actually sit around and discuss our sexual fantasies on Saturday night.”

Zada said, “Well, I was certainly tempted to invite Alicia over to share sexual fantasies with the infamous Housewives’ Fantasy
Club. Especially when she said we were nothing but boring housewives who were so clueless we wouldn’t know a fantasy if it
walked up and pinched us on the ass.”

Jen’s mouth dropped open. “Alicia said that?”

“She didn’t have to say it,” Zada said. “The smug look on her face said it for her.”

Jen said, “Well, thank God you didn’t invite her over to share any fantasies! I have no intention whatsoever of sharing sexual
fantasies with the likes of Alicia Greene.”

“Nor do I,” Zada said and sighed. “The only sexual fantasies I’m having right now are of the Lorena Bobbitt variety.”

“I’ll swap sexual fantasies with Alicia,” Tish said.

The room fell as silent as an old maid’s bedroom.

Zada sent Tish a look that said,
Now, you tell me!

Jen sent Tish a look that said,
Who
are
you?

“I don’t know about the two of you,” Tish said, “but I intend to go to my grave without admitting all we do on Saturday night
while the guys play poker, is sit around stuffing our faces with appetizers, drinking wine, and moaning about what the guys
are or aren’t doing to piss us off. I vote for keeping our hot and spicy reputation. It sure beats bland and boring.”

“This isn’t a freaking cook-off, Tish!” Jen yelled.

Unruffled, Tish said, “Oh, please. I’m sure even you have at least one sexual fantasy, Jen.”

Jen’s hands flew to her hips. “What do you mean
even
me? I’ll match my sexual fantasy against your sexual fantasy any day of the week, Tish Jones.”

Zada said, “If I’d known how eager you two are to share sexual fantasies, I would have invited Alicia over tonight!”

Jen said, “I was only trying to make a point. Whatever my sexual fantasies are, I am
not
interested in playing super-nympho for Alicia
or
for Tish.” She glared back at Tish. “Got it, Miss Suddenly-Turned-X-rated?”

Tish grinned. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, Jen, but whips and chains excite me.”

Jen paled.

“I’m
kidding,
” Tish said, laughing.

Zada looked at Tish and said, “For my sake, I hope you aren’t kidding. If Alicia does decide to go after Rick in a big way,
I might be begging you to share your sexual fantasies with her.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” Tish said.

Not me,
Zada thought.

Sharing sexual fantasies would be torture for her.

Rick, sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Wearing nothing but naked—Rick always slept nude.

His hard, lean body sprawled across the bed.

The bedsheet kicked off as usual.

His legs splayed just enough to be dangerous.

What she
didn’t
need to think about in full view.

Arousing her.

Teasing her.

Mocking her with heated memories.

Warning her of cold regrets.

“You know,” Tish said, “just in case we do have to invite Alicia over to save poor Rick from her greedy clutches, maybe we
should practice sharing our fantasies tonight while the guys play poker.”

“No!” Zada and Jen said at the same time.