Page 90 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

I hiked one of her legs over my hip and held it in place, palming her jean-clad ass as I leaned down to kiss her, just as the front door opened.

“Oh, shit.”

Melanie and I both froze, then I slowly lifted my head to see our sons standing in the open doorway. Tanner had his hand up over his face to shield his eyes, and Garrett gaped at us before whirling around and giving us his back.

“Uh, do you two wanna stop whatever you’re doing before you scar us for life?”

Melanie stifled a giggle at Tanner’s aggrieved tone as Garrett added, “Yeah, we’re glad you’re back together and all, but you really need to learn to lock the door before you do that. I still have nightmares from walking in on you in the kitchen when we came home last month.”

I sat up and pulled Melanie up to sit next to me. She ran a hand over hair to smooth it, as I assured our sons that it was safe to come in.

Tanner peeked through his fingers as if not quite believing me, before dropping his hand and shaking his head at us as if we were naughty children. Garrett sighed in relief at the sight of us fully dressed this time, since Melanie had just whipped my shirt off when they’d caught us the last time. It could have been worse than just a passionate kiss, and if they’d shown up a minute later, it would have been.

It wasn’t the first time they’d walked in on us over the years – the most memorable being a few months after we’d gotten married, when they’d caught us “wrestling” in bed early one morning. Melanie had been under me, but my bare ass had been on full display, but thankfully they had believed my explanation, and had been too young to remember that occasion. Either that, or they’d both blocked it from their memory banks in an effort to protect their fragile minds from the horror, I wasn’t sure which and I wasn’t about to ask.

Chapter 31

Melanie

Once the boys had recovered sufficiently, they explained that they decided to come home a day early. My parents had arrived back from Florida this afternoon, and we were having everyone over tomorrow to celebrate their return.

The reason for their early arrival was apparent when they each dragged in two bulging bags of laundry. While Tanner headed straight for the washer to start a load, Garrett made a beeline for the refrigerator. Ryan and I trailed after him, watching in bemusement as he started pulling various containers out and peering inside until he found what he wanted.

“Ooh, meatloaf,” he said, shooting me a satisfied grin as he spotted the leftovers from last night’s dinner.

“There are some mashed potatoes in the yellow bowl,” I pointed out, and he pumped his fist.

“Yeeessss, real mashed potatoes, instead of those nasty cardboard paste flakes they serve on campus.”

“I smell Mom’s sauce so they must have made something Italian tonight,” Tanner hollered from the laundry room. “If there’s any left of whatever it was, I call dibs.”

Ryan leaned against the counter behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He tugged me back until I was resting against him, then lowered his head to whisper in my ear.

“They’ll be busy for a while. Maybe they won’t notice if we sneak upstairs?”

Tanner hurried into the kitchen just then and flashed us a warning look as he snatched up the dish containing the leftovers of our chicken parmesan dinner from this evening.

“Watch those hands, old man, there are impressionable children in the room.”

I laughed, loving the ease with which Ryan and the boys were interacting these days. There had been a few tense moments, but once they’d learned that I’d forgiven their dad for being so neglectful and absent and had seen the changes in him firsthand, they’d quickly fallen suit. We’d never told Tanner and Garrett about what happened in Las Vegas, and we never would. Only Jen, Mark, and Kim knew the true circumstances, and that was the way it would stay.

Having Ryan volunteer on an accessibility project two weeks ago had further helped cement their renewed relationship. Ryan had come home tired and covered in bits of sawdust, with callouses on his hands, in a better mood than I’d seen him in days. He’d had a great time reconnecting with the boys while helping to build a ramp and widen doorways for a Marine veteran whose debilitating injuries in Afghanistan forced him to rely on a wheelchair these days.

We ended up watching a movie with them, as they worked their way through their laundry as well as all of the leftovers. When they decided to put a frozen pizza in the oven as the movie ended, Ryan and I called it a night.

“Good God, I think I have indigestion just from watching those two,” Ryan muttered as we entered our bedroom. He rubbed his stomach with a grimace. “I remember the days when I could do that. Now, pizza at eleven o’clock at night would give me heartburn until dawn.”

I laughed as I closed – and carefully locked – our bedroom door. “Oh, you poor old man. Does that mean you’re too tired to have fun?” I waggled my brows comically, and Ryan lunged for me, lifting me up by the waist as he twirled me around.

He sat me on my feet as I tried to stifle my laughter so the boys wouldn’t hear, keeping my body pressed against his as he circled his hips against mine.

“I’ll never be too tired for that, sweetness, I guarantee it.”

It didn’t take long before I was on my knees, face down with my head buried in my pillow to muffle my moans as Ryan pounded into me relentlessly. He bit back his groan as his body shuddered, triggering my own orgasm as well.

He shifted to the side and collapsed on the bed next to me, his chest heaving as he grinned up at the ceiling.

“How was that for an old man?”