He plants a feather-light kiss on my lips and then moves to the door to lock it. He starts shedding his clothes. When he gets to the bed, his eyes have that smoky quality to them.

He is trying to undo my overalls. I stop his hand and he frowns. “What’s changed? Why are you upset, Chrissie?”

I fumble for a fast excuse for my sudden change of mood. “I’m not doing it. Not in a house full of them.”

Alan starts to laugh and visibly relaxes. “It’s going to be a very long week if you don’t, love. Miserably long for me.”

“Then long week. Learn to live with it. Suck it up.”

He eases me back on the bed, and then starts to work free the fastenings of my overalls. I can see it in his eyes. My mood has changed his mood, as well.

I don’t resist as he undresses me and I lie atop the bed as he gazes down at me. The cool air of the room touches my flesh, and the warmth of his fingers pushes the chill away.

A kiss on my arm. “I’m sorry.”

A touch on my shoulder. “I love you.”

He covers my entire body with a kiss, a touch, an “I’m sorry” or an “I love you.” And I know he isn’t talking about just highjacking me to The Farm. Or his obnoxious behavior at the party. Or being stuck here with the dysfunctional. Or even all the complicated shit. He can see inside of me even when I fight not to let him, and he is apologizing for my pain.

I relax into his touch and his words and his lips, and the things I am feeling seem to melt. Soon, all I am feeling is him.

He kisses the inside of my thigh and then he stops, his face lifting. “I love you. That’s why you are here with me.”

I don’t know why, what it was in his voice that time, but it washes away any doubt that he loves me or that I love him. It is all there in his voice, his touch, and his eyes when he looks at me, in the ease with which I give myself to him, and the ease in which he takes, and how very right it is.

Suddenly, I am out of my mind with the feel of him. I begin to move, more demanding, more greedily into the play of his hands and lips. He puts a finger in my mouth, scented of me, and I take it. He moves faster, harder, and I am whimpering and he is flooding my mouth with fingers, overfilling me as I greedily melt into him.

He pounds me in a frantic rhythm much faster than what I am used to with him. He doesn’t hold back. He pumps his body directly there and lets go into my climax.

As we lie before sleep, I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep with him, to feel him all around me, in the perfection that is sleeping with Alan.

We are fitted like puzzle pieces, his bicep beneath my head, and I am playing with the dark hairs on his arm.

“I’m sorry about the fingers,” he whispers into my neck.

I frown. “Fingers? You’ve lost me.”

“I would have preferred not to have to put almost my entire hand in your mouth, but I did it for you. Me, it’s all good. Your high pitched whimpers and screeches are such a turn-on. But I knew you would prefer the fingers.” He kisses my cheek. He settles against me with a wickedly teasing grin. “You, love, are very noisy.”

The laughter takes me by surprise, but it is welcomed and needed. There are times when Alan completely gets me.

* * *

OK, what do I do now? While I slept Alan deserted me. I haven’t any clothes. I haven’t any things.

There is warm, orange light pouring through the windows. Late morning. The room is surprisingly hot and the air in the room is still. I should open the windows. It’s too hot in here to stay comfortable, but I can’t hide in here forever, naked and in bed without Alan.

I look around the room, realizing there is no adjoining bathroom. Shit, that’s all I need.

The bedroom door slowly creaks open. Linda’s face appears. She smiles and enters quickly, closing the door fast behind her.

She plops on the bed beside me. “I’m glad you made up.”

I try not to sound too relieved that we did. “Me too.”

She lies on the bed on Alan’s pillow, as though she doesn’t realize I’m naked beneath the sheets.

I turn on my side, keeping myself carefully covered by the blankets. “Do you want to go with me into the village? I need to buy some things.”

Linda shrugs and smiles. “Don’t worry, Chrissie, whatever you need I’m sure I have. I always pack too much, but I am a world class packer.”

“I need everything, Linda.”

She frowns. “What?”

“Alan didn’t tell me he was bringing me to The Farm. I don’t have anything.”

Linda shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Oh shit, Chrissie. What is it about guys? Come with me. Linda can fix anything.”

Linda jumps from the bed as if she expects me to climb from the sheets butt naked and follow her. Carefully tucked behind the bedding, I pull on my panties and the long sleeve thermal of Jack’s I wore yesterday. It reaches halfway down my thighs, and though I cursed it yesterday, trying to tuck it into the overalls, I am grateful for that today.

By the time I catch up to Linda, she is already sitting on the floor in her room, busily rummaging through her suitcase. The Rowans’ room looks like a storm hit it and I have to pick my way across the clutter on the floor to get next to her.

Linda smiles. “It’s a good thing we look like we’re about the same size.”

She starts tossing things into a stack. Linda does have everything, everything in buckets. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have anything I like, anything I would feel comfortable wearing, and since we’re nearly the exact same size I can’t politely beg off of the loan of her things with a “they don’t fit.”

I am suddenly knee deep in eight outfits: a two-piece black, baby doll nightie set; panties; bras (if you can call them that because they are absolutely useless); a brand new hairbrush and toothbrush; toothpaste, hairspray and four changes of shoes.

“Something for every kind of outing, Chrissie,” Linda announces, shoving things into my arms. “The guys like to tear up the village at night. There is no telling where we’ll end up when we stay at The Farm.”

Tear up the village. So there is more than getting fucked and fucked up. There is tearing up the village.

After thanking Linda, I go back to my room and toss everything on the bed. I make a face and start to search through my new wardrobe. I’m relieved to find a little yellow sundress almost exactly like something I would buy, and a pair of panties not too stripper awful. I settle on a pair of high-top tennis shoes to finish off my outfit.

The guys are not downstairs when I go into the kitchen to find Linda. There are only the wives in the living room, lounging and laughing on the cushy furnishings there. I hear music, muffled and distant, and I wonder where it’s coming from.

“Where are the guys?” I ask Linda. I so don’t want to spend a day indoors with the girls.

“Rehearsing in the barn.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

“You’re watching it, girlfriend.” Linda tilts her head as if it helps her to hear the guys in the barn. “From the sounds of it, it sounds like they’re trying to behave nicely together. I expected fireworks, since they haven’t played together in six months. We’re lucky we’re not hearing the barn being torn down around us. I really thought the shit was going to hit the fan in five minutes.”

I pour a glass of orange juice and grab the toast Linda was kind enough to make for me. I look out into the living room with dread and reluctance.

Linda looks at me. “Come on, Chrissie. Let’s get out of here for the day. The guys are going to be tied up all day. Let’s go to the village.”

We take the Rowans’ shiny red Ferrari to the village, top down, and there should be a law passed against Linda driving anywhere. It’s not just the speed that’s getting to me, but her complete lack of focus on the road. She doesn’t stop talking, not ever, and when I talk she fixes on me, hanging on every word as if unaware she’s going nearly eighty on a narrow country road.