Free Fun With Rick and Jade by Kelli Scott

is Rick’s wife, Jade. He’s driving. Oh no!” She feigned concern while assessing her shiny nails. “Rick, honey, the hotel lost their reservation.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “That’s criminal,” she said to the caller. “They what?”
    “What? What’s going on?” He tried to snatch the device from her hand.
    “Keep your eyes on the road, sweetie, and your hands on the wheel.” She blocked his attempt to grab the phone. “The hotel called and got them a room at a motel by the airport,” she relayed to him. “That won’t do. We insist you come stay with us, don’t we, dear?”
    “We do?” Rick cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah, we do.”
    “It’s settled. Let me give you the address.” And then she wouldn’t be alone in the house with Rick. Bonus . Not that Bob and Candy in the house had stopped them from fucking last night, but it should have. Any number of things should have stopped them—like a baby, for starters—but hadn’t. “See you soon.” She disconnected.
    Poor Rick’s brow drew together. “Are you mental?”
    “I’m pretty sure I’m not.” She checked her lipstick in the visor mirror. “Why?”
    “I seriously doubted we could pull this off at all, and now they’re going to be under the same roof with us.” His eyes crinkled at the corners in disbelief. “My plan had been drinks, dinner, and then after dessert and coffee, he’d hand me a damn check.”
    “I just made him indebted to you. You can thank me anytime.” Jade plucked out their home number on the phone she still held, careful not to smudge her new nails. “I hope I can catch the cleaning lady before she leaves. The guest room needs to be guest-ready.”
    “They can’t stay in that crappy room I slept in last night.”
    “They can’t stay in Bob and Candy’s room.” That room could be a dead giveaway that she and Rick didn’t live there, which could lead to the discovery of bigger lies. And who knew what kind of sex toys Bob and Candy had lying around? “Luckily the Honeycutts were going to do a little sightseeing first. She’s not answering.”
    “I guess it’s up to you and me, sweetheart.”
    She flicked his temple with her index finger again. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
    “Ow!” Rick rubbed his head. “You called me every endearment known to man.”

 
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    Rick was still breathing heavily when the doorbell chimed. They’d completely removed every trace of Coral from the guest room she and Jade had been sharing and moved her into the small, crappy room. It was bright and sunny during the day with a pretty view of the mountains. Charming curtains were fashioned out of a checkered bed sheet, hung by clothespins from a line. Jade dubbed it whimsical, along with a few other creative touches.
    He decided she should have her own decorating show on one of those do-it-yourself-on-a-dime networks.
    On account of the frenzied move, they’d failed to finalize sleeping arrangements. He’d made a point of mentioning to his bride that being caught sleeping apart would not make a good impression. She’d made a point of rolling her eyes.
    Rick stood in the foyer, took a deep breath, and shook out his nerves. He opened the door wide and thrust out his free hand. “Welcome. Great to finally meet you, Mr. Honeycutt. Mrs. Honeycutt. I’m Rick. Rick Jette, but you already know that.”
    Shaking his hand, the average-looking, middle-aged man insisted Rick call him Dave and his wife Trudy. She struck Rick as your average elementary-school-teacher type. Dave reminded him of his high school history teacher. The combination made his stomach churn like a final exam during a bad hangover.
    “Come on in.” Sweat trickled down his back, partly from moving furniture, mostly from stress. “Jade, honey.” He watched her skip down the stairs with Coral cradled in her arms. For some reason she restored a small measure of calm. He was not in this alone. “This is my wife, Jade.