Knowing Read Free

how was she supposed to know what to do? She’d never been on a date before, even though she was nearly thirty years old at the time. She’d been married at seventeen. Still in the process of divorcing her husband, she hadn’t had sex for nine months and was horny as hell. It was ridiculous the way attorneys expected a woman to stay celibate during divorce proceedings, so she wouldn’t be considered a slut during the custody hearings, while a man could go out and screw anyone anytime, and was rarely questioned about his dalliances.
    So it was only natural that she wound up in Jackson’s bed, feeling like a teenager. Carefree and happy. A few dates later, they decided to drive his brand-new black Bronco to Port Huron, where she lived. They’d just come from the Masonic temple and she had on a sexy antique white lace dress with iridescent sequins sprinkled around the bodice. His olive green silk suit flattered his sleek, muscular frame. He was totally appetizing. Utterly inviting.
    Desire overwhelmed them, before they’d even reached her house. She couldn’t wait. Neither could he. She ended up straddling him, having sex down the freeway at eighty miles an hour. She’d never forget it. Neither would he. Two weeks later he asked her to marry him. A few years later they had a baby daughter, Autumn. She was his spitting image. Jackson was happier than he ever would have believed. You’d think he’d had her all by himself, the way he carried on about his little girl.
    Jackson Montgomery could charm the rattle off a rattlesnake. He was intelligent, articulate, suave, and charismatic without even trying to be. When he walked into the room, you couldn’t help but stop and stare at his tall, slender, poised body. Ginger had been mesmerized the first time those seductive hazel eyes gazed into hers and seemed to look straight through to her heart. She was helpless, and who wouldn’t be?
    Getting up, she went into the kitchen and washed the delicate goblet and placed it back inside the cabinet. She’d finished the entire bottle of wine, but inner tranquillity still eluded her, and the desperate yearning she felt for Jackson had only been heightened. As she walked toward the circular staircase, she felt as light as the feather flakes that blanketed the ground outside. As quickly as it had begun, the snow had ceased.
    When she opened the door to their master suite, barely making a sound, a familiar husky voiced called from the bed, “Baby, come back to bed, baby.”
    She stood in the center of the room, letting her flimsy garment fall to a fluffy puddle around her ankles.
    Sliding beneath the cool sheets, Ginger snuggled close to Jackson’s heat, two animals, bodies melded.
    Gliding his palms against the round of her hips, he whispered in her ear, “I love you, baby.”
    The pungent aroma of dirty gym shoes greeted Ginger before Jason did. Turning toward the open doorway, her teacup in hand, she grimaced. “Mornin’, Jason.”
    “I’m gonna put these in to soak, Ma. Is anything in the machine?” asked Jason, dropping one of the size-twelve sneakers.
    She called over her shoulder as he walked toward the rear staircase, “No. But add a little Pine Sol to that water. Those shoes need some disinfectant.”
    She turned back to the magazine article she was reading on new businesses with low start-up costs. Ginger knew one day she’d be working in a professional field. As her eyes traveled down the page, she couldn’t help but notice the protruding blue-green veins on both her hands, a result of the hard work they’d done.
    Years of healed scars covered her hands. Though some were barely visible, she knew the location of each knick and mark. Lumps on either side of her fingers, the size of thumbtacks, were more prominent, calling attention to the fact that she worked in a factory. Ginger knew that, in order to be a professional, she had to look the part. Acrylic nails would do for a start.
    The sun raised its sleepy head,