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Head of the House

By Jennie May

Copyright 2009

Published by Smashwords



Open Mouth, Insert Liquor


Brenda gazed at her reflection in the antique, freestanding mirror. Her gown fell all the way to the ground, and the pink fabric gathered in satin puddles at her feet. She pushed herself up onto tiptoes. Once she had the right shoes, she knew that the dress would be just right. She would glide across the floor like a princess from a fairy tale.

She pushed her hair to the top of her head and let the chestnut curls fall around her face and neck. She turned her neck a quarter turn to the left and wondered if she should have her hair done professionally for the party. Maybe she should have her makeup done too.

When she had finished daydreaming, she reached to the back of the dress and pulled on the zipper. She hadn’t been able to get the zipper to the top by herself, but the night of the party she would have Aidan there to help her.

Brenda let the light fabric flow off her arms and then carefully stepped out of her gown. She hung it in her closet and then fell onto the bed with a sigh. She and Aidan had been married for more than a year, but she was just as much in love with him now as she had been on their wedding day. She turned her head toward the nightstand and saw their wedding picture there. Aidan worked construction, and it showed in his muscular build. He was tired of swinging a hammer, though. He wanted to go to work every day in a suit and tie. He was almost there, too. One of the managers of the construction company had retired, and they were looking for someone to replace him. Brenda knew that this promotion would mean everything to Aidan. She stared at the picture. She remembered that one of the things she loved so much about him was his drive to succeed. Aidan was not a man to let circumstances stop him from achieving his dreams, and Brenda liked that. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, either. He had blue-gray eyes that sometimes reminded Brenda of the Jersey shore. Brenda bit her lip. Sometimes those eyes reminded her of steel. When Aidan was angry, his eyes would spark and crackle. She knew at those times to tread lightly. Aidan had never lost his temper with her, never hurt her like some of her friends’ boyfriends, but Aidan believed in a traditional relationship between a man and a woman. He was Brenda’s lover, friend and protector. He was strong, physically and in others ways. He gave her freedom and did not micromanage her life, but he did expect her to do as he said.

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