The House Guest
It was beautiful summer day. The house had been glowing all afternoon, filled with Florida sunshine pouring in through our living room windows. The scent of lavender still clung to the hallways from Carol's afternoon cleaning spree. A bottle of chilled rosé breathed quietly on the kitchen counter, and the playlist she chose was deliberate: smooth, low-tempo jazz that filled the spaces between words.
Carol had behaved differently all week, somewhat playful, definitely distracted, as if she were plotting something.
Carol and I were chilling on the couch, resting from a day tanning at the pool.
Carol reached over and grabbed my hand. "Hey honey, I have an idea. "It's been a long time since we have seen Jaime Pena, too long. I ran into him the other day at the mall by accident. You remember Jaime and his girlfriend Lisa. He said he and Lisa broke up after 15 years together. He seemed lonely, and I thought he could use some cheering up. And we don't really have any big plans for next weekend. Are you okay with the idea of having him over Saturday for dinner?"
I knew Jaime from a few years ago, the four of us went on a cruise together.
I nodded, "Sure, that sounds fine, an excuse to use the smoker.
Carol gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Okay I'll invite him for dinner Saturday then."
Saturday night Jaime arrived, he brought his usual charm. Jaime was from Puerto Rico. Medium height, sharp-featured, dark complexion, and effortlessly confident. He stepped inside with a bottle of red wine in one hand and that laugh, deep, warm, just on the edge of flirtatious.
He kissed Carol's cheek in greeting. Not rushed. Not exactly intimate, but it lingered. Long enough to feel like a promise.
Carol was welcoming. She looked radiant, brunet hair tied in a loose twist, a simple off-the-shoulder dress that hinted at skin without flaunting it. Bare legs folded beneath her as she moved with careless, magnetic grace. She looked like summer itself, bottled in a body that turned heads.
The three of us shared dinner by candlelight. Laughter bubbled easily as the wine flowed.
Jaime told stories, some old, some new and Carol leaned forward with that spark in her eye. She was enjoying Jaime's company.
Tonight, I wasn't the focus of her attention. There was something different behind my wife's laughter. Something deliberate.
I caught a look passing between she and Jaime, private, playful, dangerous, I knew:
This wasn't just about dinner. This was the beginning of something else entirely.
I watched cautiously at the way Carol's hand brushed Jaime's forearm when she passed the salad. The way she laughed unfiltered and how Jaime looked at my wife, really looked, as if cataloging every response.
And then... that glance.
From across the table. I caught it. Carol's lips curled ever so slightly; her eyes soft but sharp. It was a glance I knew all too well. A signal. Jaime didn't miss it either.
The mood shifted after that moment.
After dessert, the three of us moved to the living room. Carol poured another round. Jaime sat in the center of the couch, legs apart. Confident. Carol tucked herself beside him, not on the edge, but close enough that their hips touched. When she handed me my glass of wine, smiled then turned back to Jaime.
The room felt warmer now. Whether it was the wine or the dynamic stretching thin around me, I wasn't sure. I sat in the armchair a few feet away, close enough to hear their words but just far enough to feel... apart.
Carol uncrossed her legs, leaned back into the cushion, and let out a breath that was almost a sigh. Her shoulders loosened. Her body language changed. I knew that pose all too well. I'd seen it before, when she was about to take control of a situation.
She slipped off her high heels one by one, letting them fall to the hardwood with gentle thuds. Then, with an almost theatrical stretch, she extended her legs in Jaime's direction. Giving him a glimpse of her sexy legs.
It seemed innocent enough. I didn't want to appear to be a jealous husband
Jaime tilted his head. "Still a dancer's frame," he murmured, eyes on her legs. "Some things never change."
I stood. "Can I get everyone another glass of wine?"
Carol's eyes flicked to mine. "Mmm. Yes, please."
We'd already gone through two bottles of wine before I noticed we were completely out. The three of us, Carol, Jaime, and I had been sitting in the living room, catching up, and reminiscing about old times.
Jaime seemed more animated than usual. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the way he kept locking eyes with Carol a second longer than I thought necessary. She didn't seem to mind. If anything, she was enjoying the attention. I'd seen that sparkle in her eyes before, playful, just shy of provocative.
I announced we were out of wine and offered to run out for another bottle, Carol smiled at me, almost too easily.
"We'll hold down the fort baby," she said, crossing one leg over the other slowly as she looked at Jaime. Curling her bare toes in a playful gesture.
The wine room was barely ten minutes away, but traffic at the light near the roundabout was slow, so I idled, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Out of instinct more than suspicion, That's when I got curious as to what was going on back at the house. I opened the app for our home surveillance system.
The front door camera showed nothing. I swiped over to the living room feed.
And paused.
At first, it looked innocent enough, just the two of them on the couch. Jaime was sitting closer than before, and Carol had turned toward him. Then he reached up, touched her cheek, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
My stomach dropped.
She didn't stop him.
Instead, my wife tilted her head slightly, eyes on his mouth, and then, Gasp, she leaned in.
Their lips met, and it wasn't a quick kiss. It was a slow, exploring, hungry kiss. They exchanged tongues. I watched as Carol placed a hand on Jaime's chest, then slid it around his neck. His fingers were already on her thigh.
My throat tightened. I could hardly breathe.
There was no hesitation in either of them. No looking around. No guilt.
