Fatally Bound by Roger Stelljes Page A

an hour ago, a bed hadn’t been required. They christened the new kitchen instead.
    “You know, we have a perfectly good king-size bed upstairs,” Mac suggested while they dined on the mostaccioli and spaghetti Sally brought home.
    “I came through the door and saw you and suddenly believed in the Fierce Urgency of Now,” she answered with a big seductive grin.
    Mac cackled, “Wow, now you’re quoting MLK to explain our sex life.”
    “Like you objected,” she cooed.
    “I certainly didn’t,” he answered, leaning over and kissing her lightly. “I had no objections at all. In fact, there were a couple of your little maneuvers that were new. You’ll have to do those again.”
    “I was reading the sex tips section of Cosmo while you were gone.”
    “Remind me to buy you a full year’s subscription.”
    “The center island withstood our assault,” she added with a mischievous smile. “I believe I can now fully trust in your craftsmanship.”
    Sally was always glib and flirty after sex. It was one of those little things he loved about her. The recap after they made love. It was never roll over and go to sleep. No, there was the postgame show and a breakdown of the highlights and the key moments in the encounter. Without fail, she always had something funny and seductive to say. It oftentimes led to another round, or overtime, as he’d taken to calling it. Sally had a way of always making him want her more.
    Now, he was sitting on his kitchen floor and leaning against the center island in his boxers and Sally was sitting across from him cross-legged in nothing but his white University of Minnesota T-shirt with some of the best red hair porn he’d ever seen her have. Easy rock was playing lightly from the speaker on the counter. They were drinking red wine and eating right out of the take-out boxes. The only illumination was three candles, two on the counter and one on the center island. It was totally romantic.
    For two hours they talked, touched, kissed and caught up with one another. It was two hours of conversations about anything but work. As serious people as they both were, they both loved their intake of pop culture. Both had tablets that were full of magazines that made for mindless entertainment reading. Mac always made time for his St. Paul boy Vince Flynn and would occasionally dive into a legal novel, although he preferred nonfiction, biographies and historical books. Sally was more of the fiction reader, with a thing for Gillian Flynn and Lisa Gardner mysteries. Where they agreed was an eclectic mix of television shows and they spent a half hour recapping their recent viewings of their favorites,
Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Rehab Addict, Homeland, Breaking Bad, Mad Men, Suits, Castle
and
Game of Thrones
. They talked about their families, from how Sally’s brother was going to have his third child to Mac describing how his seventeen-year-old niece, Maura, was busted for minor consumption.
    “It sounds like Tess was rather upset with Maura,” Sally said, twisting spaghetti around her fork.
    “Over the top, really,” Mac chuckled as he shoveled in more mostaccioli. “Minor consumption isn’t the greatest thing to have on your record.”
    “We could probably fix that.”
    Mac nodded. “I made a couple of calls over to Minneapolis and we’ll get it taken care of for her. She’ll have her do a little community service. But Tess,” he smiled ruefully, “was all over her like white on rice.”
    “Was Maura upset?”
    “Natch. But I really think she was just more embarrassed that her mom and dad had to come and pick her up. Of course, I was able to cheer Maura up a little bit.”
    “How?”
    “I told her about the time my dad and I went to pick up Tess from the jail up in St. Cloud. She was arrested for public intoxication and ended up with a minor consumption when she was a sophomore up at St. Ben’s. Oh man, did Dad have fun with her on that hour-ride home. I told Maura all about