In It For My Wife (Rekindled Hearts Book 1)
Gracie Sullivan
In It For My Wife
A Rekindled Hearts Romance
Gracie Sullivan
Copyright © 2018 by Gracie Sullivan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Towne Tart
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Dedicated to whole bean, french-press black coffee.
— Gracie
Dedicated to coffee with milk and sugar.
— Sullivan
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
About the Author
A sizzling story about reconnecting… and staying connected
A Rekindled Hearts Romance by new author Gracie Sullivan
In It For My Wife
High school sweethearts Heather and John have the kind of marriage you only read about in magazines. Everybody wants to be them or date them. They’ve struck it rich at a young age with their start-up tech company, but life is not always what it may seem for the rich and famous.
John swore to Heather that despite their sudden influx of money, they would stay connected and grounded. But add in twenty years of marriage, three kids, hectic jobs and scores of responsibilities, and John has lost the ability to ignite passion in his wife. He’s skeptical about her plans for a weekend away at a strange marriage bootcamp, but he’s committed to get back what belongs to him.
Heather’s energy has been sapped by raising kids, charity work and running a household with a husband who works too much and can’t seem to make it through a family dinner without taking calls from work. Her libido is hanging on by a thread, and she’ll go to great lengths to save their marriage. So, when she scores a pricey ticket to a mysterious marriage boot camp for the wealthy, the pair soon find themselves trapped in the middle of nowhere, facing off against one hilarious predicament after another.
These tech giants are getting back to the basics!
WARNING: Grab your canteens, because this book is ultra-steamy and will have you sweating like a lost hiker in July. Contains graphic descriptions of married people doing really fun things in the pool house … under the stars … in the water … under a picnic table … and maybe a tiny bit of butt stuff. Adults 18 and over, please. SPOILER: Contains no cheating, no cliffhangers and a satisfying happy ending!
Prologue
“Heather?”
John’s face looked haunted as he hung up the phone.
Heather sipped her instant coffee from the old, chipped mug as she stared at her husband across the formica kitchen island.
“What is it, babe?”
“That was Kim, our attorney.”
Heather’s stomach was in knots. She and John had been waiting for weeks for the news from Carlisle Corporation.
Reps from that company had approached John and Heather months ago with an interest in buying their small startup that they ran out of their garage. Today was the day that Carlisle’s attorney would make the final offer.
John and Heather had fallen in love in high school, two good-looking National Honor Society kids who could do no wrong. Everyone at their school wanted to date them, be them, or try to get them to do their homework. They married as soon as they could and went to college together, earning degrees in business and computer science.
Ever since then, they worked round the clock to develop their software application, “Giftr,” — an app that took charge of all important contacts and dates, automatically ordering, sending cards and gifts for every birthday, holiday, anniversary, based on the user’s preferences. In simple terms, the app made the users into the best and most diligent gift-givers. The app had seen some controversy in social media, as critics suggested it was yet another way to prevent humans from actually connecting with each other.
But the bad and good press meant only one thing: more attention and more sales.
John and Heather toiled and saved, and now had enough buzz to attract buy-in from big retailers. And now, things were getting bigger than they could handle. That’s when Carlisle Corporation had stepped in.
Heather could not stand the suspense any longer. “What is it? What did she say? Was it good?”
John swallowed. He actually looks scared. “Yeah. It was good. We’re rich.”
Heather nodded. “And this is the part where you are scared of your own success. I can see it all over your face.”
John nodded. “Babe, I’m talking super rich.”
“How much are they offering?”
John cleared his throat. “Our ship has come in, Heather, and it’s Titanic-sized.”
Heather replied, “Don’t say Titanic.”
John said, “You’re right, that’s a bad omen.”
Heather suggested, “Maybe more like a party barge with Bill and Melinda Gates?”
John took a deep breath and told her the amount. Then he said, “Try aircraft carrier owned by the Sultan of Brunei.”
Heather’s stomach lurched and she dropped her coffee mug. It shattered on the cheap linoleum kitchen floor of their tiny rental house.
John helped her clean up the mess as Heather tried to keep her hands from shaking.
He paused and covered her hands with his and looked deep into her eyes. “Babe. It’s OK. Nothing is going to change that we don’t want to change. We will still be us, just with more money. Right?”
She nodded and said, shakily, “Right.”
Chapter 1
John
The phone rang again for the second time during family dinner, and John had only been home for five minutes. It was Meredith, John’s supervisor at Carlisle.
He barely got a word out before she started in. “I just got off the phone with the CEO himself, and we need to bump up the roll-out of the Giftr expansion. He wants it in a week.”
Heather, clearly annoyed at this second disturbance during dinner, was not even bothering to keep their three young daughters quiet while Daddy was on the phone with work. John couldn’t exactly blame her for that.
John put Meredith on speaker as he looked at his calendar. “We’re already set for launch in two weeks.”
“I know that,” Meredith replied, “But they tell me if we’re going to sign the biggest retailer in the nation to start advertising its Christmas gifts in time for Halloween, we need it faster.”
John muttered that he’ll get it done, while feeling Heather’s glare from across the table. He hung up quickly and was drawn back into the present with his exasperated wife and three beautiful children that had obviously sapped
her of every last ounce of patience for the day.
John looked across the table at Heather, and secretly wished they could, for a moment, go back to the time when they would spend entire days and nights working side by side in the garage, keying in computer codes until their eyes were seeing double.
But in the years since Carlisle had purchased Giftr from John and Heather, the huge corporation realized that they needed one of them to run it for them. John had not been ready to leave the app behind, so he agreed to go to work in the IT department with special oversight for Giftr, while Heather decided to stay home and raise their family.
The Giftr app was the first thing John thought about for the last several years, and now it had taken over his life. He was currently working on an update that would enable users to interact with other users.
He had the brain of a computer geek, able to write codes to solve any computer related issue, but he could not seem to understand why he and Heather were not connecting. After twenty years of marriage and three amazing little girls, things had changed. He had promised her that nothing would change once they hit it rich. But he was wrong.
Their marriage had indeed changed, and so had their sex life.
That’s not to say he wasn’t attracted to his wife anymore. He still very much was, and always had been. Heather’s petite little body fit perfectly tucked in next to John’s tall, built frame. Her soft skin is the most delicious thing he’d ever touched or tasted. Just thinking about her skin next to his gave him a hard-on. Even after all this time, there was nothing in the world like watching Heather — her sweet, voluptuous tits bouncing in rhythm while her dark brunette curls framed her green cat-like eyes — ride his dick until they were both falling off the cliff of ecstasy.
But of late, things seemed off. Heather was either always at some social engagement, avoiding John, or he was at work avoiding her.
They had agreed to see a marriage counselor, Emily, who seemed to take Heather’s side in most of their disagreements. John felt as if he was getting a pretty shitty end of the deal in that effort. However, Emily had recently come up with an idea that had piqued John’s interest.
Later, John went for a run with his best friend, Matthew, who was chattering on about his new boat while John was ruminating on that night’s upcoming marriage counseling appointment.
“John! Earth to John,” said Matthew. “Dude, are you in there?”
Shaking his head, John replied, “Huh? Umm, yeah. Sorry, man. I must have zoned out.”
Matthew and John had been best friends since Kindergarten, and he was the first person Heather and John ever told about our company. Over the years, Matthew had been a great sounding board about work and about his rocky marriage.
“Are you still dreading tonight?” he asked.
Last week at counseling, Emily suggested that Heather and John role play to get into the mood. For once, John had agreed. Normally, John tuned the woman out, but this was something he thought he could get into.
“Not anymore, man,” John said. “I think I’ve got the perfect game to play. I'm just hoping Heather is up for the challenge!”
As he cleaned himself up after the run, he remembered how back in the day, he and Heather used to bang like animals on the regular. Tonight, he was hoping to get back to the way things were.
Chapter 2
Heather
This was about par for the course. John had accepted work calls all through dinner, immediately taken off to go run with Matthew, and left Heather and the girls to clean up after dinner.
Not that Heather needed to clean. They were certainly rich enough for a housekeeper. Hell, they could have hired an entire household staff, if Heather had expressed interest in that.
But she and John had made a pact when they first made their millions. Things would not change. They would stay the same down to earth people they were. Heather enjoyed cooking and cleaning and raising the girls. The only thing that set her apart from the average stay at home mom was all of her social engagements.
With the money they had, every philanthropic organization from here to Timbuktu wanted a slice of the pie. Heather was always glad to help. She was a pleaser, after all. And before she knew it, she was head of a foundation that helped dig wells and buy livestock for families in developing countries; was the secretary of the board that oversaw the local no-kill animal shelter; served on the local hospital advisory board for some reason; and currently she was in charge of the biggest annual fundraising event for a national foundation that helped encourage young girls to pursue careers in technology. More money; more responsibilities.
She had about a million texts and emails to respond to related to all of their causes, and still help the girls finish their homework. The sitter would have to do it, she thought, as she got dressed for that evening’s appointment with Emily. As much as she didn’t want the sitter to have that responsibility, it was important for Heather to put their marriage first. She loved John intensely, but he was hardly ever home. And when he was, he still kind of … wasn’t.
And then, to top off this horrendous day, Heather noticed the cat had barfed on the bedspread. Again. It was John’s cat. He had insisted on taking the cat home as a good faith gesture when they had started their work with the animal shelter. Well, the stupid cat hated Heather. Heather was beginning to believe that the cat saved up its hairballs on purpose, to pick just the right moment to piss Heather off.
She sighed and began stripping the bed just as John walked into the room, all sweaty from his run.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
Heather did not make eye contact, but continued to work. “Your cat ralphed all over everything.”
“Huh,” he replied. “Maybe we need to take her to the vet.”
“Or we could just toss her out the window,” Heather sneered sarcastically.
To her surprise, John stopped and helped her re-make the bed.
Heather could not help crack a smile as he struggled with tucking the corners in the same way that Heather always did. She watched him, his hulking frame dripping sweat onto the sheets. She suddenly did not care a thing about perfectly-made beds or clean sheets.
She saw herself picking up a pillow and tossing it at John’s shoulder, catching him by surprise and knocking him on to the mattress.
She watched in her mind’s eye as he laughed and shouted, “what are you doing, Missy?” while pulling her down to the mattress with him with his ripped arms circling around her, making her feel silly and 18 again.
She pictured him ripping off her skirt and tearing at her panties, and her losing herself in his sweaty body, tasting his damp, salty neck and chest and running her hands through his mussed, graying hair. She remembered how he used to claim her with his mouth, holding her tight like he was afraid someone might steal her away.
But that was a long-ago fantasy. The reality in front of her was her husband cussing and giving up, and heading off to shower.
She had half a mind to join him in there, but the cat vomit and all the cussing and frustration had changed her mood in a split second.
Heather wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and pulled herself together.
She finished making the bed alone, greeted their sitter, and then she and John were off to counseling.
Chapter 3
John
He secretly hoped his wife would have found her way into the shower with him after his run.
She looked so damn cute making sure the wrinkles were out of the sheets that he couldn't help his dick from swelling. Sadly, she never joined him. Another cold shower for John.
The tension in the car on the way to marriage counseling was suffocating. John was still at a loss for how they had grown apart so fast.
“So, are you ready to talk with Emily about our role-play game tonight?” he asked as he slowed the car at a traffic light. “I've been thinking about it all day at work.”
Heather wasn't making any efforts to talk to John; he was pr
etty sure she was still upset over Chloe throwing up again on the bed. Hell, he’d only agreed to adopt the damn cat because he thought it was what she had wanted. Why else would she make them volunteer at the animal shelter? Besides, the poor cat had seen better days.
John thought about taking another stab at a conversation and peered over at Heather as he waited for the light to change. She was sound asleep, her head against the window.
Watching her body give in to sleep was like a punch in the gut. He desperately wanted to see her respond to him with a smile and conversation, but he was in awe of how gorgeous she was as she slept. Her eyes closed, her face free of tension, her shoulders relaxed. Her hands open; no phone or day planner in sight. In this moment, she was still the delicious young female he knew in high school.
A few moments later they arrived at Emily’s office and John gave Heather a gentle shake on the shoulder. He quickly realized how much of a mistake that was, as her shoulder instantly tensed up under his touch.
“Are we here already?” she asked, slightly dazed.
“We just pulled in,” John said. “You fell asleep miles ago.”
They each sat there staring at the other in complete silence. He was at a loss for words, as she looked like she wanted him to say something. But time was ticking and their time with Emily wasn’t cheap.
