How to Kill Your Husband Read Online Free

her and put a hand on her forehead.
    â€œWhat?” Nikki asked, backing away.
    â€œAre you sick or something?” Claire asked good-naturedly.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy are you being so helpful?”
    Nikki shrugged. “It’s your anniversary,” she said. “Aren’t I supposed to do nice things for you today?”
    â€œWho told you that?” Claire asked with a grin.
    â€œYou did,” Nikki said. “You tell us that every year.”
    â€œBut I didn’t have to tell you today,” Claire said. “I’m proud of you. You’re becoming quite a mature young lady.”
    Nikki turned away from the sink and looked at her mother’s outfit. “ Wow . You’re busting out, Mama.”
    â€œ Busting out ?”
    â€œLike, like, your, your breasts. They’re like, like,” she looked closer. “Are they gonna fall out?”
    â€œOh, yes,” Claire confirmed. “But not till I want them to.”
    â€œ Ugh !” Nikki said with a sour expression. “I don’t want to think about you and Daddy— Ah ! Now it’s in my head!”
    â€œLove is a beautiful thing,” Claire said and wrapped her up for a longer hug this time. “One day you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.”
    * * *
    At 6:42 p.m. Claire finally heard her man pull into the garage. She lit a candle on the dining table and went to down to meet him. She smiled and licked her lips when they made eye contact.
    George Hudgens was definitely the strongest, purest, and most handsome man Claire had ever known. He wasn’t in the military anymore, but he still did five hundred push-ups every day ; usually half in the morning and the other half right before bed. He was a tall man, and he was stout. His torso was like the trunk of a mighty oak. His chest was carved like a sculpture.
    He stepped out of his Navigator wearing black slacks with a blue golf shirt tucked in neatly. In one hand he toted the briefcase Claire bought him just a few months ago. In the other arm he cradled a huge vase stuffed with what had to be three dozen roses, some white, some pink. He looked up at Claire as she emerged from the back door and an eager smile lit his face as well.
    George was thirty-six years old, like his wife. His skin was the color of a freshly baked croissant. He liked his head shaved completely bald, and Claire liked it like that too. George never allowed any facial stubble to mar his features. He had thick eyebrows and a stern countenance most of the time, but he looked seriously vexed as he eyeballed his woman this evening.
    Claire stepped to him and put both arms around his neck. He was one of few men she had to look up to. George’s gaze went from her eyes to her cleavage then back again.
    â€œI would marry you all over again. Right now if you wanted,” he said.
    Claire grinned and closed her eyes as they kissed. “Same here, soldier. Same here…”
    * * *
    When they got inside, the kids were eager to spend as much time with their father as possible, but Claire already had a strict schedule in her head, and she aimed to stick to it. She let them read their cards and say how happy they were to have such great parents. She let them ooh and ahh at her flowers, and she even let them see the nice meal she prepared for their wonderful daddy, but after that they had to go.
    When the kids went upstairs, the night took on the romantic aura Claire envisioned. The lobster was succulent, the rice was soft, and the flickering candlelight reminded her of their first anniversary dinner at the Italian Inn, exactly fifteen years ago. They weren’t so well-off back then, and Claire’s ten-dollar lasagna dinner was nowhere near as tasty as today’s lobster, but she loved George just as much now as she did then. Even more so.
    After their meal, Claire led her husband to the bedroom for phase two of the evening’s festivities. George