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I’m starting to get used to this.’ Rio can’t help thinking as he and Elizabeth get ready for bed in her bathroom with it’s peach colored towels and a ‘two person’ tub that just barely fits the both of them. They’d tried once or twice before firmly deciding to stick to one of the top of the line spas at Boland Bubbles. He was already perusing the various websites that boasted antique clawfoot bathtubs that could hold an army battalion comfortably for his own loft. But there was no guarantee that Marcus wouldn't commandeer it with his various action figures.
It’s difficult to get your woman in the mood when Spiderman is straddling the faucet spout.
He’d stayed at Elizabeth Boland’s (soon to be Marks) house for six out of seven days last last week. Then it’d been his week with Marcus and her’s with her quartet, a time in which they’d texted each other but didn’t encroach further.
Just small things.
*how’d the drop go?*
*good*
*Jane won’t stop watching snail videos on my laptop*
*Marcus might have shared his newest obsession with her*
*Can you pick up a bottle of red before coming over?*
*Yeah what you makin?*
*Braised short ribs with a cheese and potato soufflé*
*I'm leaving your house with an extra twenty pounds aren’t I?*
*With any luck, winter's coming and sometimes I wonder how you survive being so skinny.*
*There are other ways to stay warm Elizabeth…*
Now he was back for another full week and the first day which was a Monday, after they’d both clocked out and confirmed that the other parents had made the school pick-up, was spent mostly in bed together.
He pats himself on the back for convincing her to splurge on the ergonomic memory foam mattress, even Elizabeth had begrudgingly agreed that Rio was right when after a number of rounds she’d awoken the next morning with none of her usual back pain. He vaguely hinted that her old mattress had somehow gotten lost when he’d eventually given back most of her stuff ignoring the fact that almost everything else besides Dean’s possessions was accounted for.
He was willing to bet the world was not somehow lesser for the lack of Dean’s Big Mouth Billy Bass or high school football trophies.
But tonight was Tuesday and they’d both had a pretty rough day.
Not shoot a supplier because he couldn’t deliver ‘bad’ or getting yelled at by some Karen whose husband decided to splurge 10 grand on a spa without consulting his wife and somehow it was Boland Bubbles i.e. Beth’s fault ‘bad’ .
But still it’d been a tough day just more along the lines of spill your coffee on your brand new blouse or lose a bet on if the Pistons could make a come-back this season, Mike seriously took advantage of Rio’s eternal optimism that his favorite basketball team would turn it around with that stunt. While Beth had attempted to wash the coffee stain out of the argyle blouse Annie had made some smart ass quip about it making Beth look like a schoolmarm.
When Beth had questioned if her sister actually knew what a ‘schoolmarm’ was all she’d received was a blank stare.
So neither of them was in the mood to ‘get frisky’ (Elizabeth’s words not his) which was a whole new territory for them. They’d been hooking up for the past few months and only weeks ago they’d stopped playing it off as just scratching an itch. This was the very first night they’d be just...sleeping next to each other.
So here they were side by side at 10pm brushing their teeth and preparing for bed. Him bare chested with low hanging black sweats and her in a set of 100% cotton pj’s with tiny yellow daisies embroidered on them.
Sometimes it’s real easy to spot the obvious contrast between Elizabeth and him that everyone gleefully points out.
Brushing and flossing done, trimming his beard complete, he’s just got to wash his face and then it’s off to dreamland with Elizabeth’s softness curled against him.
“What are you doing?”
“Washing my face ma…”He answers without a second thought rubbing the lavender scented bar of hand soap between his palms, he’s brought most of his toiletries but neglected the all in one face wash he usually uses, the soap Elizabeth has on hand should do.
“With that ?” There’s a judgmental edge to her voice that he’s heard from her what feels like a thousand times, the most memorable being when she’d called him an idiot with a silencer pressed to her forehead and tears just shy of escaping her baby blues.
“What else am I supposed to use?” He asks but immediately regrets it as with a wave of her hand Elizabeth opens her medicine cabinet to showcase a plethora of containers, dark glass bottles, round plastic tubes, and squeeze bottles. It’s all meticulously placed in neat tidy rows clearly just like Elizabeth prefers it but means absolutely nothing to him.
“You can’t use hand soap to wash your face! First you have to use an oil based cleanser and then a water based one to make sure your pores are clean and to prevent breakouts.” She demonstrates using a glass pipette to drip some clear looking oil onto her finger tip before rubbing in small counter clockwise motions across her soft unblemished cheeks and forehead.
“Ma you forty two, I think we’re past the point for pimples.” And there goes the cute little pout at the mention of her age; she’s only a few years older but it annoys her a hell of a lot more than it does him whenever it’s brought up.
“ I ...don’t get pimples because I have a routine that I follow, god you’re worse than Annie and her stupid apricot scrub she’s used since high school.” She applies a foamy white substance and wipes it away with a damp pink towel.
He scuffs at being compared to the tiny blonde loud mouth, he’d once seen Annie blindly toss a mostly full bag of stale curly fries into the back seat of her shitty car but not before tasting one just to make absolutely sure they were inedible.
It’d been half impressive and mostly disgusting.
So to keep her happy he applies a pea sized amount and ignoring the microfiber towel she holds out instead choosing to splash water on his face.
He turns to leave the ensuite when he’s stopped by a very subtle and very feminine *ahem* and when he turns back she looks ‘oh so smug’ .
“Now you have to apply niacinamide and this vitamin c serum for a clear and healthy glowing complexion.” She takes the dropper out of both bottles and rubs the ointments onto her pale smooth skin.
“Ma one of those is strictly in orange juice and the other is the main ingredient in those boner pills we sellin.” Rio tries to joke with Elizabeth because frankly this type of prep for something as basic as skin is just a tab bit overboard.
“This is science Rio and it’s something I’ve cultivated over years of trial and error....don’t make me go on about the differences of vitamin c and retinal because oh boy! That is a whole can of worms in and of itself.” She then goes on some sort of tangent mostly muttering to herself about ingredients and vapid beauty gurus.
While she rambles on Rio envisions the next meeting with potential new clients.
“So it’s settled, 80/20 with pills coming across the border and washed cash going back’"Rio murmurs to Gustov, a high ranking member of the Russian mafia based in Ontario who sports a six inch scar over his right eye and an itchy trigger finger.
“Agreed and I must say comrade your face is looking extra plump and youthful this evening, it almost shines against the murky waters of this deserted pier.”
“It’s my girl...she’s got me on this whole skin care routine with creams and shit.” Rio explains turning to imaginary Elizabeth who leans against the G wagon’s hood with a suitcase full of clean money wearing a figure hugging scarlet trench coat, the top three buttons already undone.
In his mind she blows him a kiss.
In reality she’s tapping her foot against the tile of the bathroom floor waiting for him to snap out of it.
“Now I’d suggest a mask of some kind but you’re sadly blemish free...too bad I have a few acid based ones that’ll gladly eat away at your face.” He doesn’t like the gleeful little spark that ignites in her eyes, it usually results in a whole lotta pain on his end.
“I guess we can skip to the moisturizer part and lucky for you I’ve got the good stuff.” Elizabeth practically bounces on her heels before presenting a pot of white cream with a minimalist label, he reads the name and forgets it a moment later.
“How much you spendin on all this mama?” He asks following her instructions to bend down so she can apply the mild smelling cream herself, the tips of her fingers gentle where he would have been rough.
“A lot less than you spend on shoes.” She huffs while making small swirls in the corner of his eyes and brushing a thumb along the length of his sharp nose. He recalls all the times he’d worn a fresh pair of kicks around her from the lowly Jordans to the Saint Laurent's.
One memorable drop where he and Mick had to chase down a flighty underling on foot, Rio’d let out a few choice words about the scuffing of his brand new costra suede Tom Ford’s . Elizabeth had simply rolled her eyes and stated that she was sure that she could find him suitable replacements at Target.
That cheap pair of Converse she’d presented to him a week later now sat in the back of his closet, unworn but there.
“All done! Torture over!” She announces with the same sing-song words she uses when she finishes braiding Jane’s hair in the morning knowing that by the end of the day it’ll be a rat’s nest.
He opens his eyes to see she’s rubbing some into her own face and a genuine smile breaks out across his face.
“What?” She asks with a puzzled expression and it almost makes him laugh.
“Nothin’ Ma just thinking.” He turns back to mirror and admires his new complexion, turning this way and that. Putting on a show that makes her bite her lower lip and roll her eyes.
To be honest his skin does seem to glow under the bathroom light and when he rubs his jaw underneath the trimmed hair his skin does feel a tad bit softer.
“Now can we go to bed?” He asks but his feet are already inching towards the doorway and his hands are sneaking around her waist gently tugging her in the direction he wants.
“Well we could try this new face sculpting technique Ruby showed me…” She teases giggling at the exaggerated eye roll he does before relenting letting him drag her out of the bathroom and over to her brand new impossibly comfortable bed.
They lay side by side facing each other almost too excited to actually go to sleep but eventually the cool room air, the warm of the sheets and comforter, and just the presence of her beside him make Rio’s eyelids heavy. Elizabeth must feel the pull of sleep as well as she shifts onto her other side and scoots back, her curves fitting perfectly against his hard lines.
“Big day tomorrow…” Her voice is barely even a whisper as his hand wraps around to her front. Rio instinctively knows that at some point in the night it’ll wander under her pajama top though it’s anyone's guess if it’ll stick to caressing her stomach and hips or venture...higher.
“Hmm” He agrees only half listening just a few more seconds and he’ll be gone.
“You’ve got two drops back to back and I’m interviewing for a new salesman to take over for Linda while she’s on maternity leave.”
“...mmm” Just two more moments.
“Just imagine how great your skin will look after we do our morning skincare routine.” She sighs and snuggles deeper into his arms, “It’s got a few extra steps no more than twenty.”
“Woman!”