Chapter 8: The Confession and the Strap-On

The kitchen still smelled of lemon and garlic when Becca pushed back from the table, gathering plates with that easy, practiced grace Danielle had always admired. Matt watched his daughter move—the sway of her hips beneath her soft cotton shorts, the copper spill of her hair over one shoulder—and felt the familiar ache stir low in his gut. But not now. Not yet.

He leaned close to Danielle, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Danielle’s eyes flicked to him, curious but not alarmed. She nodded, dabbing her mouth with a napkin before rising from her chair.

“Becca, sweetheart, we’ll be right back,” Danielle said, her voice smooth and untroubled.

Becca glanced up from the sink, her green eyes sharp, questioning. Matt gave her a subtle shake of his head, barely a twitch, and watched her expression shift—something like relief, something like disappointment. He followed Danielle down the hall to their bedroom and closed the door behind them.

The room was cool and dim, the late afternoon sun slanting through the blinds. Danielle turned to face him, arms folded loosely under her breasts, that regal composure settling over her like a second skin.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Matt crossed to the dresser, the carpet soft under his bare feet. He opened the top drawer, pushed aside a tangle of socks, and pulled out what he’d come for.

The strap-on was black, sleek, well-worn at the base where it fitted against the harness. He held it up, dangling it from one finger.

“Do you remember when I objected to this,” he said, “and you told me to broaden my horizons?”

Danielle’s mouth opened, then closed. Her composure cracked, just for an instant. She uncrossed her arms, one hand going to her throat.

“You and Jeff?” The words came out breathless, almost a giggle.

Matt nodded, letting the strap-on swing gently between them. “The girls were asleep in their own tent. Jeff and I had a few intimate moments. That’s all.”

For a long second, Danielle just stared at him. Then she burst out laughing—a rich, unguarded sound that filled the room and caught Matt off guard. She doubled over, one hand braced on the footboard, her shoulders shaking.