Page 43 of Forgotten Romance

Well, I can’t tell him we slept together, so what other reason could I possibly come up with other than this sucks and it’s hard and I want my Mack back? Another sigh balloons in my chest over my situation, but I smother it aggressively.

“Remember when you were all stupid eyes and falling for Joey?”

“Never happened.”

“Yeah. Right. You definitely didn’t stalk him at work or anything.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

My laugh is soft and short, just enough to release this tension. “Well, remember that feeling, and then picture having it every day from the second you wake up to the second you fall asleep.”

Art slows his footsteps, and we hover in the hall outside of where the festival planning is taking place. “Have you given more thought to my suggestion?”

“Yes, and I appreciate you offering me somewhere to live.” It means more than he knows. “I …”

“Want to continue torturing yourself.” He nods. “Got it.” Art stuffs his hands in the pockets of the expensive dress pants he’s wearing. “You’re both my friends. I give you both my opinion on what I think is best for your own scenario, not taking the other into account. You know I won’t tell Mack that I’ve offered you somewhere rent-free for the weeks you’re home, but I still think it’s the best choice.”

“I’d miss the kids too much.” And Mack. I’d miss him too much too. Plus, there’s that dark little fear that if I left, Mack would find it easier to move on. He’d forget about me, and all the Lukes in Kilborough could show up for him whenever he wanted.

None of those thoughts are ones I’ll be sharing with Art. I trust that he doesn’t share our conversations around, even though he has a reputation for being a loudmouth—under that playboy persona, he’s a great friend.

“Also, I don’t think I ever thanked you for offering to blow my husband.” I narrow a glare his way, and Art cracks up laughing.

“I wondered if he’d tell you. He missed his chance now I’m locked down, but what did you expect me to do? A man should not go that long without getting laid. It’s unnatural. Not to mention you’ve probably slept with whoever you wanted—he had to get the first orgasm out of the way.”

Art goes to keep walking like he hasn’t dropped a huge bomb on my head.

“Wait.” I grab his arm and yank him to a stop. “What do you mean?”

“Ah …” His gaze flicks from me to the door and back again. “I don’t mean anything. I laughed, and then I said nothing. Not a thing.”

“Mack hasn’t slept with anyone?”

Art’s expression hardens. “You didn’t hear it from me. Don’t look into it. This was months ago, and I have no idea if that’s still the case.”

Something in his face twitches, making me suspicious. “You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Both of his hands land on my shoulders. “You and your ex-husband are both pains in my ass. That’s what. Now we’re late, and you know how I am about punctuality.”

He turns and strides toward the room before I can grab him.

“There was no arrival time,” I call, but it’s too late.

I know I need to follow him, know I need to go in there and help like I said I would, but my gut is breaking out in that wriggly nervous thing it does, and it’s an impossible mission to forget what Art said.

Mack hasn’t slept with anyone either. Or at least, he hadn’t.

Is it still true? Has it felt as wrong for him as it feels for me?

I grit my teeth, wishing these were questions I could ask him. But what’s the point? It’s opening old wounds up for the both of us, and we’re going through enough. Things have been normal, but … not exactly strained or awkward, just different. It’s like every time I catch him looking at me, we’re back at that night together, and I’m aching to kiss him again. I can already see it, how easy it would be to fall back into sleeping together. To forget about the worries we had and delude ourselves into thinking it will be different this time.

I don’t trust Mack to be strong, so I’m going to have to do the work for both of us. Which starts with forgetting what Art let slip, helping with this festival planning, and not climbing Mack like a tree the second I’m home.

We get into it, and I offer suggestions for how to better manage the volunteer schedules. They’ve also got stalls set up way too far from the entrance/exit, which logistically would be the best place for them. I know that after taking Kiera and Van around, they’ll be hungry and tired, so having that option on the way to the car would be a godsend.

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