Page 35 of Breathless With Her

And it had been shared with a man who wasn’t my husband.

I had thought that Nicholas would be my forever, my happily ever after and all of that where you go riding off into the sunset with the love of your life. But that wasn’t meant to be. And now I had slept with another man. It had been different. And warm. And amazing. I had been brazen and loved it. I’d asked for exactly what I wanted and got it and more. Devin had been careful, caring, both hard and fast, exactly what I needed. Actually, he’d been exactly what I hadn’t known I needed.

But when I got home, it had been too much. I’d showered, washing him off, not because I didn’t want him to stay, but because I needed to find myself again.

What was wrong with me? Why did I have this need to constantly discover who I was when it didn’t make any sense at all?

I was still sore because it had been long enough at this point since I had been with any man, and Devin was different.

A good kind of different.

I didn’t know what that meant. Especially because I didn’t want another relationship. I had been honest with Devin, and I hoped he had been truthful with me. Because I had been there. Done that. I didn’t want to get married again. I didn’t want to rely on someone to the point where I could have my heart broken again. I wanted to find out who this new me was. Because I loved my job, and I enjoyed parts of my life. I just wanted to fix the rest of it. But I didn’t need a man to do that.

So, I would find this new Erin. The new woman who happened to sleep with Devin Carr.

And I would have fun, I would be respectful, and I would be respected at the same time. Because Devin would take care of me. And I would do my damndest to take care of him.

As long as neither of us had to truly rely on each other.

Maybe thinking that made me a bad person. But then again, I would find out exactly what kind of person I was, wouldn’t I?

I needed to put Devin out of my thoughts for now, though, because I didn’t want to think about him while Nicholas was in my territory.

I growled under my breath.

My ex had called that morning, waking me up after a nice sleep-in. I had the whole day off, something I tried to give myself once a week even if I didn’t always make it happen. And though I was still working online on things and planning things out, I wasn’t in the bakery. My staff was handling that part for me. It wasn’t easy handing over the reins, and I didn’t do it often, but today was supposed to be that day. So, of course, Nicholas just had to ruin it for me.

He always ruined things.

“No, I’m not going to think like that. I’m not going to let him wreck this for me.”

I growled just a little at myself and rolled back my shoulders as I paced my living room. When we split up our belongings and sold the house, Nicholas had moved into a small condo, not knowing what his next step was. That meant that all the junk he’d kept in the garage didn’t fit at his new place. And, for some reason, I had let him keep it in my new garage.

I shook my head. No, I knew exactly why I’d done it. He’d needled me, pressed me, and annoyed me to the point where I had just given in. Like I had so many times throughout our relationship. Most times, I didn’t even realize what had happened until it was too late. Like when he had been laid off from his other realtor firm when the housing market went bust, and I had given in to him taking some time off to figure out what he wanted to do. Or when he’d tried to open up his own firm and failed. I gave in then, too, and had been okay with him taking out a loan in both of our names because he was my husband. And I thought he knew best.

Thank God he had paid that off eventually. Thank goodness none of his debt was now in my name.

Because divorce hurt your credit, and I wanted nothing to do with Nicholas.

Thank God he hadn’t been on the deed to the bakery. I had gotten it on my own, mostly because I had been working for another bakery, so I had full-time income and a successful business plan. It hadn’t made sense to put Nicholas on the business since he wasn’t working for me.

Maybe some part of me had always known that things might get worse between us as time moved on. I didn’t know. All I did know was that I was beyond grateful that he couldn’t touch my future. I loved cake decorating. I adored making things for people that made them smile. And I loved baking things that tasted amazing.

Nicholas had never understood any of that.

He had always thought my baking was a hobby. But I made money on the side, moonlighting while working for other people.

I always had an extra cushion, so when Nicholas lost his job, we were okay. Things had been tight, sure, but we had been okay.

And things were okay now. Things weren’t as tight, even though I lived like they were.

And taking a day off for myself was good for my health.

Apparently, Nicholas was moving into a larger home and would have space for his stuff now. That meant he would finally take the boxes in my garage. Things I really wanted to burn or just toss into the garbage. Or, hell, give it all to charity as a donation and see what was in them. Because I hadn’t even opened them to peek.

Once or twice, I had thought that maybe there was drugs or something in them. Because I still didn’t know if him snorting coke off Becca’s boobs had been the first time or the last time or one of many. But a friend who had a canine drug dog had let him sniff around the boxes, and he hadn’t detected anything. I didn’t know if that was entirely on the up and up, but I hadn’t cared. I didn’t want to open them. Didn’t want to see evidence of any other secrets that might destroy another piece of me. Because I had been holding onto the parts of myself that I still had with broken fingernails as it was. I had been clawing to hold onto that remaining part of my soul. And I hadn’t wanted to tarnish anything else, didn’t want to lose anything else by opening a box. So, a friend had helped a bit. And based on that experiment, I didn’t think there were drugs in there. Because, hell, that would just be one more thing Nicholas would have tried to fuck me over with.

Before I could get myself worked up to a good mad again, the doorbell rang, followed by three sharp raps. A pause, and then four more knocks.

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