Page 62 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

“Good. We’ve got plenty of leftovers from earlier.”

We head back downstairs and into the kitchen. James watches me while I eat, occasionally grabbing a bite for himself with a childish smirk as he twirls his fork through the spaghetti. “This came out really good,” he laughs.

“You used fresh tomatoes for the sauce?”

“Greenhouse produce, but yeah.”

“They still make all the difference.”

“Did you talk to Shauna about the flowers?” he asks.

My appetite flies out the window. “She wasn’t available. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“I can call her, you know.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to handle this on my own.”

James inches closer, carefully eyeing me. “Why, Elise?”

“Because whoever sent those flowers, they sent them to me. I should be able to figure something so simple out on my own, don’t you think?”

“If you want my help—”

“I know,” I reply with a soft smile. “Want another bite?”

The front door opens and closes with a thud. I hear their boots as they head into the kitchen. Oliver and Roman join us, both smiling with radiant satisfaction.

“I take it you signed all the renewal extensions today,” James concludes.

“Mrs. Phelps from the drugstore even got her cousin with the bridal shop involved. We’re looking at a new client in Rusticfor next year,” Oliver says. “It’s a small contract, but the whole town is switching to our agency. I reckon we’ll have all the local businesses by the end of next year.”

We laugh and talk as we eat. They drink wine. I stick to lemonade, pretending I have a mild headache and that drinking alcohol would probably make it worse. They tell me about their day, I lie about mine. It’s warm and comfy; it’s home.

Every minute I spend in James, Oliver, and Roman’s company feels like torture.

I don’t know how to say goodbye to them.

So I make love to them instead.

Once they’re fast asleep, I slither out of bed like a snake in the grass and rush to my room. I pack just enough for the road, then grab my wallet, my phone, and the few precious belongings I have left. I sold the wedding band and a handful of jewels I got from Igor’s father when I needed a security deposit for Mr. Ronald’s cabin.

Light on my feet, I head downstairs, carefully fishing the Ford keys out of the catchall bowl without a single jingle resonating through the house. It tears me apart on the inside, but they’re better off with me as far away from them as possible.

I reach for the door…

The hallway light comes on.

“Elise?” James’s voice travels down the stairs, making my whole body stiffen with shame and dread. Slowly, I turn around, keys in my jacket pocket, phone in one hand, bag slung over my shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Five minutes later I’m sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace.

Embers still glow from the earlier fire in a pile of dark ashes, the warmth radiating and softening my red cheeks.

James stands by the window, wearing nothing but boxer briefs. His arms are crossed, and each breath he takes sounds louder than usual. “I need to understand what the fuck is going on here,” he says.

“You have to talk to us, Elise,” Oliver pleads, equally distraught.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, trying to breathe as tears sting my eyes.

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