Page 80 of Undone, Love Times Three

“How much longer are you in tonight?” Aaron asks.

I walk back through the shop and head for the counter to check the books for my next client. “Couple more hours. I’ve only got one person coming in tonight.”

“When is the boss due back?” Juno asks.

“Tonight, at some point,” I say, checking my phone. There are no messages.

“Sooner than you think, I got a call before.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I look up at Aaron.

“You were in the zone. We all know not to disturb you. Chill out, Ansel.”

I wave him off and go to the break room at the back of the shop to grab a nice cuppa. I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine so late butif I want to get through this shift, I’ll need it. Flying to New York and back in two days took it out of me.

Although I don’t live in Vancouver, I made that up because it was one night.

Boston, where I live, isn’t so far from New York but it’s not like I jumped a train from London to Liverpool.

We don’t close until eleven. It feels like I’ve barely sat down when I’m called back out front.

“Ansel, your nine thirty is here!”

Slapping my palm against my knee, I shove to my feet, downing the tea, which isn’t hot enough to scald my vocal cords, and set the empty mug in the sink. I’ll come back and wash it later. After washing my hands, I shove my hair out of my face and head out to the shop floor.

There is a woman at the counter, with long raven colored hair, wearing a skintight black dress and red heels. She turns around to face me as I emerge from the hallway.

My eyes widen and I stare at the familiar tattoo on her shoulder. The one I ran my tongue over two nights ago at the hotel in New York.

Her jacket falls to her side, and she flips her hair as our eyes lock. My heart pounds as I take in her gorgeous face. The light reflects on something on her hand and I stare at it. At the engagement and wedding rings on her finger.

She wasn’t wearing a ring the other night.

And I’m glad it’s back on her finger now.

“Hey babe,” I walk towards her.

“Hi there, handsome,” she steps into my open arms. “Miss me?”

“More than you know,” I smirk, then kiss her. “Your flight back okay?”

“It would have been better if youcame,” she gives me a naughty look.

I grin back and squeeze her ass, then kiss the tattoo on her shoulder. The one I gave her the night we got engaged.

“You two are gross,” Aaron says, mock gagging. “Can you take this reunion elsewhere? You gotta stop going out of town if this is the shit we gotta put up with when you get back, Hol.”

“You’re fired, Aarron,” Hollie says, without looking at him, stroking her fingers through my hair as she keeps her gaze locked with mine.

“Yeah, yeah, heard that before, boss,” he grumbles as he walks away. He goes over to my client and offers her a drink.

I share another kiss with my boss. Who is also my smoking hot wife. Taking her hand, I lift it up and kiss her wedding ring.

Hollie gives me a sultry look, almost identical to the one she gave me across the bar at the hotel in New York.

It was her idea to be strangers in a bar. She texted to make sure I got home ok and told me she enjoyed my Canadian in town for a family wedding back story. Hollie was in New York for a work-related thing.

Every year, on our anniversary, we pretend to be strangers who meet by chance. Coming up with elaborate lives for our alter egos is one of the best parts about what we do. Not that our marriage needs strengthening. This woman is it for me. I’m fucking lucky to have her call herself my wife.

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