Page 73 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

The door to the lobby swings open as I stand back up. A shadow fills the doorway, the face obscured. It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s his broad shoulders or his scent or just his sheer presence, I know exactly who it is.

Great. Fantastic. Could this morning get any better?

“What’s going on here?”

I wince as Rafe’s voice cracks through the lobby like a whip. Thomas grips the nightie as he whirls to face Rafe.

“Who are you?”

I bite down on my lip as a very inappropriate giggle builds in my throat at the sight of Thomas squaring off against Rafe. The two are similar in height. But Thomas lacks Rafe’s sheer presence, the confidence that rolls off him as Rafe pinpoints him with an icy gaze.

“Thomas, it’s okay.”

Thomas shifts to stand between me and Rafe. It would be sweet if the whole situation weren’t so absurd, like watching a gazelle stare down a furious lion.

“You know him?”

“I’m her husband.”

I see Thomas’s shoulders fall. Guilt intrudes. It’s ridiculous, I know. I’ve never once led the boy on. But I still feel bad as he turns to look back at me with a crestfallen expression.

“You’re married?”

I raise my chin, determined to keep at least some semblance of my dignity intact despite this whole mess.

“I am.”

Thomas’s eyes flicker down to my left hand.

“You’re not wearing a ring.”

“She just told you she’s married.” Rafe stalks toward Thomas. Before I can open my mouth, he rips the nightie out of Thomas’s hands. “Stay away from her.”

“Rafe!”

He ignores me, advancing toward Thomas so that he has nowhere to go but backward until he slams into a wall.

“If you ever come near my wife again, I will track you down and make your life a living hell.”

My jaw drops. Thomas stutters out some inane reply before dumping my groceries on a sideboard table and making a beeline for the stairs. He avoids even looking in my direction as he takes the steps two at a time.

Silence falls. Seething, I navigate over to the table and balance with my hip so that I can repack my bag. I grit my teeth against the pain still pulsing in my leg.

“Why are you here? Again?” I snap as I shove the greens inside.

“To talk with you about your proposal.”

His matter-of-fact tone grates over my nerves even as his words make my breath catch.

God, get it together, Tessa.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened here.” His voice is just over my shoulder now and, despite my irritation, awareness slides down my spine. “That boy has a crush on you.”

“Yes, he does.”

“He didn’t know you were married.”

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