Page 5 of Forsaken Vows

"We’re just taking a short walk to my house."

Still, she hesitated, tucking her plush lips between her teeth, but eventually, she nodded. "Alright, let me grab my coat and shoes."

She left the door open. The house was cooler than outside and smelled like freshly baked cake. I wondered if that was all she did—cook and clean. Did she have a job? Probably not. She only ever left the house for a short while without her husband and always came back with shopping bags.

"I’m back," she said in a soft voice, stepping into my personal space. Up close she smelled like strawberries and vanilla. She had changed into a T-shirt with Whitney Houston's face on it, a silk-looking skirt that stopped above her knees, and a pair of slides.

As she stepped outside, I felt a pang of guilt. I was about to destroy her world.

Chapter 4- Zane

I didn’t know why I was following the giant man who lived down the street. He wasn’t much more than a stranger to me who happened to live in the same neighborhood, but something in his pretty eyes had pulled at something in me. Now he was speed-walking, and I struggled to keep up with him in the middle of the night. His grip on my arm was tight as fuck, but I don’t think he noticed.

I couldn’t guess what he wanted me to see that involved my husband. He was in Miami for business.

But maybe whatever it was could explain why Mark had changed so much.

He led me down the side of his house. The path was dark and silent, causing goosebumps to pebble my skin. My left hand gripped the blade in my pocket. I wasn’t stupid. I had grabbed it when I went back in the house just in case.

Sam stopped at a window in the back, nodding for me to look. I already had a bad feeling, but I pushed up on my tiptoes anyway.

“This is not the first time they’ve done this,” I whispered to myself more than Sam.

The kisses were too sweet, their touches too intimate. Bile rose in my throat. My knees buckled, and I would have collapsed if Sam hadn’t scooped me up effortlessly.

Despite the chaos in my mind, my brain decided to focus on all the wrong things. I wasn’t a small woman, but Sam lifted me like I was. It was kind of sexy. I wanted to laugh at the thought. Was I losing my mind? I had just witnessed my husband having sex with another woman and I was thinking about how sexy her husband was. I had to be losing my mind.

Sam took charge. He carried me to his car parked down the block. His arms were solid around me, his chest warm against my side. I was glad it was dark out and none of the neighbors could see us.

He opened the passenger door, lowered me into the seat with more care than I expected—like I was glass. He leaned, his body crowding my personal space, his arm brushing my breast. The click of the seatbelt echoed in the quiet of the night. His knuckles grazed my hip—too slow to be accidental, or maybe I had imagined it.

I held my breath as heat prickled up my neck. His fingers lingered, rough pads catching on the thin fabric of my shirt. His exhale warmed my collarbone, and for a stupid, reckless second, I wondered what his mouth would feel like there instead. My skin hummed thought. His scent messed with my sense. He smelled like cedar and smoke. Maybe paint. And there was the faint trace of whiskey. He smiled manly.

Then he stepped back, and cool air rushed in replacing his warmth.

But his eyes stayed on me. He watched at me. Stared, actually. His eyes traced my face like he was trying to read something written just beneath the skin. They touched my mouth, my cheeks, my wet lashes, everywhere. I couldn’t look back. I felt too naked and vulnerable.

What was he searching for?

Permission? Weakness? The raw, ugly truth.

My cheeks flushed hot.

My reaction made no sense to me, even now, with my heart in pieces and my husband’s betrayal fresh between us, my body reacted to this strange man in a way my body had never reacted to anyone before.

Then suddenly his eyes darkened, and his jaw ticked. Like he’d found it—whatever he was looking for—and didn’t like it.

“You’re beautiful, you know that, right? Fuck him.” he said, voice low.

The words hit something soft in me, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just sat there, humming from his compliment, and in the same breath, feeling the need to sob.

He let out a long breath through his nose, like he was really fucking tired. “I shouldn’t have let you see that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded, though I wasn’t.

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