Page 125 of The Homemaker
I wrinkle my nose and mimic under my breath, “We’re done talking when I say we’re done talking.”
“I can hear you.” He grabs my arm and spins me around just as I step into the laundry room.
This isn’t funny. It’s heartbreaking, yet I can’t seem to wipe the grin off my face.
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny.” He narrows his eyes. “And you knowgoodis not the word that describes us when we have sex.”
“I’m not having sex with you,” I say, despite his face inches from mine. Despite my breathy words. “You can say ‘hi’ a million times. But it’s not happening. I’m done being the other woman. I’m a homemaker, not a home-wrecker.”
His lips twitch. “Is that so?”
I tip my chin up and give him a quick nod.
“I’m not in the mood anyway.” He turns and disappears around the corner.
My jaw drops.What?
I jolt toward the door as a few choice words get ready to take flight.
“Hi,” he whispers, perched around the corner, scaring the hell out of me.
I gasp just as his mouth seals to mine. His kiss is all-consuming.He’sall-consuming. Every ounce of self-control dies, taking my conscience to the grave with it.
It’s not until I stop trying to resist him that he lets me go. We stare at each other through wild eyes and labored breaths.
“Why do you want to move to Edina?” he asks, then rubs the red lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand.
I squint. “I never told you I was looking at a house in Edina.”
His jaw clenches.
“Inevertold you that.”
“Can you answer the question?”
“Can you tell me why you followed me?”
After a little standoff, he crosses his arms over his chest, but it’s not going to protect him.
I deflate. “Just marry her and forget about me.”
He grabs my arm again when I brush past him, but this time, he doesn’t force me to face him. “I want to trust you.”
“Why?” I stare at the floor.
“Because I want to be with you, but if I can’t trust you, it’s never going to work.”
“Blair is?—”
“I don’t want to marry Blair!”
I stiffen with my breath held, mind reeling because he’s so angry.
He releases my arm and steps back into the wall, dropping his head against it. “I don’t want to marry Blair,” he repeats in a calmer tone. “And you fucking know that.”
I lift my head, and without turning to face him, I murmur, “My son lives in Edina.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
