Page 62 of Dirty Plans

I walk over to my Rav-4 and get inside, letting my head rest back on the seat.

Dammit. Tasia is right.

I need to go home and have a good, long think. I’ll break out my pro-con list and figure my shit out.

I can’t believe how close we came to …

Had it not been for Myles’ interruption, I’m not sure what would have happened. All I know is I had no thoughts whatsoever of pulling away. And that scares the hell out of me.

Ishouldhave pulled away.

Resolving myself, I sit up straight and turn the engine on. The traffic home isn’t terrible and by the time I pull into my driveway, I’m so ready to brainstorm myself out of this conundrum.

Rather than park in the garage, the way I normally would, I pull up next to the house and leave the car on the driveway, so I’m closer to the door. I grab my purse and keys and make my way to the house, deep in thought.

There’s so much apprehension swirling around a ball of what feels like …hope?Excitement? I’m not sure what I’m even feeling. All I know is I need to sort out this knot of confusion.

I unlock the door and step inside the foyer of my two-story Victorian ready to grab a bottle of wine and start with that hot bath Tasia recommended.

I drop my keys and purse on the small stand beside the door and bend down to take off my shoes.

Out of the corner of my eye, movement catches my attention and I spring upright.

My heart hammers in my chest and I grab the nearest thing—an umbrella—so I can defend myself.

I take a few tentative steps forward, ready to knock out my would-be assailant with my weapon.

When I catch a glimpse of a shadow, I pounce forward with my umbrella raised like a sword.

“What are you doing?” the man says, flicking on the light switch.

“Oh,oh—”I scream, pull the umbrella back, and clutch it to my chest.

An amused expression flits over my husband’s face as he tentatively steps forward, takes the umbrella from me, and sets it beside the door. Then, he chuckles softly. “A bit jumpy, I see.”

“Seth—” I blink hard, forcing my insides to calm down.

Did I know he was coming home?

I search my memory banks and come up completely empty. Nope, no mention of coming home. In fact, the last thing he said was something about a new stop he pitched to his editor and he’d be home later than anticipated.

“Hey, honey. Where have you been?” Seth asks, ignoring his near-death experience as he steps forward and wraps me in his embrace. Then, he presses a kiss to my temple.

My heart is still thumping unevenly in my chest as I return his hug and lean into him. He smells like Seth—a combination of the forest and Old Spice. His scent is something I’ve gotten so used to over the years.

“I was working,” I say too quickly, feeling the need to justify my absence, even though there’s nothing to justify. Iwasworking.

He steps back and smiles. “That’s great, sweetie. New gig?”

I nod. “Yeah. The first day, actually.”

“Awesome news. Well done.” He reaches out and runs his hand along my arm.

“Thanks,” I respond, smiling weakly. Normally, I’d be compelled to fill him in on the type of event, but the words get stuck in my throat.

“Looks like we have two things to celebrate tonight,” he says, taking me by the hand and leading me to the kitchen.

I take a deep breath, unsure if I should be grateful he changed the subject or not.

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