Page 2 of The Husband Situation

Yet, here she stood, only inches from the person she, in all likelihood, smashed genitals with, and she hesitated, fingers trembling.

It’s a cover, woman. A simple cover. You’ve wrestled three fingers of scotch from your mother after Kayla broke off her engagement. You can handle a stranger in your bed. Besides, the person underneath has probably seen you naked, and maybe even twisted you like a pretzel in all kinds of positions you might’ve enjoyed. A glimpse at his or her face shouldn’t be an issue.

As far as pep talks went, it was one of her better ones. And it must’ve worked because she gritted her teeth, marched the few steps separating her from the bed, snagged the corner of the cover and yanked it back.

Horror slammed into her, and her racing pulse added another cacophonous note in her head.

“No,” she whispered, fisting the lapels of her robe together. “It... We...No.”

She couldn’t force anything else out past her constricted throat. Not words and barely breath.

That face. Half of it might be pressed into the pillow but she knew that face.

The closely cut dark blond hair. The sharp, angular cheekbones. The thick fringe of long lashes. The narrow, patrician nose. The dusting of hair along his jaw and surrounding his mouth. And yeah, that mouth...

Her belly flipped like a gold-medal gymnast as she forcefully dragged her gaze from those damn near obscenely full lips to the closed eyes. She knew they were a startling shade of turquoise, and a person could imagine themselves swimming in the warm, gorgeous waters of the Maldives when staring into them.

Okay, fine. It was her. She wasa person.

But noticing their beauty and peering into them while she orgasmed were two totally different things.

One, he was her friend and employee.

Two, he was her sister’s ex-boyfriend.

Oh no. This had Brooklyn’s Biggest Mistake Evah scrawled all over it. In neon graffiti.

“Patrick,” she called his name. When he didn’t stir, she cleared her throat and tried again, louder this time. “Patrick.”

Nothing.

His back rose and fell, so he wasn’t dead. Imagine explainingthatto Kat Owens, her business partner and best friend.I took our employees to Vegas for a pre-Christmas retreat and apparently fucked one of them to death.Thank God for small favors she could now avoid that particular conversation.

“Patrick.” She shifted closer and nudged his shoulder—his bare shoulder.

Wow, did the man house a furnace in that big body? His skin burned hot to the touch. Deliberately, she kept her gaze on his shoulder and above. Because if she’d woken up naked...Oh boy. Was it a blessing or a curse that she couldn’t remember what all lay stretched out beneath those blankets that seemed an even starker white against all that golden, taut skin...?

Don’t even go there, sister.

“Patrick, wake up,” she ordered, shoving him a little harder.

A low moan emanated from him, a small frown wrinkling his forehead. One second passed. Then two. And another. Finally, those ridiculously long, dense lashes fluttered and lifted. And a sliver of blurry turquoise appeared. His lids lowered again, and she swallowed an impatient sigh, moving closer to shove him again. But instead, he flipped over onto his back, exposing a wide expanse of mouthwatering muscles, skin and...nipples.

Girl, stop staring at that man’s nipples!

So her scrutiny dipped to a corrugated ladder of muscles lining either side of his torso and a flat belly that, once upon a time, she would’ve traded her younger sister for. Well, to be fair, she would’ve given Kayla away for free as long as they signed an NDA and a No Return disclosure, but that was neither here nor there.

And she was staring. Hard. But goddamn. Patrick had been hidingthatunder his clothes all this time?

Jerking her attention back to his face, where it was safe, she met his hooded but sharpened gaze.

“Finally.” She crossed her arms, wrestling down the rising panic and increasing sense of powerlessness that scrabbled for a foothold in her chest.

He squinted at her. “What’re you doing in my room?” he asked, his voice all grit and gravel as he stretched.

And no, a shiver did not work its way down her spine.

“Your room?” She scoffed, tightening her arms across her chest. “Sorry to break it to you, guy, but last time I checked, this room is reg—holy shit!What is that, thatthingon your hand?”

---