by C. M. Albert
I relaxed against his chest and looked up at him. “Okay, go ahead.”
“First of all, I want you to know that you’re the single most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. But I never would’ve crossed a line with you, no matter how attracted I am to you. Even though neither of us intended for something like this to happen, I’m so freaking glad Ryan initiated it so I could be with you. Even if it was just this one night, I regret nothing, Olivia. It’s important to me that you know that.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, under the intensity of his gaze.
“I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I do you,” he admitted, brushing a hair from my face, and tucking it behind my ear. “I know it’s wrong—you belong to Ryan. But even if this breaks my heart in the long run, it’ll be worth it. You are worth it, Olivia.”
“Brighton,” I started—but what could I really say?
There was no us. There was Ryan and me—and that didn’t leave room for Brighton beyond last night. I didn’t want to tell him how much it had meant to me, either. How he’d unlocked something buried so deep inside me. How I felt more alive and hopeful this morning than I had in years. I couldn’t tell him everything that was racing through my heart because I didn’t understand all my own feelings, and I needed time to process them. Most of all, none of that would be fair to him. Because at the end of the day, he was right. I was Ryan’s, and I didn’t want to hurt him any more than we probably already had.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to know that if we were both single, I would never let you go,” he said, his voice raspy. “You’d be my end game.”
I choked back a cry, burying my head against his chest.
He soothed my heart as much as he could, giving me a long, soul-melding hug. I prayed it wasn’t his way of saying goodbye. We both knew I could never be his, but I wasn’t ready to not see him anymore. The truth was, I loved being around him—even if we had to go back to being just friends.
“Here,” he said, breaking free from our embrace. He walked over to the writing desk and grabbed a bouquet of sunflowers I’d somehow missed last night—my mind preoccupied with other things. “These were for you. They make me happy, so I thought they might make you a little happier, too.”
My heart hammered as I wrapped my fingers around the bouquet’s stems. I looked up into his now familiar eyes, full of so many things left unsaid between us. The worst part? I wanted nothing more than to stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. To thank him properly for the gorgeous flowers. For the simple act of caring and making me a priority. He hadn’t needed to do that, to get me into his bed last night with Ryan.
The fact that he had told me all I needed to know. And it was a dangerous game that had no winners. I took my flowers into the kitchen and set them on the counter before making my way upstairs, seeking comfort from my husband for the ache in my heart caused by another man.
Chapter 23
Ryan
THE HOT WATER was a relief on my worn-out muscles. I was hurting in places I’d forgotten I had muscles. But last night was amazing—better than I ever could’ve dreamed it would go. The energy and chemistry between the three of us had been so electrifying it was almost scary. I was hard just thinking of the way Livy looked in Brighton’s strong arms. I’d done it for her initially, but the truth was, it ended up being for me, too. I discovered there was nothing sexier than being pleasured by your wife while another man’s face was buried between her thighs. It was something I’d use as fantasy fuel for years to come.
I don’t know how long I stood under the hot spray, hard with longing for my wife. Like magic, she slipped into the shower behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“God, Liv,” I said, turning to face her. I dropped my mouth to hers, the water streaming over us as I took my fill tasting her. I couldn’t wait, though. All the energy and momentum from the evening before came rushing over me, and I had to have her again. I hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around my waist on instinct as I buried myself deep inside of her. She gave herself over to me without hesitation, our bodies colliding until we both climaxed, my name tumbling from her lips. I held her against me in a chest-to-chest embrace until the aftershocks left our exhausted bodies.
I lowered her slowly, and Olivia chuckled when her trembling legs nearly gave out on her. “I think I need something to eat.”
“I think I need something to eat,” I said, grinning mischievously at her. “But let’s get some food in you first.”
She swatted my ass on her way out of the shower, and I loved seeing this side of her again. It had been almost two years since Olivia’s playful side had come out, and it was everything.
She sauntered to her closet naked, a new spring in her step. When she came out, she was wearing one of my favorite summer outfits—a denim skirt, some cute brown ankle boots, and a white, bohemian-style shirt. The gold embroidery lining the V-neck of her shirt drove me to distraction, and all I could think about was tumbling back into bed.
I dressed, watching as she styled her long blond hair into a loose, sexy braid. She spritzed on something sweet smelling, then turned to give me a kiss.
“Meet you downstairs?” she asked, as if this was our normal routine again.
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d gotten ready for our day like this together. I missed the hell out of it. I pulled her into my arms, burying my head in the crook of her shoulder so I could better smell the sweet floral notes of her perfume—something mixed with lemongrass and pineapple. I wanted to devour her, never leaving our room again. The problem with having every inch of Olivia again was that I wanted more. I wanted every bit she would give me before she closed back up. And I was scared it was only a matter of time—as all the other times had been.
“I love you,” I told her. “You were so beautiful last night. We need to talk about it later.”
“I know,” she said, kissing me sweetly. “But not yet. Can we just have some breakfast first, maybe go to the farmer’s market?”
“They got First Street closed again?” I asked.
She nodded. “They have some amazing goat milk candles I want to pick up. And the apples that I love from Ontario Orchard. I’d like to grab a basketful, maybe make an apple crisp for dessert tonight.”
It was my favorite. She was trying, and the effort nearly undid me. It had been so long since she’d done something like this for me. Then a thought occurred to me, like a dark cloud hanging over my head.
“Did you invite Brighton to join us?”
“No. I thought we could make a day of it by ourselves. It’s been a long time since we’ve gone out to do something.”
I pulled her closer. “Like a date?” I asked, hopeful.
“Like a date,” she breathed out. “But first, Brighton is waiting downstairs for the pancakes I promised you guys. And you both have to be starving after last night.”
“You’re right,” I said, kissing her neck one last time.
Then she took my hand and we walked down to the kitchen—to make breakfast for the man I’d let sleep with my wife. The world didn’t get any crazier than this.
BRIGHTON WASN’T IN the kitchen by the time we made our way down. I wish I could say I was disappointed, but it meant I got more of Liv to myself today. While she whipped up her homemade batter, I checked my emails. Even though I wasn’t teaching this summer, I was planning my classes for the fall and keeping up with faculty news and issues.
I was about to set my phone down and help Liv set the table when I got a text from Kerrington.
Had an emergency at the worksite this morning. Had to rush to Watertown for some supplies and a new sink. Tell Olivia I’m sorry to miss out on her famous pancakes. Hope I can get a rain check. See you guys later.
Olivia smiled at me from the stove. “Everything okay at work?”
“Yeah,” I said, standing. I ran a hand over the back of my neck, debating whether to pass his message along. I finally settled on the trut
h, as we always did. “Brighton had an issue at the house. He had to head home for the day to grab some parts.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, it’s no big deal since we’re playing hooky anyway. I wasn’t planning on going over there to work today, were you?”
I hooked my thumbs in her jean skirt, tugging her toward me. “Can’t say I was. I have a date with a hot blond. She’s kinda easy on the eyes. I was hoping I might get lucky later.”
“Your forecast is looking promising,” she said, laughing.
When I ran my hands up her thighs and under her skirt, she swatted me with the spatula. “If a certain sexy professor stops trying to cop a feel and gets busy setting the table, that is. These pancakes won’t serve themselves.”
We spent the rest of the day eating our breakfast, winding our way down the closed streets of the farmer’s market, and then eating ice cream at Bev’s on the lake. We’d brought Stitch with us, and he was excited to see the water for the first time, barking at the aggressive seagulls. It was the best day I could remember in a long time, and I never wanted it to end. We were exhausted by the time we got home, but not too tired. Like teenagers, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We giggled like school kids as we slipped into the darkness of the backyard, letting Stitch relieve himself one last time.
While he was hunting for the perfect place to do his business, Liv surprised me, pressing me up against the back of the house for a deep and sensual kiss. Then she playfully tugged at my zipper and gave me the look. Could my day get any better?
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
Not that I didn’t like where this was headed, but Brighton’s pickup was in the driveway, which meant he was probably in our house somewhere, waiting for us to get home. And he was the last person I wanted to run into. I needed Olivia all to myself.
I groaned when she nipped at my lips, then dropped to her knees, freeing me from my shorts. “Liv,” I growled, even as I fingered her soft, wavy hair, which was messy from the Jeep ride.
“Shh . . . you don’t want Brighton to hear us, do you?”
It was the last thing I wanted. I closed my eyes, forgetting all about our neighbor as Liv wrapped her mouth around me, losing herself in the moment. “Jesus,” I said, pressing my hips forward. That’s when I heard a small noise and turned my head, just as Brighton rounded the corner, breathing heavy from his run. He stopped short when he realized what was going on, his jaw clenching. He didn’t back away, though, so I didn’t stop Livy from finishing.
“Fuck,” I growled. My eyes were trained on Brighton’s as I palmed Olivia’s head, using my hips to help set the steady pace I needed. When I couldn’t hold out any longer, I closed my eyes, surrendering as my body shook through its release. When I finally opened my eyes, Kerrington was nowhere to be found, making me wonder if he’d been a figment of my imagination.
Liv tucked me away and stood, kissing my lips and bringing me back to the moment. “My turn,” she said, taking my hand and leading me inside.
It no longer mattered where Kerrington was, or what he was doing. All I knew was tonight, and every other night from now on, my wife was mine. I was finally, finally getting a part of Livy back, and I’d never risk losing it again.
Chapter 24
Brighton
I COULDN’T GET the image of Olivia and Ryan out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. Now that I knew the feel of her mouth wrapped around me, it was torture thinking of her and Ryan together alone. Without me.
I wished I could rewind time to right before we were together last night, so I could slow things down and better savor every second I’d been graced with to touch Olivia. She’d held nothing back when she was with us both, and Ryan never once stopped her from giving or receiving pleasure. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, so I tried to focus on those memories instead. But my mind betrayed me, circling back to the scene I’d stumbled upon tonight.
Resigned to the truth that I’d get no sleep until I stroked one out, I hopped in the shower. I let the spray wash over me, imagining it was me Olivia had been kneeling in front of instead of Ryan. I slid my hand over myself, squeezing until I finally exorcized the frustration from my body. Still, nothing I did brought sleep after that. When I checked the time on my phone and saw that it was 1:55 a.m., I slid on my sneakers and went to the backyard. I felt compelled to see her, even if it were just for a few minutes. There was so much that was left unsaid.
Like clockwork, the sunroom door opened, but this time, it was Ryan standing there, waiting on Stitch to do his business. I slid back into the shadows, hoping he hadn’t seen me.
“I know you’re there, Kerrington,” he said. “I heard you sneak out five minutes ago.”
I stepped forward, walking over to Ryan. “Sorry, man. Just couldn’t sleep.”
“Did our peep show keep you up?” he asked, a little cocky.
“You’re a lucky man” was all I said, shrugging. I kicked at the earth, unsure of what else to say.
“I hope this doesn’t get weird between us now,” Ryan said.
“Isn’t it already?”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
I nodded. “Can I be honest about something?”
“Of course.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, worried how this was going to come out. But we had promised to be straightforward, so I knew I just needed to say it. “I don’t know how to share your wife, Ryan, and then act as if nothing ever happened. Do you have any idea how hard that is?”
Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I knew the first time I slept with Olivia that I never wanted another woman in my bed. So, I imagine you’re feeling something like that. She’s special. I get it. But you made a promise, and I expect you to keep it.”
I glared at him. “This isn’t about me wanting to be with her without you, fuckhead. As a matter of fact, it was even hotter with the three of us. It’s not something I ever thought I’d be doing with my life. But now that I have, I can’t get you both out of my head. It’s all I could think about today—which is what caused the freaking emergency earlier. I couldn’t keep my head on straight and nearly broke my foot when I dropped a farmhouse sink on it.”
“Oh, crap,” Ryan said. But I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh.
“Yeah, real funny,” I said. “I’m out seven hundred dollars, and you’re over here getting blown. I can see this was a great bargain for me.”
“Aw, come on,” Ryan said. “Lighten up. Did you at least find a replacement sink?”
“Yeah,” I said grudgingly. “I’m still pretty salty about the whole thing, though. I never even got my pancakes.”
Ryan let out a full belly laugh, then whistled for Stitch. “How about I help you install it tomorrow? Make it up to you? Liv said she needed to show you some sketches anyway.”
“Sounds good,” I said, heading back toward the mudroom door.
“Hey, Kerrington?”
“Yeah?” I said, turning at the last minute.
“I’ll make you some freaking pancakes in the morning, too.”
Chapter 25
Olivia
WHILE WE WERE at the farmer’s market, I’d found a couple of gifts for Brighton—to give the house some good mojo when he put it on the market. I didn’t know why, but I was suddenly nervous to give them to him. It was just a housewarming gift, and I did the same thing for all my clients. So why was Brighton any different?
I groaned. He was different for a million and one reasons. What had we done?
The truth was intimacy was better than ever with Ryan. And I was feeling better in some regards, even though I still had my blue days, too. But I was excited to get over to the house today because, other than in passing, it had been a few days since I’d had a chance to really talk to Brighton. Today I was helping with the lighting delivery and installation in the rooms that were ready. They were about halfway done—and it made me want to vomit thinking of Brighton no longer being next door. Or in our home, for tha
t matter. That was the problem. That’s what made him different.
It’s also what made him dangerous.
I felt like I was betraying Ryan when I found myself daydreaming about Brighton while I was sketching one afternoon. I hadn’t even realized what I was doing, but I sketched him leaning over the kitchen island in his uncle’s home, no shirt on, with sweat beading at his brow as he oiled the bamboo countertop. I’d never seen anything more beautiful. He was a mix between a superhero and a Greek god. And I suddenly had an urge to go to a toga party with him.
I was giggling, shading in his abs and finishing the sketch from my sunroom, when I heard Ryan coming in from the kitchen. I quickly shut my drawing pad.
“Whatcha working on today?” he asked.
“Nothing big really,” I said. “Brighton’s stuff.”
“Have you been enjoying getting back into the flow of things with a new job?” he asked, looking at me cautiously. “I know in the past it was a little hit or miss after taking time off.”
I couldn’t blame him. I’d spent the last few years fluctuating between being deeply depressed, mildly ambivalent, and immobile on the worst of days. Sure, we’d had a few good days in there. But the truth was, I hadn’t been willing to do the work. I hadn’t wanted to move on because I was more comfortable in my grief than trying to find a way to live without my babies. There was a quote I read once that said something like: “I will never forget the day your heart stopped and mine kept beating.”
Unless you live through something like that, you can’t know what that’s like. It’s the opposite of every maternal instinct—and there were still days when I prayed to god to let me trade places with my babies. Asking why he hadn’t given them breath, and let me go instead? There were days I gladly would’ve let myself close my eyes and slip under a heavy blanket of despair, suffocating until I joined them. But something in me fought—despite not being able to imagine going on even one more day when my heart was still beating, and theirs had stopped.
