He grabbed my hips, setting the pace. This wasn’t the gentle lovemaking I’d experienced with him all weekend. It wasn’t me who had control this time either. This was fast, hard, and intense. He licked at my neck, sucked my breasts, and drove into me like a man possessed. I felt claimed. Sexy. Powerful.
The water rose and fell with us, long waves of desire as Jordan grunted and moved. It splashed over the edge of the tub, hitting the floor in loud droplets. Jordan’s grip tightened, and he tugged me close, his face falling in my neck. “Now, Sandy. Please come with me.”
I was so close, my body strung tight with desire. Jordan slipped his hand between us, touching me where I needed it, and I cried out, locking down as he joined me, his guttural moan echoing in the room. His movements quickened, and then he shouted my name.
We stilled, my head falling to his shoulder as he gathered me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead. After a few moments, I unlocked my legs and slid back. We regarded each other with lazy smiles on our faces, both too exhausted and too sated to talk much.
Finally, I peeked over the edge of the tub.
“Good thing we have lots of towels.”
Jordan handed me the glass of wine, his expression one of fond amusement. “Good thing we didn’t knock this over.”
I sipped the cool liquid, enjoying the bite of the pinot.
Jordan rubbed my legs. “You all right?”
I winked at him. “Not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, but I’m fine.”
“I was a little rough. I got carried away,” he admitted.
“I liked it.” I enjoyed being able to take control when I wanted or to release it to him. Either way, our lovemaking was spectacular. Together, we somehow meshed, sharing a passion that flamed hot and bright when we were alone.
He sighed and moved back, leaning on the other end of the tub. Our legs pressed together, his toes idly stroking my skin. He rested his arms on the edge of the tub, the water clinging to his skin.
“At my age, that doesn’t happen very often.”
I lifted one shoulder. “Then I’m glad I was here when it did.”
He bent at the waist, his expression serious. “It will only be you when it happens next time, Sandy.” He relaxed back, picking up my foot and massaging the instep. I groaned as his fingers worked, easing the tightness of the arch. He was right when he told me he gave great massages. I could get used to it very easily.
“And the time after,” he added with a wink.
I smiled, wiggling my toes. “You’re saying, fast or slow, I’m stuck with you?”
He squeezed my foot. “Yes.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
Sandy
It started on the plane ride home. That niggling little voice I couldn’t quite hear, whispering in my head. I had the feeling I had forgotten something—something important. Mentally, I went through the hotel suite. I had my clothes, my Kindle, and was certain I had remembered to pack all the souvenirs and mementos we had purchased, including a gorgeous shawl Jordan had insisted on buying for me at the gift shop at MFA. It was the softest cashmere, in the most vivid shades of blue and green I had ever seen. Light and warm, it was still in its wrappings, but it was the first thing I had put into my case.
I racked my brain, then decided if it was that important, I would have Jordan contact the hotel to send on to me. Otherwise, I would replace it.
Still, that nagging feeling wouldn’t leave. Jordan slept on the short flight, but I was unable to settle. I checked my messages and email, somehow not shocked that my work profile showed nothing pending. Emmy was efficient and no doubt kept up with everything Bentley needed. Knowing him, he put aside some things for me to deal with so she wouldn’t be overloaded. I had a feeling the two of them would have spent a great deal of time together in the day care. They were enraptured with their daughter, and Bentley was especially besotted. It was lovely to see how much he had changed. Emmy was good for him.
It was wonderful to know all my boys were settling down, finding the right person to share their lives with. I wondered how many BAM babies would appear over the next few years—I was looking forward to being part of their futures.
Max and I never had children. He’d had a vasectomy before he met me, and although he attempted to have it reversed, it didn’t work. We were refused adoption because of Max’s age, and the one attempt we made to adopt privately ended in disaster and disappointment, and I swore I wouldn’t go through that again.
Meeting Bentley and the boys had given me the ability to love and care for someone other than Max. They eased the heartache of never being a mother—especially when Reid came along. His history and pain provoked a deep maternal response in me, and I adored him.
They all treated me as their adoptive mother since none of them had a motherly influence in their lives. And our grandson, Colin, held a very special place in my heart. I had held him as a baby, watched him grow, and loved him as fiercely as a mother would.
All my boys made the small part of my heart that ached for a child a little less painful. They filled a void not even Max could touch.
I shook my head at my thoughts. I rubbed my temples as the odd sensation of something forgotten, something lost, ran down my spine.
“Are you all right, my darling?” Jordan’s voice broke through my odd musings.
I startled at his voice but forced a smile to my face. “Yes, of course.”
“You’ve gone pale. Are you feeling ill?”
“No. You checked the hotel suite before we left, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Why? Do you think you forgot something?”
“I have an odd feeling I did.”
“I can ask the hotel to check if it’s important.”
I waved it off. “It’s probably my toothbrush. I think I can get by.”
He lifted my hand to kiss it, but for some odd reason, I resisted. He frowned but patted my hand instead, leaving his warm palm to rest on top of my hand. “We’ll figure it out.”
I nodded in silence and turned to the window, fighting the impulse not to pull my hand away.
What on earth was going on with me?
With a sigh, I shut my eyes. I must be tired from the weekend.
That had to be it.
* * *
Jordan carried my bag up the steps, waiting as I unlocked the porch door, then the inner door. He followed me in, setting down my bag.
I dropped my keys in the bowl, suddenly tense and unsure. I had no idea what to say to him.
He studied me for a moment. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You seem…distracted. Or upset.”
I sighed. “A bit tired.” I lifted one shoulder, unsure how to explain the unease I was feeling. “Maybe a little sad the weekend is done. Back to reality now,” I added lightly.
He stepped closer, sliding an arm around my waist. Before I could protest, he drew me close, enveloping me in his warmth. The clean scent of him filled my nose, and with a long breath, I relaxed into him, wondering why I had resisted his comfort earlier.
“I think reality is a little different for each of us now,” he murmured. “At least, I hope you know that.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “Get some rest and I’ll call you later.”
I nodded. He eased back, looking down at me. He bent and brushed a kiss to my cheek. “Call me if you need anything, all right?”
“I will.”
He paused before he walked out the door.
“I’m not sure how I’ll sleep without you beside me tonight, Sandy.” He shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
He walked out, pulling the door tight behind him.
I stared after his retreating figure, the unease back. My stomach tightened, and my body became tense.
That odd sensation crept over me, causing a shiver to run down my spine.
Somehow, without Jordan beside me, I felt nervous, worried, and unsure.
I picked up m
y bag, mentally giving myself a good shake.
“Stop it, Sandy. You’re just tired.”
That mantra repeated itself in my head for the next few hours.
* * *
I was restless the remainder of the day. I unpacked, checking everything, reassuring myself I hadn’t forgotten anything of importance, yet the feeling lingered. For some reason, I carried all the things we had bought, including the lovely shawl, into the room I used as an office. It had always been my space, decorated with a feminine touch. Max rarely came in except to ask a question or, in our earlier years, to bring me a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. It had simply been a place I could go to on my own. I wasn’t sure why I brought the bags in here, but I felt better once I had.
I did a few chores, made some toast I nibbled on, then paced the house in an endless loop. I couldn’t settle, no matter how I tried. My book held no interest for me, there was nothing on TV, and the music I had playing bothered more than soothed, so I shut it off.
Jordan called in the early evening, his voice a welcome distraction.
“How are you?”
“Fine,” I assured him. “Just having a quiet evening.”
There was a pause, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to tell him I missed him. I wanted to, but somehow, the words stuck in my throat.
“Any news from the real estate agent?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, she dropped by after I got home. The open house was a huge success, and she expects a lot of offers tomorrow.”
“That is good news.”
“Well, it will be interesting, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Gina called as well. She wants to come in a few weeks to go through the boxes at the warehouse. She’s trying to coordinate her trip with Warren’s, so they come at the same time.” He paused. “I think they want to spare me going through things twice.”
“That is thoughtful.”
“Yes. I was thinking, perhaps we could all have dinner one night.”
His words hung in the air. He wanted to introduce me to his children—officially. I had met them at the office on different occasions, but under vastly diverse circumstances. As a married coworker, not the woman he was having an affair with.
Internally, I shook my head. I was more than that to Jordan. I knew that without a doubt—why had those words gone through my head? We weren’t having an affair. We were in a relationship.
“Sandy?” Jordan’s worried voice prompted me.
“Sorry,” I laughed, trying not to convey my sudden discomfort. “I was daydreaming.”
“So, dinner?”
“Yes, we’ll have to arrange that.”
“Sandy, my darling, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Then why am I sensing a huge distance from you?”
“I’m simply tired, Jordan. We had a busy weekend, and I’m exhausted.”
“It was a wonderful weekend, I thought.”
“Yes,” I agreed, although my tone was odd. “Wonderful.”
“Sandy—”
I cut him off, not liking the solicitous tone in his voice or the edge of hurt it contained. I hated knowing it was me who put that hurt there.
“Jordan, I have to go. My tub will be overflowing. I’ll see you at the office.”
Before he could reply, I hung up.
I stared at the phone, fighting with myself. I wanted to pick it up and call him back. Tell him about the odd feeling I couldn’t shake. Ask him to come get me. He would sit with me and talk it through—help me make sense of the unease and worry I was feeling.
Twice, I picked up the phone, then set it back in the charger.
How could I explain it to Jordan, when I didn’t understand it myself?
I ran a hand over my hair and stood. Maybe a bath was a good idea. Then I would head to bed and get a good night’s sleep. Things would look better in the morning.
* * *
I tossed and turned, my sleep fractured and filled with dark, twisted dreams. My bedroom felt oppressive and hot. I flung off the covers and switched on the light, glancing at the clock. It was just after three. I should be asleep, but I felt twitchy and anxious.
I got up and pulled on my robe. I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of ice water, needing to feel the cold. I sipped it, wandering around the house, switching on lights as I did. For some reason, I ended up in Max’s office. I rarely went in there, and I stood in the doorway, recalling all the times I had done the same thing—leaning on the doorframe, telling Max to come for dinner, or to leave his book and join me in the garden. Scold him for working too much.
With a sigh, I went in, sitting in the wingback chair across from his desk. It was where I had always sat when I came in to see him. He would look up from whatever he was working on, his eyes twinkling, his gaze welcoming. His desk would be covered in reference books, files, papers, and notes. Often, his laptop sat on a precarious pile of papers, listing to one side, always in danger of ending up on the floor.
“Hello, my girl,” was his standard greeting.
Now, his desk was empty. His laptop shut and set to the side. There were no papers or files—I had spent days sorting and organizing them, sliding them into neat piles and storing them in file boxes. Colin had them since he was fascinated with Max’s work, his thoughts on the medical system, and his wealth of knowledge.
I glanced around the room, wondering what had called me here in the middle of the night. I hadn’t moved or changed much about this room. It had always been Max’s haven, the same way my office had been my own personal space. It was the place we could simply be ourselves and enjoy our own endeavors without the other person.
I drew my knees up to my chest, feeling a wave of emotion. Max was always careful never to stop me from pursuing my own interests. He supported me in everything I chose to do—from working for Bentley, doing some traveling on my own, even the odd hobby I would pick up then discard. He always was there, encouraging and supporting me. Max had been an amazing husband.
A shiver of foreboding went through me. I stared at his desk as three words exploded in my head so clearly, it was as if they were shouted out loud in the room.
You forgot me.
I blinked at the sudden rush of tears, suddenly knowing the reason for my unease and my worry. For the first time since Max died, he hadn’t been on my mind. Instead, Jordan had filled my thoughts and overtaken my feelings all weekend—even longer. The only time I’d thought of Max had been in comparison—the things Jordan did that Max hadn’t.
How Jordan loved to travel. Enjoyed being on the water. The way he hummed and soothed me in the storm. The passion he had reawakened in me.
Not once during the weekend had I thought of Max or our life together. I allowed Jordan to fill up that place of loneliness and replace it with laughter and joy.
I covered my mouth with my hand as a sob escaped me.
I had compared the two men and found my husband lacking.
How could I have forgotten Max so easily? What kind of wife was I to have moved on so fast?
What had I done?
Betrayed Max. Betrayed our marriage. Had sex with another man. Spent the weekend with him and pushed aside all thoughts of the man I had spent over thirty years with.
A man who was loving, kind, and wonderful. Who gave me a life filled with happiness.
Who deserved to be remembered, not cast aside and forgotten.
It was too soon. I wasn’t ready.
And I had to put a stop to this.
* * *
Jordan
I sensed Sandy’s withdrawal from me on the flight home. The way she held herself back, the subtle shift when I tried to touch her. As if she no longer wanted to feel my hand on her skin.
She was quiet in the car—tense and anxious. She allowed my embrace before I left, melting into me as if she needed it, and for a moment, I dismissed my notion of worry. She admitted
she was tired, so I accepted it. Her pallor could be explained away with fatigue as well, so I convinced myself that was the cause.
But her odd reactions on the phone worried me. The gap I felt between us which had never been there before—even prior to our budding relationship. There had always been an ease between us, but our conversation was stilted and awkward.
I didn’t sleep well and went to the office with a heavy heart. Bentley had delayed the usual staff meeting until we returned today. I approached the boardroom apprehensively, unsure as to what I would find. How would Sandy act this morning?
She was in her usual place, already writing in her notebook, Bentley in position at the head of the table. He spoke quickly, and she nodded, keeping up with him as he filled her in on what he required.
He lifted his head as I went by. “Jordan, good morning.”
I tilted my chin in acknowledgment. “Bentley.” I paused. “Sandy.”
She glanced up with a smile. It was her cool, professional one, which I expected, but my chest ached at the signs of a sleepless night. She was paler than yesterday, weariness etched under her eyes.
I sat down, hoping she would look at me, but she kept her eyes focused on the pad in front of her, her hand moving rapidly as Bentley began the meeting. She was still sitting when we filed out.
It bothered me that she never once looked at me, and that even when she spoke, it seemed to me her voice was distant and removed. None of the warmth I associated with Sandy was present.
Twice, I went past her desk, but she wasn’t there. I called to ask her about lunch, relaxing a little when she answered, breathless.
“Jordan, I’m sorry. I was in Bentley’s office. He is crazy today.”
I chuckled. “He must have missed you.”
“If the pile of to-do’s on my desk is any indication, then yes.”
She was swamped, which wasn’t a surprise. Bentley relied heavily on her. I was reading too much into this.
Vested Interest Box Set Books 4-7 Page 85
