She might not be.
There could be another plausible explanation for her being here. Maybe her husband is with her, and they’re trying to figure out why I’m casually blowing up my family’s life.
I roll my eyes at the thought. Caroline has never cared about anyone but herself, and that’s not changing tonight.
“Okay,” Grafton is saying, and I let out a shaky breath. It feels like, in the short time we’ve gotten to know each other, I already know him better than Christopher. And Iknowhe’s fighting against every natural instinct he has, insisting that he ride in to my rescue.
The fact that he’s respecting my decision, trusting me to handle this myself? It warms me in a way nothing else can.
“Call me back, okay, Lynne? As soon as you get clear, you call me, or Iwillhunt you down.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, a smile tugging at mycheeks.How long has it been since I was a priority to anyone like this?I don’t doubt for a second that Grafton means what he says, a bone-deep certainty warning me that if I wanted to shake this man off, it wouldn’t be an easy feat.
“Lynne,” he growls, a low rumble filled with annoyance. A dewy heat curls through my stomach and creeps downward, and I press my thighs together, grateful he can’t see my flushed cheeks. “You will call me. Clear?”
I’ve never gotten off on being bossed around, but I don’t think I mind Grafton telling me what to do. An image of him sitting behind his desk hits me, crooking his finger at me, a wicked smirk curling his mouth.Come here, Lynley.
It’s so vivid that it feels real, rather than some part of my overactive imagination, and a rush of heat runs through me. I blink rapidly, jerking upright and staring blindly through the windshield.
“Lynne?” There’s a thread of amusement now, like he knows what’s going through my mind, and my skin heats. But he couldn’t. Hecan’t.
“Clear,” I whisper.
“Good.” His voice warms with approval, and pleasure trickles down my spine. “Now, game face on. Don’t let either of those assholes get to you.”
There’s something about his lack of questions that steals my breath. In our conversations so far, my sister isn’t someone who has ever come up. And yet, in the space of just a couple of minutes, he’s read the situation just by listening to me.Trustingme.
It’s been so long since anyone has unequivocally been on my side. Christopher is always thinking about work and his image, or howhisfamily would feel about things. My mother always worries about Caroline and the effect on her. Caroline just thinks about herself. It’s not until thismoment that it really hits me how alone—howisolated—I am, and tears sting my eyes.
“Grafton?” It’s a broken whisper, and he lets out a rough breath. “Thank you.”
Again, he seems to understand more than I’m saying, and I squeeze my eyes shut as he murmurs, “You’re not alone anymore.”
I’m not sure how to respond, or if there’s even anything I can say, so instead, “I’ll call you,” falls out of my mouth.
He chuckles. “You do that, baby.” There’s a click, telling me he’s ended the call. I don’t drop the phone straight away, that “baby” reverberating through my head.
I lower my arm slowly, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest. I shake it off, a renewed confidence filling me as I finally leave the car. I keep my phone in my hand, setting a video up to record, and head toward the house. I don’t go for the front door, wanting to hold onto the element of surprise for as long as possible. Instead, I head around the house and through the garden gate, knowing the back door will be unlocked, Christopher too arrogant to believe anyone would ever dare break in.
I guess he never thought it would be me, though.
It leads into a mudroom off the kitchen, which is dark and empty as I walk in. The only light comes from the glow of the moon through the window, but it’s enough for me to see the empty wine glasses sitting on the counter.
Two of them.
I can read a lot about the situation with those glasses alone. The first is that Caroline isn’t here with her husband. The second is that this encounter, whatever it is, is more casual and relaxed than she and Christopher have a right to be together—especially while I’ve been at my mother’s,trying to piece myself together as everything is crumbling around me.
The betrayal keeps building in my mind. Even if they aren’t fucking, my sister shouldn’t be choosing my husband over me.And yet, she clearly is.
For the briefest second, Grafton flashes through my mind, followed by a wave of guilt, but I sternly remind myself that I have nothing to feel guilty for.
There’s something there—a spark, an attraction—that I would never act on while I’m still married. And the truth is, Grafton has been here for me in the last couple of weeks more than Christopher has been in years.
I step into the dining room just as a voice, familiar andshrill, breaks the silence of the house. It’s coming from the living room, and I edge in that direction, my footsteps muffled in the thick carpet, until I can make out the words of my sister.
“You can’t let this happen, Christopher! I will not let you throw awaymylife because you were stupid enough to get caught.”
***
