“It’s fine,” I tell her when we reach the door. “Lynley’s got…an appointment.” Mom makes a small noise, but before she can dig any further, I press a kiss to her cheek and make a quick exit. “I’ll call you.”
“Tell the kids to FaceCall me!”
As I ease the car out of the circular drive, regret coils in my gut. I shouldn’t have stopped by. I’m not even sure what I was hoping to get from her—maybe validation that Lynley is overreacting. Reassurance that I haven’t done anything wrong. Instead, my mother has got the scent of smoke, and the last thing I need is her digging into my personal business.
None of this would be a problem if Lynley had just kept her goddamn head down. She’s being too sensitive, blowing things out of proportion, and I’m not going to let her throw our life away because her feelings have been hurt.
She should be grateful for everything I’ve done for her. I work my ass off to pay for this life, to give her the freedom to stay home with the kids. I don’t drag the stress of the office through our front door, even if she doesn’t like the way I deal with it.
That should count for something.
It’s illogical, but there’s a tiny thread of hope that I’ll pull up to our house, and she’ll be there, a welcoming smile on her lips, and everything back the way it was. The thread is small enough that the disappointment barely touches me when I walk into the cavernous house, the silence echoing loudly in my ears.
I head for my office, determined to find a new job before my termination becomes public fodder. If I can find another job first, I can swing the narrative in my favor. But I pause when there’s a quiet knock at the door. I’m not expecting anyone, and I already know it’s not Lynley—she’s not coming home. Not today. I won’t kid myself about that.
I backtrack, expecting to find FedEx or someone delivering something, but I’m surprised when Angelica gifts me a perky smile from the front stoop.
“Chrissy!” she cries, throwing herself into my arms and peppering kisses all over my face. I grab a hold of her arms and forcefully push her back, taking a step away from her clinging grip.
“What the fuck?” I gasp in surprise, and she takes the opportunity to lunge forward again, planting her mouth against mine and thrusting her tongue into my mouth. It’s sloppy and wet—not in a good way—and her teeth clash against mine. I rip myself away, putting several feet between us, with my hands up to ward her off.
“Angelica,” I grit out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She steps into the house like she belongs here. “I’ve missed you so much,” she simpers, cocking a hip out and drawing my attention down. She’s wearing a plaid skirt that’s basically a strip of material and a crop top that’s most definitely a size too small, her peaked nipples beading against the pink fabric. No bra. “Haven’t you missed me?”
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to rein in my anger. “How do you know where I live?”
She tilts her head, dark hair falling over her shoulder. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. Just some light flirting with Gary from HR.” She pouts. “I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t think it was cheating when there was no actual nudity involved.” She giggles, twisting her hair around her finger.
My eyebrows climb my forehead. “Cheating? What the fuck are you talking about?”
She doesn’t answer, taking a few steps around the foyer, her wide eyes taking in the house. “Wow, this is great. It’s so nice that your wife realized that she needs to move out soquickly.I’m so looking forward to adding my own touch to this place.”
She’s lost her fucking mind.I gape at her as she frowns at a painted landscape that Lynley hung on the foyer wall.
“Waterfall,” she murmurs. “Pretty.”
“Angelica,” I snap loudly, and she startles, whirling around to face me with wounded eyes. I try to soften my tone, saying through gritted teeth, “Why are you at my house right now? I live here with my family.”
The injured expression fades into something furious, her eyes flashing viciously. “I’m talking,” she says sharply, “about us being together, out in the open. No more supply closets or offices, buttogether. I’m here so we can start our life together. You, me, and”—she presses a hand to her midsection—“our baby.”
Nausea cramps my stomach, the world going out of focus. My eyes flick back up to her face, watching her lips curl smugly, and then a bark of harsh laughter escapes me. “Holy shit. You almost fucking had me.” I bend over, resting my palms on my knees, sucking in a lungful of air. “Oh, god. That’s not funny, Angelica. Christ.”
Her eyes bulge at the unexpected reaction, right before stomping her tiny heel against the floor. “I’m not joking!” she whines, the sound grating. “I’m pregnant with your baby.”
Her face sets in something mutinous as I straighten, pinning her with a dark glare. “Okay, sure.” I flick up a finger. “You’re pregnant, and I didn’t actually get a vasectomy five years ago.”
She goespale. “That’s not… No?—”
“I shoot blanks, Angelica. So what the fuck are you playing at?”
“There’s no way,” she hisses, her expression firming into something terrifying, and a cold sweat trickles down my back. “This is your baby, and you need to take responsibility for it.”
Chapter 18
Grafton
It’s not hard to pick out Mase, even with a batting helmet covering his dark hair. Not because he looks like his father—although there are definite hints of Christopher hiding in the line of Mase’s jaw, the slope of his nose—but because when he turns to smile at one of his teammates…
