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* * *

It was one thing to know what was best. And another entirely not to want what wasn’t. When she’d had sex with Tad, she’d been in that one moment. With a need so intense it had to be assuaged.

She would never have believed that when it was done, she’d need him even more. That wasn’t generally how life worked. You built up to an event like that, had all these expectations, and even if it lived up to your expectations, when it was over, some of that anticipation was gone.

Nothing was as good as the first time, right?

That was what she told herself for days after spending all night in Tad’s arms. She couldn’t get into bed without smelling the clean, sexy scent of his body—although she’d washed her sheets Sunday after he’d gone.

It was what she was telling herself Thursday when she left the clinic at noon. It was her half day because she had to work Saturday morning, and she had errands to run. Things she liked to do while her son was still in school and she didn’t have to make him tag along.

Like checking out clothes. Buying new underwear. Stopping at a jewelry counter just to look. Girlie stuff that bored Ethan to tears.

Sometimes she did the grocery shopping so he wasn’t constantly bugging her to buy junk food that wasn’t good for him.

The current bottle of disinfectant was almost empty, which meant she’d be opening the spare that weekend. She didn’t like to be without a spare.

She thought about getting her hair trimmed. Her usual place took walk-ins. Or maybe she’d see if she could get in for a massage. Or a pedicure.

With her current salary she could afford either. Or both.

They weren’t things she normally considered. She didn’t need them. And the more money she could stash away, the more secure she and Ethan would be. No matter what happened...

She hadn’t even reached her car yet when she had her phone to her ear.

“You feel like lunch?” she asked as soon as the call was answered. Before she could talk herself out of it.

“Of course. When? Where?” His deep voice made her feel like liquid gold.

“My house.”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

“I can’t believe it was even better than last time.” Miranda let the words fall out as she lay, replete, in Tad’s arms an hour and a half later. They’d been very careful about condom use, and then, when things had started up again, she’d used her hands to please him.

Her face on his chest moved with his chuckle. She ran her fingers through the hair close to her cheek.

So this was what got people to do crazy things to be together.

But she couldn’t be like them.

Couldn’t be crazy. Not completely.

“It’s only for a little while,” she told him, loving his leg between her thighs. She’d straddled him, was holding him down—sort of. He could move anytime he wanted to. He didn’t.

“I know.” He was playing with a strand of her hair.

“No touching around Ethan,” she reiterated. “We aren’t a family and can’t give him the idea we might be. It’s not fair to him.”

“I know.” He didn’t sound any happier about that than she did. But he wasn’t arguing, either. Had she wished he would?

She’d have had to say no if he’d offered any chance at anything more permanent. She had secrets she could never share. But he didn’t realize that.

He had a job to get back to.

And a house.

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