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As if I’ve kicked him when he’s down, his gaze drops to the rug. “Fine.”

Not learning from the first time, he comes toward me again. I reflexively stiffen. “Get some rest.” He tries to kiss me, but I turn my cheek, which is where he lands. My skin is coated with his heavy breath, and then he walks to the door.

Squeezing the hem of my sweater, I don’t feel anything but repulsed by him.

“I was hoping things had changed,” he says, shooting his eyes to mine. “To be clear, I was hoping you had changed. Guess you were right. You can’t make someone love you.” Before he closes the door, he adds, “Your parents won’t be back for Christmas. They’re in Nice through the new year.” His smile is kinder in nature this time, but I still don’t trust him. “But I’m glad I won’t be celebrating alone. I even put a gift under the tree in hopes you’d be back. I’ll see you later.”

He leaves me with little more information than when I showed up at the door. This won’t be as easy as I expected.

I push off and start to snoop around the room. The first point of business is to discover who he is and why I’m marrying a man I clearly don’t love. It’s fun to solve a mystery, but not when it’s my life that’s locked in secrecy.

32

Loch

What has become of my life?

I don’t even recognize it anymore. That doesn’t upset me in the least. We haven’t even made it back to the city, and I already miss Tuesday.

The Escalade veers into the exit lane and off the highway. “Where are you going, Brady?”

“I’m hungry. Time for a pit stop.”

You have to love when the boss is told what’s happening after the decision is already made. This time, I’m good with it. I’m not one to indulge . . . at least, I wasn’t until I met Tuesday, but I could fucking devour a hoagie right now. He parks at the pump to get some gas. I detour inside the large convenience store attached to the gas station. “What can I get you?”

He pulls the gas pump from the holder. “I’ll be inside in a sec.”

I go ahead and take a piss. By the time I walk out, I find Brady eyeing the corn dogs. “Anything fresh, like a sandwich or a salad?”

Side-eyeing me, he scoffs. “You’re kidding, right?” I’m not sure what part of that seemed like a joke, but he turns to me with his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you ever let loose, Loch?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve witnessed it for the past two months.”

“Ah, the Tuesday effect. I already miss it.”

“Gee, thanks,” I reply with sarcasm embedded in it. I move a few feet, checking out the cold section of the counter display. “The Tuesday effect,” I mumble, not going near their shrimp salad sandwich. Skipping over the roast beef, I’m still bothered by what he said. He’s just gotten a corn dog when I return. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s a corn dog, boss.”

“No. What do you mean by the Tuesday effect?” I have an inkling, but I need this defined for me.

Brady chuckles, then takes a bite off the top of the dog. I admit by how he hums and the steam wafting off it that I’m tempted to try one. “It’s when . . .” He starts talking with his mouth full but then stops to finish chewing. “It’s the effect she has on you. It’s been, what?” He references his watch. “Two hours tops, and you’re already back to the stiff lawyer with no life. You’re back to pre-Tuesday.”

Fuck it. I hold my finger up when the guy looks my way. “I’ll take one.”

He reacts with another hardier chuckle as he hits my chest with the back of his hand. “I’m talking about not living, eating salads and healthy all the fucking time, not veering from your regimen.”

I’m handed the corn dog and take a bite, and it’s actually pretty damn good. “Look, I’m breaking from my regimen right now. Happy?”

“How long will you spend in the gym to work that off tonight?”

“It shouldn’t take long—fuck, I see what you did there.”

He’s almost finished his corn dog and shaking his head when I realize I walked right into his trap. “It’s not a trick, Loch. It’s living in the present, no schedule dictating your day, not being able to enjoy the simpler pleasures like a gas station corn dog or a forty-four ouncer of soda.” He starts for the back of the store.

“You understand I’m here during a workday. I canceled billable meetings to ride to Rhode Island with her, knowing I’d be working this weekend to catch up.”

“You’d be working anyway, but I’m glad you gave her the time she deserves.” Grabbing a cup, he starts filling it with ice.

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