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Even though he didn’t say her name, we knew Isaac was talking about Jillian. And once again, I couldn’t say one goddamn thing about the whole stupid situation. Especially since I’d fallen back into fucking her again.
No part of this scenario would favor me.
Not anymore.
Jillian had told me—been very clear—about the fact that she loved Stuart. And that she was marrying him.
And I’d fucked her anyway.
More than once.
I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds. Yeah, there was no way to spin this where I turned out to be the hero.
I was fucking an almost-married woman.
Christ.
Did I feel bad about it?
I did.
But I also didn’t.
At least not when I was with Jillian.
And certainly not when I was—in—Jillian.
No.
That felt like the most natural thing in the fucking world.
The rightest thing in the fucking world.
“Shit,” Beau muttered under his breath, and leaned back. “He’s coming over here.”
My eyes immediately snapped up and—yes—Stuart was definitely walking in this direction.
“Douche canoe alert,” Isaac coughed out, and the other guys laughed.
“Cash,” Stuart called out to me as he got closer. “I need a moment of your time.” He stood a few feet away and glared at me. His hands moved to his hips. “Man to man.”
Fuck.
I sighed and nodded before I stood. Stuart walked toward the front gate and I followed.
I swear I heard Isaac say, “More like Douche canoe to man—not man to man.” And the guys erupted into loud laughter.
Stuart suddenly turned around just in front of the iron gate. “Are you having an affair with my fiancée?” His hands sat back on his hips.
I shook my head and let out a deep breath. “No, of course not.” I frowned at him and tried to put on my best bullshit face.
“Seeing you two—” he raised his hand and pointed right at me, “on the couch together—”
I cut him off right there. I was already done with this conversation. “Man-to-man?” I leaned in and narrowed my gaze. “Years ago on the Single Girl show, you walked into Jillian’s cabin and saw me balls deep inside of her. Just like I was every fuckin’ night of that show.” I lowered my voice. “And I’m fairly sure you know that.”
He stepped back and the expression on his face looked as though I’d slapped him. “There’s no need to be crass,” he said in a sour, disgusted tone.
I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head. “I’m not being crass, Stuart. I’m being honest.” I took a step forward. “Just like I am now. And I’m telling you,” I held his eyes and lied, “we aren’t fucking.”
