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Thunder rolls across the sky as I hit the speed limit.
I’ve no idea which hotel she’s going to be at, but I’m going to find her. Because I’m fucking pissed.
Sarah and I are going to have words.
Then I’m stripping her down and fucking her into submission, until all she ever wants and needs is me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sarah
It’s starting to rain when I get back to my hotel and slip into the restaurant there for a quick bite.
I’ve been shopping all day in a way that might, to some, seem like running away. And every now and then, I caught myself as I fingered a soft cotton men’s shirt or a tie. Or wondered if the dress I tried on would be something he liked. Or the lingerie I saw.
That’s the thing, Leland’s so far in my head, I’m not sure what to do.
Every move I made, he shadowed me, and I looked at things differently.
Shopping therapy is something I’ve done only occasionally, and I thought . . .
Thought this would be the answer.
Instead, all it did was make me think of him.
And the deep rust colored lace balconette bra and matching panties I bought? Along with the stockings and garter belt?
A world away from the functional bras and panties I wear.
These things in the glossy box buried at the bottom of one of my bags are pure sex and sensuality. They’ll look good, and I’ll feel like a million bucks in them. But I didn’t buy them just to wear. Things like that are meant to be seen and . . .
My stomach twists as I pick up the menu, not interested in anything on there, not with my nerves in knots.
I bought them for a man to look at and lust after me in them. I bought them to be touched, to be ripped off me so I can get fucked.
I bought the lingerie for Leland.
A man who was all over Willa.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The waiter comes over and asks what I want.
Even though I’m not hungry, I order the Caesar salad and a glass of white wine.
This is meant to be me forgetting him, moving on. Scrubbing the night before from my memory.
I should have known it wouldn’t work.
It didn’t four years ago, so why would it now?
When the salad and the wine arrive, I sip the booze and pick at the salad. At least, I guess, the shopping therapy had some good aspects. I got a bunch of dresses, new jeans, and T-shirts.
We’re keeping it smart casual at the lodge to fit in with the homey vibe. And the dresses are great, but I do love the two I bought for the wedding. I’m going to let Dakota pick which one she likes.
My chest contracts as images of Leland and Willa pop into my head. His hands on her hips. Her straddling his thighs.
I close my eyes and then take a sip of my wine.
