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I bring the flute to my lips and mindlessly swipe through emails, making sure to keep focused on my phone. I feel the heat of Connie’s irritated stare and internally prepare.

She doesn’t disappoint, talking loudly to Blaire about Maya and Cole’s summer plans, their accomplishments, and taking every chance to brag about what wonderful children she and Pierce are raising. She drops his name so many times, I lose count, and it’s everything I can do to keep my face expressionless as I read today’s stock reports.

“Maya and Pierce decided….”

“Pierce and Cole built…”

“Our last family dinner…”

“The baseball banquet where Pierce…”

The tautness in my shoulder blades spreads high, taking over the tendons in my neck, and pretty soon, the vein in my forehead ticks. All the time, I keep my attention to my phone, throwing in a few exasperated sighs and ignoring her as if she isn’t there. Blaire doesn’t say much either.

My non-reaction pisses her off, and she moves onto more personal subjects.

“Our office has decided to do a health initiative, and I’m spearheading a group program. My first move is to eliminate all chocolate and sweets within the office. Then I’ll petition the building manager. All that sugar, fat, and calories are gross. Even Pierce thinks so; he hates chocolate.”

Not anymore, bitch. I think to myself, knowing he’s a big fan of chocolate these days. This is a direct dig at me, and she’s itching for a response.

I keep my mouth shut and swallow the cry of relief when the technician starts to paint my toenails. A few more minutes, and I’ll be out of this chair and away from hell. My technician inspects the bottle I handed her earlier and curls a finger at me to bend closer.

“This is beautiful,” she comments quietly.

“Thanks, it’s one of a kind. It was made especially for me by a cosmetology company in Paris.”

I don’t have to look at her to feel the daggers piercing into my flesh when I sit back, dropping my earbuds in my purse. Connie takes this opportunity to ramble on more, and I restart the massage chair, hoping it will drown her out. No such luck.

I try another tactic, forcing my thoughts to the explosive night Pierce came to the shed. The way he kissed me, held me close, dominated my body in proof that it belonged to him. The words he whispered, the loving way he looked while moving inside me, all of it combined with the knowledge he never gave that to anyone else. Connie will never know what it’s like to have Pierce’s strong hands roaming over her in worship. She’ll never feel the soft touch of his lips or the warmth of his embrace after him fucking her senseless.

I’m jarred out of my thoughts. A tingling sensation travels over my skin from head to toe, and my stomach dips low, curling and turning in a way that sends my heart racing. Call it subconscious spirit, or ESP, whatever it is; my mind is aware and alert, telling me to be ready. I’m so lost in the stir happening inside that I barely hear the ringing of the bell. But I can’t miss the quiet hush that falls over the spa. The air leaves my lungs when I spot Pierce sauntering my way.

His bright blue eyes are locked on mine, filled with intent and purpose. He’s wearing his jeans, Kendrick Construction shirt, work boots, and has his hat backward with his glasses perched on top.

God, a woman could fall in love with him based on his hotness alone.

My brain finally takes over, firing on all cylinders, and it hits me what’s happening.

Connie…

Pierce…

Me…

The anger, the heartbreak, the jealousy, the betrayal, and the three of us all together with an audience. I may not know all the women in here, but the silence and gawking tell me they know Pierce.

He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, doesn’t break his stride, and doesn’t take his eyes off me. There’s confidence in his steps, and I know he’s made a decision that’s about to change both our lives. I swear sparks are crackling in the air the closer he gets.

He sidesteps Connie’s chair without even a glance, wraps his hand around my neck, dips down, and crashes his mouth to mine. My body reacts on its own, pressing up into him and giving in to the kiss. His tongue strokes around mine, teasingly, then dives deeper as he slants my head for full access. It doesn’t take long for my blood to race through my veins, the heat spreading through my body. This isn’t a quick, happy-to-see-you kiss. It’s much more. This is the kind of kiss a man gives a woman when he’s making a statement.

That’s what Pierce is doing. He’s making a statement to me and to anyone watching.

I never saw myself as the kind of woman that would openly make out in public, but down in my soul, I need this.

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