Page 43 of This Could Be Us
“I’m glad.”
I can’t force myself to look away, and I don’t think he’s even trying. There’s a filament connecting us. It burns hot and bright and is impossible to ignore, but also impossible to pursue. We both know it.
“I better go,” he says after a moment of charged silence. “I need to pick up Aaron and Adam from my ex’s.”
“Of course.” I move with him toward the door.
“Could you bring the drive to the office tomorrow?” he asks from the front porch. “I knew you would want terms in writing. An agreement has been drawn up. You come in tomorrow and sign, then hand the drive over to us, and we’ll share it with the FBI.”
“And you’ll have more than enough evidence to prosecute my husband.” A brief prickle of guilt disrupts my relief. “He’ll never forgive me.”
“He should be the one begging for your forgiveness,” he says, his words as harsh as the scowl on his face. “And he left you no choice.”
“I agree, but it feels very cut-and-dried until you have to explain to your children that their father is in prison because of you.”
“He’s in prison because of himself. Not you. They’ll understand.”
“I think you’re right for the most part,” I say, “but one of my daughters, the middle one, is a real daddy’s girl. Edward can do no wrong in her eyes.”
Judah clasps my chin between gentle fingers, tipping my head back so I have to look at him. “Edward did a lot wrong, and once she sees that, it’ll work out.”
My breath hitches and my heart sprints at his touch, at the light caress on my cheek before he releases me. I resist the urge to put my hand there to relive that gentle touch.
“Are you always so sure?” I ask, half laughing, half really wanting to know. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so certain.”
“There’s one thing I’m not sure what to do about,” he says, his gaze intense and unwavering on my face.
Somehow I know he means me. Or this thing that’s been tugging me toward him since the second we met. And I’m not sure if thereisanything to do about it. I need to focus on rebuilding a life for me and my girls from the ground up. I also need to rebuildme. A me who doesn’t need a man, stands on her own, and gets what she needs to survive, even if she has to make it herself.
“I better go,” he says again. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, yeah.” I stand at the open door and watch him walk the driveway to his car, a black Audi Q8. Even after he pulls away, I can’t seem to drag myself from this spot.
“Um, at what point were you planning to mention the accountant is bae?” Hendrix asks behind me.
I smile, close the door, and turn to face my friends.
“You mean Judah?” I ask innocently.
“You mean Judah?” Yasmen imitates my lighter voice. “That man smolders. He fine as hell.”
“Do I need to remind you that you’re a married woman, Yas?” I laugh.
“Definitely not.” She smiles dreamily. “Josiah is it for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate when a man likethatenters the chat.”
“And he was eating you up with his eyes,” Hendrix says. “I never knew that was a real thing, but he needed a bib to look at you the way he did. Invisible drool everywhere.”
“That makes no sense,” I giggle. “I admit there’s an attraction, but the last thing I need to be thinking about right now is a man.”
“Since you don’t want him,” Hendrix says with a smirk, “tell him I like long walks on the beach and my safe word isPopeyes.”
Who said I don’t want him?
I shut that voice down because what kind of woman thinks about a man romantically in the middle of a DEFCON crisis? When she’s still married to a lying, cheating scumbag of a criminal?
A woman who hasn’t been touched with any real passion in months. Years? How long has it been since things felt right between Edward and me? Now I just want him out of my life, which leaves a void I probably shouldn’t fill with another man right away. I have other things to focus on.
I let my gaze wander the high ceilings and hardwood floors of my foyer, of the house that is my little castle in the world. CalPot may not be taking it, but if I don’t find a way to pay my mortgage, the bank will. Realistically, how long will my savings carry us? Maybe I shouldbe frightened that for the first time everything will fall on me, but the prospect exhilarates me. My whole life is now DIY… or rather DIM. Do itmyselfbecause there’s no one else who will.