Good, she was back to playful mode. He kissed her, lingering and slow, until he felt the muscles unclench in her back and she leaned into him, soft and wanting, and gave him a regretful look when he pulled away.

“There’s more, I’m afraid. I used the monthly deposit into Dashiell’s bank account to buy the wine. I hope you’re not angry.”

“That you’re drinking away your son’s future? That the poor child will have nothing left to live on when we pass, much less go to college? You’re forgiven.” She took another sip, comically smacked her lips. “Actually, I heartily approve of your fiscal irresponsibility.”

Goodness, she was in a good mood.

“I think you have another secret,” she said. “You can tell me. I swear I won’t be upset. I think it’s high time you told me anyway, don’t you? I mean, I already know.”

Could she possibly be serious? “About Dashiell?”

“You have a secret about Dashiell? Let me guess. You’re not his real father. No, that’s not it. I’m not his real mother.” Her eyes began to dance, and she stepped back, a wide smile on her face. “No, silly. I heard you typing. You’ve started a new book, haven’t you?” She snapped his leg with the dish towel. “That’s why you bought the fabulous wine. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me. What’s it about? Please tell me.”

Ethan turned away, busied himself with the wine. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Lie. Lie, right the fuck now.

But Sutton had already caught on. So perceptive, his wife.

“You haven’t started a book.”

“No.”

“Then what did you mean earlier? You have a secret about Dashiell? Did you drop him or something?” She sighed, huge and gusty, the wine sweet on her breath. “I’ve told you a thousand times, you need to pick him up with both hands, not try to hoist him out of the crib like a football—”

“Darling, please. Stop. I didn’t drop the boy. He’s fine. Let it go, okay? Let’s just drink the wine and have dinner.”

But that wasn’t going to happen; he could see the anger simmering in her eyes. It all turned on a dime with them. It always did.

“Tell me what you’ve done to him.”

He didn’t answer. She gave dinner a stir.

“I’ll give you one more chance. Talk.”

Oh, he was so royally, completely screwed. But the weight of it was dragging him down. It was time to be out with it. She’d hate him, but she’d forgive him, eventually.

“It’s a funny thing, actually. When we’re old, you’ll look back on this moment and laugh and laugh.”

Silence.

He took a sip for courage. “Before you got pregnant, I switched your birth control pills out with sugar pills.”