“Hey there, Jewelann,” Christian says from his place at the table. “Good to see you again.”

CHAPTER
10

CHRISTIAN MOVES IN for a hug. I back away a few quick steps but then force myself to submit to the embrace, too aware that my husband is watching the exchange with interest. Ken does not know about me and Christian in high school.

But does he know about last Saturday night?

The warmth of Christian’s lips on my cheek sends a perverse thrill up and down my spine. Not arousal, not quite, but my heart does beat faster. I disengage from his grip and make a show of getting a mug from the kitchen cabinet so I can pour myself a mug of coffee I don’t want to drink. I’ve had too much caffeine today already. It will keep me up late tonight. Maybe I need to be up late tonight. Maybe I need to be prepared. If my husband is not confronting me with his mistress, he might be getting ready to do it with my mistake.

“Christian’s going to rent the carriage house,” Ken says.

I drop the mug but catch it before it can hit the counter, or worse, the floor. I turn with it gripped in both hands. “What?”

“Nice catch,” Christian says. “Good hands.”

I put the mug on the counter and my hands on my hips. “I’m sorry, what about the carriage house?”

“He’s going to rent it.” Ken says this slowly, enunciating not as though I didn’t hear the words, but that I am not comprehending them.

With the weight of Christian’s gaze on me, I make the effort of keeping my expression neutral. I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me, my marriage, or anything else, but I’m trying to be careful. I don’t trust him. I know better than to do that.

I swallow a rush of bitterness. “The carriage house … we aren’t renting it … I mean, it’s not in good enough shape to rent it.”

The carriage house in the backyard was never meant for horses. My parents had converted it from a detached garage in the late seventies with the idea that my mother’s mom, Gramma Nancy, would live there instead of a nursing home. She’d stayed there for only a few months before it had become obvious that she wasn’t going to be able to take care of herself, even with the one-floor living plan that included a small kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bedroom. After she’d been moved into the care home, the carriage house had become a space for visiting relatives from out of town, off limits to me and Jonathan, and, of course, intensely attractive for just that reason. I’d given away my virginity in that carriage house to the man sitting across from my husband.

“He’s going to take care of updating it for us,” Ken says smoothly.

Christian gives us both a modest look. “I need a place to stay during my surgical residency. I’m hardly going to be there, really, what with all the stuff I’ll have to do at the hospital. But I am something of a hobbyist when it comes to home improvement, so in my spare time, I told Ken I’d be happy to tackle some of the repairs in exchange for part of the rent.”