Still Into You

Leila asked questions, taking notes and additional photos. She did everything she was supposed to be doing. But her mind was decidedly somewhere else. Mostly on Kade and how he kept easing in and out of her personal space, bringing with him the smell of expensive aftershave and man. He had touched her shoulder to punctuate sentences, pressed his fingertips to the small of her back to lead her in a different direction. Each time he got near her, Leila found herself heating in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.

And she felt like absolute shit about it.

This was not who she was. She’d only slept with and loved one man her entire life. Seth. The gorgeous man who had married her at nineteen despite the fact that it would’ve been easier for him to walk away or ask her to have an abortion. He’d been the boy who all the other pretty co-eds had drooled over, but he’d chosen her—the nerdy art student who didn’t know a mascara wand from a toilet brush. He’d been willing to give up on his dreams and youthful freedom to marry her. They’d been a team, raising the baby they hadn’t planned for, dealing with whatever life threw at them. He’d been her hero.

Had been. Until he’d started spending more and more time at work. As his stress level and workload had gone up, the bond between them had dwindled down to a lackluster friendship. The passion had drained out of their relationship like a receding ocean tide.

Even so, the fact that she could look at another man with lust in her heart felt like a betrayal. But she didn’t know how to stop the stirring of desire. The restlessness. Her body had been on autopilot for years, but lately it seemed like some dormant area had been prodded. Suddenly she wanted more than what she had at home. Wanted to have a man look at her like he had to have her. Wanted to feel the same urgency when she looked at him. Needed that zing that only came from true sexual energy.

Something she, once upon a time, had with the man she loved.

Kade touched her shoulder again, and Leila nearly jumped out of her skin. “You’ve gotten quiet. Are those design gears working?”

A nervous laugh escaped her. “Oh, sorry. I’m picturing what color schemes would work best with the stone of the fireplace. The hearth will make a really beautiful focal point.”

“Agreed. So beautiful.”

She glanced up and caught him looking at her instead of the fireplace. She swallowed hard. “Uh, are you ready to show me the upstairs rooms? I mean, if you want to talk about the downstairs plans first, that’s fine. It’s just, it’s usually easier for me to give you the overall scheme at once and—”

He touched her arm and used a tone usually reserved for skittish horses. “Leila, take a breath. There’s no need to be nervous. What happened to that confident woman who’s been selling me on her ideas over the phone these last few weeks?”

She put her hand to her too warm forehead, wishing there was a trapdoor in the floor to suck her under. “I’m sorry, Kade. I’m not sure what’s with me tonight.”

“If you’re worried about getting selected for the job, I can put your mind at ease. You have my business. I had already decided to hire you before tonight.”

She lowered her hand, looking at him in surprise. “But I’ve only talked to you about a few of my ideas.”

“And those ideas were heads and shoulders above anything anyone else sent me.” He shrugged. “You have a great eye.”

“But then why did you call me out here tonight?”

He ran a hand over the back of his hair, looking a little unsure of himself for the first time. “The real answer or the appropriate one?”

Her lips went as dry as parchment. “Real.”

“Because I wanted to see if you were going to be as beautiful and enticing in person as you sounded on the phone.” His smile was part apology, part wolfish. “Half of me was hoping you wouldn’t be because I’m having a helluva time concentrating on talking renovations right now when all I want to do is ask you out.”

A little gasp passed her lips. She stared at him, the flowered wallpaper of the sitting room seeming to swirl and morph in the background as she attempted to make sense of what he was saying. He wanted to ask her out? She barely resisted the urge to look over her shoulder to see if he was talking to someone else. Maybe he’d been drinking.

He gave a short laugh, his own nervousness evident. “Uh, maybe I should’ve stuck with the appropriate answer instead.”

She closed her eyes for a second, gathering herself. “Kade, I’m … flattered.” And seduced and totally tempted. And a horrible, vile person. “But, I can’t. I’m married.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I got the vibe we were flirting on the phone and when I saw you weren’t wearing a ring I assumed …”

Her brows knitted. “What?”

Both she and Kade looked down to her left hand and, to her horror, she saw she hadn’t put her wedding ring back on after her shower. She never forgot her ring.

And what had he said? She’d been flirty on the phone?

She thought back to their many calls back and forth over the last few weeks. They’d developed a good rapport and had shared a few laughs. He’d made a few comments about how she was becoming a habit. And … shit, she had been flirty.

Her blood began to pound in her ears. Had she left her ring on the edge of the sink subconsciously hoping for exactly what had happened?

She shoved her notes in her bag, her hands going clammy. “Kade, I’m sorry. But I have to go.”

“Oh, no,” he said, genuine remorse on his face. “This is my fault. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I really do want you for this job. I wasn’t lying about how much I love your design ideas.”

“Maybe it would be best if—”

“Please, Leila. Can we just start over and I’ll not be a jackass this time?” He gave her a disarming grin and lifted his palms. “I would’ve never said anything if I had known you were married.”

She knew she was overreacting. It’s not like he’d come on to her knowing she was attached. But her own reaction had her too freaked out to continue the meeting. She wanted this job so bad she could taste it, but she needed some space to get her head back on straight and her defenses back in place. “Can we just plan to meet at my office sometime next week? We can go over my plans there.”

In a totally businesslike environment.

He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you’d like.”

“And bring photos of the game room if you can,” she said, already heading back toward the front door.

His heavier footsteps followed hers. “That’s okay. I think I’ll handle that room on my own.”

She had no idea why he was being so weird about the game room, but she wasn’t going to hang out and question him about it. She needed out. Now. Before she totally lost her shit in front of him.

He walked her to her car and apologized at least three more times, but she barely heard any of it. She wasn’t even sure she took a breath until she turned the corner out of his swanky neighborhood. The radio, which was still on the talk station, chattered in the background as she tried to organize the tangle of emotions rioting through her.

How could she have let this happen?

Her hands were slick with sweat against the wheel, and she wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like. Breathe.

“Tonight we’re talking about the seven-year itch. Is it a myth? An excuse used to justify cheating? We’d love to hear from our listeners out there. 1-888-Doc-Love.” The voice of Dr. Dan Witter, relationship coach and popular radio personality, filtered through her panicked brain like weird background music, poking the ugly things inside her.

She gripped the steering wheel harder and turned onto a side street, her heart still pounding. Cheating.

The word sent her stomach into a tumble.

She hadn’t done anything tonight. She hadn’t cheated.

But … she’d wanted to.

Tears filled her eyes and the street blurred. She pulled over to the side of the road and let that realization overtake her. When had she become this person?

Her marriage was dying a quiet death, and she had no idea how to resuscitate it. She and Seth had kids and a life together. How was she supposed to tell the man she’d fallen in love with and the father of her children that she’d gotten to this point?

She leaned back against the headrest, letting the tears fall, and without allowing herself to think about it too much, she picked up her cell phone and dialed.

Chapter Three (#uebff4b3e-6162-5ab8-b1b6-09d05d3e757b)