Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4

by Romance, Smartypants

  Shelf Awareness

  Green Valley Library Book #4

  Katie Ashley

  www.smartypantsromance.com

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, rants, facts, contrivances, and incidents are either the product of the author’s questionable imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or undead, events, locales is entirely coincidental if not somewhat disturbing/concerning.

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  Copyright © 2019 by Smartypants Romance; All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, photographed, instagrammed, tweeted, twittered, twatted, tumbled, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without explicit written permission from the author.

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  Made in the United States of America

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  eBook Edition

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek: My Bare Lady, Book #1 in the Scorned Women’s Society Series by Piper Sheldon

  Chapter One

  Turning left and right, I stared at my reflection in the three-way mirror. For the first time in a long time, I liked the woman I saw. This woman didn’t scowl at her image. Framed by dark hair, her face wore a coy, yet confident smile. Her body, which had been recently transformed by a thirty-pound weight loss and strenuous fitness training, fit nicely into a black bustier and lacy panty set. With her blue eyes, she could finally see light between her thighs, now adorned with sexy thigh-highs.

  With a nod, I gave my reflection a goofy thumbs-up along with a toothy grin. I stopped just short of doing some sort of happy dance. Normally, I wasn’t into such displays of self-appreciation. I wasn’t a glass half-empty gal when it came to self-esteem, but more like, “Wait, there’s a glass?” But today was different. Today wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Thursday. Today signaled the day I took my marriage back.

  At the thought of Grant, I exclaimed, “Shit!” I didn’t have to glance at my fitness watch to know I needed to get going or I would be late. Furiously, I threw my dress on over my lingerie. After tugging on the hem to make sure I wouldn’t be mooning the day spa’s clientele, I grabbed my purse and hustled to the door.

  Exiting the dressing room, I powerwalked down the hall. I didn’t normally spend a Thursday decadently getting sea salt wraps and stone massages. Thursdays, along with the rest of the weekdays, were spent in my office. I was Chief Editor for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. Today I’d been encouraged by my husband, who worked for the AJC’s parent company, Cox Communications, to take a day for myself at the spa.

  I’d seen it as the perfect opportunity to enact the plan that had been stewing in my mind for the last month. It was a sex specific plan. Considering I couldn’t remember the last time Grant and I had had sex, it had become an all-out battle plan, which I had named Operation Seduction. If everything went along with my well-thought out plan, Operation Seduction wasn’t the only thing going down tonight, if you catch my drift.

  As I walked out into the perfect, sunny day, I couldn’t fight my rising excitement for getting home to enact Operation Seduction. Instead of the marriage cliché of the seven-year-itch, Grant and I had been experiencing a five-year one. If I was honest, it had started somewhere in the middle of year four. That was the year we started trying for a baby, which so far had turned into an unsuccessful venture. After the obligatory unsuccessful year had passed, we sought treatment at a fertility clinic six months ago. A barrage of intrusive procedures later, and we had a discouraging diagnosis: unexplained infertility. Everything should have been working perfectly, but it wasn’t.

  Before heading down the road of IUIs and IVF, Grant was encouraged to wear boxers instead of his usual briefs to free up his swimmers while I had been instructed to lose a little weight. As a naturally driven person, I’d hired a personal trainer to help me shed the pounds and become healthier. Xavier was the stereotypical personal trainer with pecs that rivaled my B cups, abs you could grate cheese on, and thighs the size of tree trunks. But he wasn’t just a perfect body. No, with his chiseled good looks, he made you wet with more than just sweat. Of course, he wasn’t only out of my league with how impossibly beautiful he was, there was also the fact he was gay.

  A few days ago at my weekly weigh-in with Xavier, I’d met my goal loss of thirty pounds. When my ovulation calculator highlighted my upcoming peak fertility days, I knew it was time to ramp it up and get it on. That’s when the plan for Operation Seduction formed in my mind.

  As I maneuvered my SUV through midtown Atlanta’s notorious traffic, I wanted to stay in the zone, and I knew just the thing to do that. “Siri, play the Seduction Playlist.” A few seconds later Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing began pumping through the car. I nodded my head to the beat.

  Easing up to the red light, I tapped my thumbs on the steering wheel. Throwing my head back, I belted, “When I get that feeling, I want sexual healing.”

  I glanced over to see the elderly couple beside me staring open-mouthed at me. Normally, I would have whipped the volume down on the radio while simultaneously sliding down the seat to hide. I tended to care too much about what others, even strangers, thought of me. It drove my husband crazy.

  But not today. I was on too much of an adrenaline kick for that. Instead, I just nodded my head at them. Oh yeah, folks, I’m getting me some sexual healing tonight. Some of that good ol’ D in my box.

  Ew. Had I really just made the vagina/box analogy? Thankfully, the light turned green, and I sped off toward home. Three years ago, Grant and I had sold our house in the burbs to move closer to the city even though it was pricey. We’d ended up in a condo community in Sandy Springs close to work.

  After I eased the car into my deeded space, I grabbed my purse before flinging open the car door. Flashing my key fob at the security panel, I headed inside to the bank of elevators. I took the first one to the fifth floor.

  As I stepped off the elevator, I somewhat lamented the lack of a personal garage and grass and a mailbox where, after grabbing the mail, I’d throw my hand up at my neighbor driving by. Grant loved to tease me about being old-fashioned. It’s what he constantly called me when he’d broached the idea of moving into a condo. He’d finally worn me down with his arguments about how much more practical it was to live in a condo where he didn’t have to worry about cutting the grass, and we had access to a gym and a pool.

  When I entered the front door, I tossed my keys and purse on the entrance table. I headed into the bedroom to get started on part one of my seduction plan. But the sound of the shower running sent me skidding to a stop. Shit! Grant was already home. That meant I was going to have to curb some aspects of my seduction plan, like the trail of rose petals into the bedroom and the flickering candles lighting the room.

  Instead, I would go straight for the big reveal of the plan aka my body. I stripped off my dress and hurriedly threw it i
n the hamper. As OCD as he was, Grant would’ve totally been taken out of the moment if he’d seen my dress crumpled on the floor.

  After fluffing my hair, I brought my hand to my mouth and breathed into it. “Breath is good,” I murmured. Throwing a glance in the mirror over the chest of drawers, I checked my makeup. I’d totally splurged by having it professionally done at the spa. Although I considered myself a successful woman, I failed when it came to the application of makeup, especially since I had yet to master the art of highlighting and contouring. Not to mention fake lashes.

  Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I climbed up on the bed. I tried out a few positions to surmise which one I would look sexiest in. At the sound of the water turning off, I quickly turned on my left side. I propped up on my elbow with my head supported by my hand.

  When Grant entered the bedroom, I tossed my hair back and smiled at him over my shoulder. “Hey, baby,” I murmured in a breathy voice.

  Inwardly, I did a victory dance at the look of pure shock on Grant’s face. Considering how huge his eyes got, I knew I was totally rocking it. Just as I started seductively running a hand down my body, it hit me. I shot straight up on the bed. “Wait, if you’re out here, who the hell is in the bathroom?”

  Before Grant could answer me, the bathroom door creaked open. Frantically, I pitched forward to grab the decorative vase off the nightstand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do. At the sight of the potential intruder, I gasped. “X-Xavier?”

  My personal trainer stood practically naked before me except for a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist. Ordinarily, I would have paused a moment to ogle the sight of the droplets of water sliding down his rock-hard abs, but I was too floored and had too many questions.

  Xavier’s eyes widened almost as much as Grant’s had. “Um, hello, Finley.” His gaze flickered from my eyes to Grant’s and then back to mine.

  Forgoing the usual pleasantries, I demanded, “What the hell are you doing naked in the middle of my bedroom?”

  “I, uh . . .” Once again, Xavier threw a panic-stricken look at Grant. Why the hell did he seem so worried about Grant? Even if Grant was enraged at finding Xavier in our bedroom, which he didn’t appear to be, it wasn’t like Xavier couldn’t beat him in a fight. He had about two feet and thirty pounds on him. Besides, the two of them had met before, so it wasn’t like Grant was walking in on me with some stranger. I’m pretty sure Grant was aware Xavier was gay, so it wasn’t like he was a threat to our marriage.

  But when I glanced at Grant to set him straight, his face revealed everything I never wanted to know. Life as I knew it stopped in that moment. I was rocked to the very core of my being. The aftershocks were so intense they caused me to shudder.

  Grant was having an affair. Grant was having an affair with my personal trainer. Grant was cheating on me with another man.

  Holy fucking hell.

  “I’m sorry, Finley. I never meant for any of this to happen,” Grant said.

  I jerked my head to stare at him. Since the synapses in my brain had short-circuited, I could only blink in response. The realizations of the last few seconds had rendered me incapacitated. Like someone in a coma when you ask them to blink once for yes and twice for no. My mind had shut down in a vain attempt at self-preservation.

  “We certainly never meant to hurt you,” Xavier said.

  Slowly, I swiveled my gaze to him. “You . . .” Once again, I found myself incapable of articulating my emotions. In spite of being unable to vocalize my feelings, my internal monologue was shouting itself hoarse.

  How do you have the audacity to say you didn’t mean to hurt me?

  What else would I experience but hurt when I learned you and my husband had been sleeping together? It sure as hell wasn’t euphoria or even relief. It was pure unadulterated hurt.

  Although there was a slew of other things both my mind and I wanted to say to him, I merely replied, “Get. Out.”

  He had the gall to appear wounded at my declaration. “For what it’s worth, Finley, you look absolutely amazing. We really worked a miracle in the last few months.”

  With clenched fists, I threw my head back, and with all the courage I could muster, I shouted, “GET OUT!”

  Apparently, I mustered a lot because Xavier scrambled back into the bathroom so fast he almost fell on his ass. Under other circumstances, I would have found it comical. After snatching his clothes off the floor, he rushed past me and then out the bedroom door. Apparently, I was pretty imposing because he didn’t stop to put his clothes on since I heard the front door quickly slam.

  After Xavier’s exit, a thick tension permeated the room. Although we were alone, Grant and I weren’t talking. We just stood stock still, looking anywhere in the room but at each other. Suddenly, I found myself feeling too exposed in spite of wearing lingerie. I’d never experienced that feeling before around Grant. I grabbed a throw off the back of one of the bedroom chairs and wrapped it around me.

  Finally, after an eternity of stony silence had crawled by, I shook my head. “How?” I murmured.

  Grant’s surprised gaze met mine. “How what?”

  “How . . .” I licked my lips, which had run as dry as the Sahara. “How did we get here?” Before I let Grant respond, I added, “I know things haven’t been stellar, but I never thought it was as bad as—” Since I couldn’t find the words, I merely motioned around the bedroom to sum up what had just transpired. “This.”

  Exhaling a ragged sigh, Grant said, “There was a purpose in today.”

  “A purpose?” I blinked at him. “A purpose in witnessing my trainer naked and in my bedroom for the purpose of screwing my husband?”

  Grant winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Ah, then what could possibly be the fucking purpose behind today’s events?”

  “I meant, I sent you to the spa for a purpose. I wanted to do something really nice for you because I planned to tell you about Xavier tonight. When I asked Xavier to stop by, I didn’t think you would be home until much later.”

  “Yes, that part I can believe.” Cocking my head at him, I asked, “How long has it been going on?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  A mirthless laugh bubbled from my lips. “Yes. Of course, it does.”

  Grant jerked a hand through his hair. “Remember that day you introduced the two of us?”

  Three months ago, Grant had come home from work early to find me working out with Xavier. I had originally wanted to keep my workouts a secret since I didn’t want Grant to be disappointed in me for quitting yet another workout regime. I was totally surprised when the two of them struck up an easy conversation. They hit it off so well that Xavier had even stayed for dinner. At the realization of what that truly meant, I slowly nodded my head.

  “That night I couldn’t sleep for thinking about him. At first, I thought it was just about wanting to be around someone so full of life.”

  My chin trembled. “I’m not full of life?”

  Grant raked a hand through his hair. “You used to be. Then all the fertility stuff just seemed to drain it all out of you.”

  I swiped the tears from my cheeks. “Yeah, well, you try having your nether regions poked and prodded in the pursuit of whether you’re viable to carry a child.”

  “I had to do a semen analysis.”

  “You jerked off in a cup. Big. Fucking. Deal!” I snapped.

  “I’m sorry. I was just stating facts.”

  “Why don’t we get back to the facts? You wanted to hang out with Xavier because he was so full of life. Then what?” I prompted.

  “The next day I called him to procure his services.”

  “Ah, so procuring his services is code for banging him.”

  “Do you have to be so crude?”

  I threw up my hands in exasperation. “You’ve been having an affair, but I’m the crude one?”

  “It wasn’t banging with Xavier. It was a connection. Being around him
ignited something in me I’d never really allowed myself to acknowledge.”

  “Have there been others?” I swallowed hard. “Other men?”

  “No,” he replied adamantly.

  Cocking my brows at him, I countered, “How can I believe you?”

  “Because for the first time in my life I know who I am. Trust me, Finley, I’ve been lying to myself a lot longer than I have to you. This isn’t just an affair or a mid-life crisis—”

  “Jesus, Grant, we’re not that old.”

  He swept his hands to his hips in a huff. “Would you let me finish?”

  “Fine.”

  “Like I was saying, this isn’t just an affair or mid-life crisis. It’s who I am, and nothing you can say or do is going to change that.”

  “You won’t get any arguments out of me about labeling you a cheater.”

  “It’s more than that.” Grant swallowed hard. “I’m gay.”

  His words sent me spiraling backward until my knees bumped into the mattress. Thankfully, the bed was there, or I would have probably collapsed to the floor. My husband was gay. I’m not sure why hearing those words were almost worse than seeing his naked lover in our bedroom. Maybe it was because there was no coming back from him being gay. Experimentation was one thing. An admission of being bisexual was another. But Grant hadn’t left any gray room. It was all black and white.

  “You’re gay,” I stated. I didn’t have to question him again. We’d been together long enough for me to know when he was absolutely certain about something. He’d worn the same expression on his face when he’d seen the condo.