He turned around to face me. I quickly took my eyes off the bed and looked up at him. The corner of his mouth pulled up, and when he looked into my eyes it was like he knew what I was thinking.
"I'll take the room. How soon can I move in?"
"The final decision on renting the room will be in my husband's hands. Come by for dinner and you can meet him."
"I'll see you tonight. Thank you, Mrs. Valentine." He stuck out his hand and I took it. Even with that brief shake, I could feel the calloused roughness of his palm, which was in sharp contrast to my husband's smooth hands. His hand felt like trouble, but I assured myself that I would not have the opportunity to act on the thoughts those hands were putting into my head. My husband would make the final decision to rent to him, and Bill would never agree to rent the room to a man like this.
"So what is it you do, James?"
My husband smiled affably at the young man sitting to his right at the supper table. We were almost finished with our supper, and my husband had dominated the conversation. I ate my food without tasting a thing, as the tension inside me made me feel brittle and easily broken. Despite my certainty that Bill would eject James from our home, he'd been warm and welcoming when James had come to the door.
Perhaps he would not have been so easy with the younger man if he knew about the thoughts and desires that were coursing through me. I know that he would not allow James in our house if I told him what was going on inside me, but I could not do that to him. It would hurt him to know that another man was making me feel things, making me think things. If we rented the room to James, I would have to be strong and resist the powerful temptation he presented.
"I'm looking for work at the moment, but don't worry. I have enough money saved and will be able to pay for the room. I like fixing things, and I'm going to talk to the owner of Halloran's Garage and see if he has a need for a mechanic."
"I know Bob Halloran. He’s good people. Tell him you're renting from me and Marie and I'm sure he'll find something for you."
This wasn't going in the direction I'd expected it to when James had left earlier today. I was sure that Bill would dislike him on sight, but that apparently wasn't the case. I must be hiding what was going on inside me at the sight of James in his T-shirt, because my husband seemed oblivious. My eyes caressed the curve of Jame's bicep and the solid strength in his shoulders when my husband's eyes were elsewhere.
James glanced over at me, and the smile he'd given me earlier today was back. It was the one that kicked up the corner of his mouth and made him look like he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
Thank God dinner was coming to an end. I didn't know how much more of this I could take before I started squirming in my chair. The only thing that remained was dessert and coffee, and with any luck I could get through it without giving Bill any hint of the thoughts going through my head.
"I made pie if anyone would like some." Serving the pie would give me the excuse I needed to get out of this room. The smell of James’ aftershave made me want to be alone with him, and bury my face in his neck while he buried his hand between my legs. I pasted a smile on my face and forced myself to look at Bill. My husband looked back at me for a moment and there was nothing in his eyes to suggest he knew that anything untoward was happening between James and I. In all reality, I was certain this was all in my head and that there was truly nothing between me and the other man in the room except what my mind wanted to conjure up.
"Would you like some pie, James? My wife makes the best pie in the county."
James looked over at me with that same half smirk. "I'm powerfully tempted, but I will have to pass on it tonight. I told a friend of mine I'd help him out with his car and I should be on my way."
Relief poured through me. He was leaving, and I could relax for the first time since he'd walked back into my house this evening. I stood and started gathering the dishes to take them to the kitchen.
"Let me help with that, Mrs. Valentine." James stood and gathered some of the dishes that were on his side of the table.
"There is no need for that, James. I can manage. I'm sure you'll want to be leaving to go help your friend." I reached out my hand for the dishes he was holding, but he would not give them to me. I hoped that my husband would insist that he sit and talk with him for a few more minutes, but Bill was no help whatsoever.
"I think I'll wait on the pie, darling." Bill stood and took his pipe off the stand on the sideboard. He stuck out his hand toward James, who shook it with his free hand. "It was nice meeting you James. The room is yours if you want it."
With those words dashing all hope that my husband would unknowingly save me from myself, he turned and went into the living room. Soon after the radio came on and I was alone in the dining room with James.
"It's no trouble to help you out, Mrs. Valentine. I need to go to the kitchen in order to be on my way."
I knew that the sooner I got to the kitchen, the sooner he did too. I needed him out of my house so I could regroup and marshal my defenses against him. I took the dishes that I had in my hand and went into the kitchen. I set them down on the counter in preparation for washing them. James followed me in, put down the dishes he was carrying and leaned against the counter as soon as I turned on the water.
"Your husband seems like a nice man, Mrs. Valentine."
The way he kept referring to me as Mrs. Valentine made me feel like Bill's mother. I might be a woman seven years married, but I wasn't as old as he made it sound.
"If you are going to be staying here, you can call me Marie."
"Marie is it? That's not quite the mouthful that Mrs. Valentine is. Are you sure your husband won't object?" He ran the tip of his finger down the side of my bare arm, starting where the short sleeve of my dress ended and traveled down to my elbow. Goosebumps sprang up on my skin and my nipples hardened. Thank God my brassier and the heavy cotton of my dress hid my physical reaction to his touch, but I had a feeling that he knew exactly that he was doing to me. I swallowed hard, but I did not tell him to keep his hands to himself.
"Why would my husband object?" I looked up at him, and ran my tongue nervously over my lower lip. I knew in my heart, that he was not talking about his using my given name.
"He not the jealous type?" His eyes traveled over my face before coming to rest on my lips as he leaned forward slightly. I could feel his breath, warm against my face and I trembled. It was hard to focus on the thread of the conversation, but I managed to answer him.
"I've never given him a reason to be jealous." And I hadn't. In the months that Bill had courted me, and in the seven years we'd been married, I had never felt anything close to what this man was doing to me right now. Was this a test? Had unknown forces sent this young man to tempt me and test the strength of my marriage?
I didn't know exactly what it was about him that ignited the spark of unfaithful thoughts in my head. But I knew, even in those first moments alone with him in my kitchen, with my husband only a few rooms away innocently smoking his pipe and listening to the radio, that this young man would tempt the devil himself.
"If I had a wife who looked as good as you, I'd be jealous." He was so close now that I could see the brown flecks in the green of his eyes. Only a fraction of an inch separated our lips, and all I needed to do was shift forward and I would feel his mouth on mine.
Something on the radio must have tickled my husband's sense of humor and he laughed out loud. The sound of it was like a bucket of ice water, and I gasped and sprang away from James. What was I doing? What was I thinking? My husband was in the next room, he could come into the kitchen at any time and the last thing I wanted was for him to see me kissing another man.
"Well I guess it's a good thing that my husband trust me, isn't it." I needed to get this man out of this house before I forgot just how much my marriage meant to me and that I'd be stupid to do anything to jeopardize it. "Thank you for your help with the dishes, but I'm sure you'll wanted to be getting on you
r way."
He looked at me for a second, with speculation in his eyes. I suspected that he knew just how much he was tempting me, because that smirk appeared again.
"Sure, Mrs. Valentine." He moved away from me and the breath I was holding eased out of my lungs. His boots were silent on my shiny linoleum floor as he walked toward the door. He scooped his leather jacket off the hook I'd hung it on, slung it over his shoulder and gave me one last look over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
And then he was gone, taking the smell of leather and his aftershave with him. I sagged against the counter, and wished that my husband has seen the danger that James posed to our marriage. If he had, surely he would have objected to his staying here and I would not be tested like this. But my husband hadn't seen it, and I didn't have the will to tell James not to come back.
The rest of the story is available here on Amazon.
Also by Laci Mitchell
Misbehaving Mia, Revenge of the Hot Wife 1
Naughty Nina, Revenge of the Hot Wife 2
The Seduction of Mrs. Valentine: Episode 1
The Seduction of Mrs. Valentine: Episode 2
The Seduction of Mrs. Valentine: Episode 3
The Seduction of Mrs. Valentine: Episode 4
A Wife Scorned: Complete Series Page 13