She grunted, narrowing her dark eyes a bit. “Good men are the worst. They’re blind to their infallibility. They think they’re good, which makes them incapable of seeing their faults. They unknowingly put themselves in harm’s way because they’re overconfident. They buy a co-worker a drink, claiming innocence and friendship, then they blame their spontaneous moment of infidelity on whiskey or tequila. They slither home and try to hide from the guilt, but eventually it pours out when their wife says something as simple as, ‘Thanks for taking out the trash, Bob. You’re the best.’ Then he falls to his knees, sobbing like a baby who lost his binky.”
I grinned, trying to dismiss her generalizations about good men. “You don’t think that’s a bit cynical? Are you saying bad men are better?”
“Bad men are my favorite. They unapologetically take what they want without excuses. They fuck you once in the bathroom of the bar, again in the car, and against the outside of your apartment door. They don’t think about getting caught because they made up their minds before ever sticking their dick in you that you were worth the risk. I’ve never had a bad man make me feel like I was a bad decision. And I’ve never had a bad man cheat on me and ask for a second chance or forgiveness.”
Again, she grunted a laugh. “Maybe bad people are perceived as being bad when in actuality they’re brutally honest. And good people are in fact the liars we can’t truly trust. They claim those lies are their attempt to save us from feeling too much pain. Nope. Give me the bad guy who doesn’t even take off his wedding band over the guy who nervously rubs his thumb over his naked ring finger while staring at my cleavage.”
I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. “I’d love to hear more about your stereotypes for men, but today was Franz’s first day of school, and I want to be home in time to hear all about it over dinner.”
“Sorry. I’m sure you’re in a bit of a conundrum. That wasn’t fair of me.”
“What conundrum is that?” I turned and continued toward my car.
“You can’t win. If you stick with the good-guy stereotype, you know I think you’re a coward who doesn’t have the gumption to take what he wants whenever he wants it. On the other hand, if you go with the bad-guy image, it’s basically an invitation to pursue you.”
“What the hell?” I stuttered as her words become nothing but background chatter when my flat tires came into view.
“Oh … that’s not good.” Adrianne squatted, inspecting the tire, one of two flat tires.
One tire would have passed as a bad tire or a nail. Two tires raised suspicion. I lived in an uppity ski town. Vandalism was rare. Anyway, who slashed two random tires? No one. So that meant I had pissed someone off. But who? I had no known enemies.
“Not how I wanted this day to end.” I retrieved my phone again to call Evie.
Adrianne stood and rested her hand on my arm. “Don’t bother anyone, especially your wife since it’s your kid’s big day. I’ll give you a ride home.”
She was right. Evie planned on making lasagna, Franz’s favorite, and probably cookies—snickerdoodles. She was likely in the middle of meal prep. “I can call my friend Noah or a taxi.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tugged on my arm until I stumbled a few steps toward her. “I’m right here. I have no family. No plans. I won’t take no for an answer. Let’s go.”
Bad ideas usually came with good reasons. Maybe she’d drop me off at the end of my drive.
“Oh, sorry.” She laughed, reaching over the console as I opened the passenger door to her red BMW. “Casper is my baby. His toys end up spread throughout my house and my car.” She tossed several dog toys into the backseat. “But I can’t complain. He’s the best dog.”
I slid into the seat and shut the door. “What breed of dog?”
“Bernese Mountain Dog.”
“That’s a large dog.”
She laughed. “Yes. He’s huge. A gentle giant.” Backing out of the parking spot, she shot me a playful wink.
“I’d love to get a dog for the kids.”
“Oh! You should get one from the breeder where I got Casper. She only has one litter a year. It’s not a business, just a passion. They are well cared for and very healthy.”
“I’ll think about it. It’s been a while since I suggested it to Evelyn. I brought it up before her mom died, but we decided to wait. And we just haven’t talked about it again.”
“I didn’t know her mom died. I’m sorry.”
I nodded several times. “Thank you.”
“My mother has been battling cancer for the last year, so I’ve been slowly preparing for the possibility of losing her.”
“Oh, I … I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “I don’t tell that many people, probably because I don’t have any friends.”
What was I supposed to say? Before I had a chance to think of something, she said it herself.
“It’s hard to make and keep friends when people think I’m after their husbands. You don’t know how much it means to me that Evelyn isn’t that way. Clearly, she feels secure in your marriage. I hope you never do anything to break her trust in you.”
I glanced at her, but she kept her head forward, both hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Someone broke Adrianne, which sent her down a path of destruction, obliterating the lives of innocent and some probably not-so-innocent victims. She never shared specific details in the group, but resentment dripped from her words—the grinding of her teeth, the sharp release of her breath.
“Trust is hard. It comes in many forms. We trust the people we love to be honest, but we also trust them to protect us. What happens when the two are at odds?”
“Depends.” Adrianne’s deep red lips twisted to the side. “You have to be sure your intentions are true … pure. If you lie to someone you love to protect them, it better be completely for them.”
“Have you ever lied to selflessly protect someone?”
“No.” She smirked. “I did it for money and revenge, but I never disguised it as love.”
I shook my head, glancing out the window as we approached the road to my house. Before I had a chance to say anything, she turned right.
Taking a thick swallow, I scraped my teeth along my bottom lip. “Should I be worried that you know where I live?” Inching my gaze back to her, I waited for a response. Anything to explain how she knew where to go.
Her expression fell flat as if she didn’t hear me. I didn’t mumble or whisper. The radio was off. The road had been smooth. She heard me.
“Toby’s story irritated me tonight. I didn’t buy a word he said. I can’t believe Mike didn’t call him out on it. Seriously … who blames their addiction on their fifteen-year-old daughter?”
Toby’s fifteen-year-old daughter ran him over on purpose with an ATV. He got addicted to opioids. Adrianne must have caught something in the story that I didn’t. The guy had half a leg amputated, and his wife left him because she just couldn’t handle being married to a “cripple.” And his daughter got off scot-free because Toby told the police it was an accident.
I loved my kids right down to my soul, but I wondered if even that kind of eternal love could be severed if one of them chased me down for nearly a mile, weaving in and out of trees until I tripped, allowing them to run over me multiple times like roadkill.
So, while I didn’t completely understand Toby lying for his daughter, I also didn’t understand Adrianne being so critical of his moment of honesty earlier. I mean … he broke down in tears, feeling like a failure, wondering what he did wrong. Apparently, taking away a child’s cellphone after catching her with two naked guys in the back of the family minivan was what old Toby did wrong.
Note to self: Don’t give Franz and Anya cellphones—ever.
But really, screw Toby, his psycho daughter, and his heartless wife … I had bigger issues. Adrianne made it to my driveway without asking me for my address or assistance in navigating. And when I asked her about it … she brought up TOBY!
/> “I should come inside and say hi to Evelyn. I feel like we didn’t get to say much to each other at the restaurant when we met.” She put her BMW in Park.
“How did you know where I live?” I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door, staying in the seat until she answered me.
Adrianne gave me a soft smile. “Calm down. It’s not near as interesting or suspicious as what you’re clearly thinking.” She rolled her eyes. “I was behind you a few weeks back.” She jerked her head toward the main road. “You pulled into your driveway. I assumed you lived here. I guess this could have been really embarrassing had it not been your home.” On a wink, she lowered her voice, “Like … had it been your mistress’s house.”
“I don’t have a mistress.”
Her mouth quirked into a half smile as she lifted a single shoulder. “Well, that’s why I figured this had to be your house. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to spook you. Just an honest coincidence.”
Had Adrianne not shared part of her story, had Evelyn not told me about her home-wrecking past, would I have been so distrusting? Probably not.
As I started to climb out of the seat, my wife, peeking through the kitchen window, snagged my attention.
“I’m sure Evelyn would love to say hello to you.”
One hundred percent not true.
“Please, come inside for a few minutes.”
My options were all terrible. Not inviting her inside would have made my innocent plea to Evie much harder. Who invites their mistress into the house? Adrianne was not my mistress, but perception meant everything at that point. Evelyn could be upset that I let Adrianne give me a ride home. But if I invited her into the house, she couldn’t accuse me of anything more. Right?
Fingers crossed.
“Sounds great!”
It didn’t. It sounded like a horrible idea. All the good ideas vanished when I agreed to let her give me a ride home.
“Hey,” I peeked my head in the back door, laying it on the chopping block for my wife. “I had two flat tires, so Adrianne gave me a ride home.” Adrianne followed me as I stepped into the house.
“Hello again.” Adrianne waved at Evelyn.
Evie wiped her hands on a dishtowel, more like strangled the towel. I predicted my neck would be next. “Hi,” she replied through clenched teeth and a forced smile.
“We didn’t get to talk much the night we met. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you loaning me your husband when I need an ear. I don’t have that many friends.”
I stood on the sideline between the two women with my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans.
Evie didn’t offer Adrianne anything more than a slow nod and an unblinking inspection like a fighter sizing up her competition.
“Well, thanks again for the ride.” I took a step toward Adrianne, herding her toward the door. But she didn’t budge one inch.
“Anytime. It was quite…” she bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes “… fun.”
Fun? No, it wasn’t fun. It was a ride. A ten-minute ride. I had no idea why she insisted on giving me a flirty grin while doing weird things with her eyes.
“I wouldn’t call having two flat tires fun. Still … thanks for the ride.” When she still didn’t budge, I stepped around her and opened the door. What could I say? See you later? The voice of reason in my head whispered not to say that. The last thing Evelyn would want to hear was that.
“I’d love to have coffee sometime.” Adrianne ignored the open door behind her as she addressed my wife again.
Evie shrugged. “You don’t need my permission to have coffee.”
I loved that woman, even if she refused to let me say the actual words.
Adrianne chuckled. “I meant, I’d love to have coffee with you sometime.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
Lie.
“Oh. Well, how about tea?”
Evie returned a tightlipped smile and shook her head.
“Wine.”
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
Another lie.
“Water?” Adrianne curled her hair behind her ears.
“Yes, I drink water. But who gets together over water? Thank you for returning my husband to me. Goodnight.” Evie turned, resuming her cooking.
Adrianne pivoted, shooting me a sad smile. “I guess friends are overrated,” she mumbled like a rejected child on a playground as she stepped out the door.
“Goodnight.” I refrained from saying anything else because I couldn’t read Adrianne, but I could read my wife.
“I could have picked you up,” Evie said with her back to me as I shut the door. “Noah probably would have picked you up. They also have these people called cab drivers or Lyft drivers that will drive you home for a small fee.”
On a sigh, I toed off my shoes. “She was insistent. I just wanted to get home. I didn’t want to stand in the parking lot arguing with her over a ten-minute drive.” Before she could say another word, my arms slid around her waist and my chin rested on her shoulder. “Are Franz and Anya playing in their rooms?”
She nodded to her phone on the nanny cam app and the split screen video footage of their rooms.
“Did Franz have a good first day?”
Another nod.
“Are you going to speak to me tonight? I need to call and get my car towed, but I need to know we’re good first.”
Evie dropped the bread knife on the cutting board and wiggled out of my arms to turn toward me. “Fun. She called the ride fun. What happened in her car that was so fun? Because she bit her lip like she wanted to eat you.”
“Evie … I don’t know.” My hands fell to my sides. I had to work in the morning. And two flat tires weren’t going to get me there. But I didn’t want to miss eating with my family. I just wanted to have a nice dinner and skip the third degree. More than that … I wanted to not feel so damn depressed, and I wanted my head to stop hurting. My left eye still felt like it was going to explode. “I’m going to go see the kids.”
As I started to turn, Evie grabbed my wrist. “That’s it? That’s the best you have?”
Yes. That was the best I had. Not feeling the urge to plead my case—to beg for her to tell me she wasn’t mad, that she understood—was proof that something was seriously messed-up in my head. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to kiss me like you missed me. I want you to back me into the nearest wall and put your hands in places that would confuse the kids if they caught us. I want you to whisper in my ear all the incredibly dirty things you can’t wait to do to me when the kids go to sleep.”
I wanted to want to do all of those things. I just … didn’t. Not with Evie. Not with Adrianne. Not with anyone. It was like someone reached into my body and ripped my sex drive right out of me, leaving behind a pathetic, limp man with the world’s sexiest wife.
“Maybe another night when I don’t have to figure out how I’m going to get my car fixed and back in the garage by morning. I’ll check on the kids while you finish up, unless you need me to do something else.”
She deflated.
I was unexplainably damaged, but not completely broken. Framing her face in my hands, I bent forward and brushed my nose against hers. “This raincheck has nothing to do with what’s-her-name.”
Evie placed her hands over my hands and lifted onto her toes a fraction to kiss me. I didn’t deny her. I liked kissing my wife, even if it didn’t ignite me the way it did before Lila got sick.
She fought me when I tried to end the kiss. The fingernails of one hand clawed into my hand while her other hand moved along my abs and below my waist. Her body turned to stone. We stopped.
My eyes closed as my forehead rested against her forehead.
“I thought it would take longer than five years for us to get to this point,” she whispered, releasing my limp dick and turning away from me to resume cutting the bread.
“Evie—”
“The kids are waiting for you. Just go.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Evelyn
“I’m co-parenting,” I said as soon as Lila answered her phone. After weeks of not talking about Adrianne’s attempt to befriend me, weeks of not having sex, weeks of not discussing Ronin’s inability to get an erection with my hand stroking his junk, I decided I needed my best friend.
“Hi,” she sounded groggy.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?” I glanced at my watch, cutting a new batch of soap.
“No. But I’m a little tired.” She cleared her throat, coming back with a little more strength in her voice. “What do you mean you’re co-parenting?”
“I’m living with the father of my children. We cook meals, clean, play with the kids, and share a bed—never crossing the invisible line in the middle. Sometimes, like before he leaves for work or right when he gets home, he gives me a hug and kiss on the top of my head, but that’s it. It’s the affection you’d give your mother or a sister, maybe even a friend.”
I thought of all the times Graham gave me the same kind of attention. At that point, I would have given anything for Ronin to look at me the way Graham looked at me. Why was the wrong person giving me the “more-than-friends” look?
“Has he told you why he’s not showing more affection?”
I sighed. “No. Well, sort of. He blames it on stress with work. But we’ve been through a lot of stress in our nearly six years of marriage, and it’s never had this effect on us. The problem is, on the outside we seem fine. He’s going to work, engaging with the kids, he even asks me about things at my shop and does his fair share of helping out around the house. Like I said, he’s a roommate, a co-parent. I miss my husband. My lover. But I’m afraid to say anything because …”
“Because why?”
I wiped my hands on a towel and picked up my phone, bringing it closer to my face in the unlikely chance Sophie could hear me from the front of the shop. “I don’t think he can get an erection. And I don’t want to embarrass him by asking about it.”
Silence.
I waited.
And waited.
She had licked my nipples. Why did erectile dysfunction silence her?
The Life You Stole Page 10