Instead, I turned and left the room, throwing over my shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything else." I continued back into the kitchen, where I found Sam leaning her hip against the counter, one hand to her mouth, unconsciously biting her nails.
"Holy shit, Lena," she said loudly when I walked in. "You did not tell me your private investigator is the most attractive man I've ever seen in person."
"Keep your voice down!" I whispered to her. The very last thing I needed was Preston Reid hearing us talk about how attractive he was. "And he is not the most attractive person you've ever seen," I countered.
She scoffed at me. "He abso-fucking-lutely is the hottest man I have ever encountered."
"You had your eyes on him for all of ten seconds," I said as I moved past her, trying to busy myself with cleaning the kitchen, needing a distraction.
"I only needed three," she replied. "What are you going to do?"
"What do you mean?"
"What are you going to do about the man in your husband's office who exudes sexual prowess?"
"Sam, you're being ridiculous. I've hired him to investigate my cheating husband, that's all."
"So you're not even going to try to see him naked?"
"What? No! I'm married."
"You're married to a man who has another woman on the side with whom he has two children." This was information I already had, but hearing someone else say the words so callously hurt.
"That doesn't mean I'm going to jump the first attractive man I come across."
"So you think he's attractive?" Sam asked, her voice more amused than it should have been.
"Excuse me, Lena?"
Both Sam and I twisted when we heard Preston's voice shoot through the room, and saw him standing in the entryway, the smirk on his face alluding to the fact he'd heard our conversation.
Shit.
"What can I help you with?" I asked.
"I need to look in your bedroom."
"My bedroom? What for?"
"You really don't understand how this whole investigative thing works, do you? I just need to look around, see if there's anything that piques my interest."
"You think he left clues to his affair in our bedroom?"
He shrugged in response.
I sneered at him again, but then moved to lead him to my bedroom.
"I'm going to head to the bank real quick to get you that money, Lena," I heard Sam call out as I walked down the hall.
"All right," I called back. I turned back to Preston. "She's going to loan me the retainer, so if you're still here when she gets back, you can have your money."
"She seems like a good friend."
"She is," I said, facing forward again.
"Does she know? About the prenup, I mean?" he asked gently.
"Preston, like I said yesterday, you're the only person I've ever told about that." I sighed and stopped outside my bedroom door, motioning with my hand. I didn't want to spend time in my and my husband's bedroom with another man. It didn't seem right – it felt cheap and wrong. But it also felt exciting and, for that, I decided not to go in. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," I said quietly, and then left him to do his private investigating.
In the kitchen, I continued to clean what was left from our lunch and then, for the second day in a row, decided to indulge in a drink. Not feeling like putting in too much effort, I simply grabbed some orange juice from the refrigerator and poured some in a glass, then added a generous portion of vodka. I sat down on one of the barstools that lined the long side of the island and listened for sounds of Preston rummaging through my marriage.
I couldn't imagine what he thought he would find in our bedroom that I might not have seen, might not have caught on to. He wouldn't find any evidence of a loving relationship; that was for sure. There would be no sexy underwear in the hamper, no rumpled sheets on the bed. No, I imagined from his perspective he would see a very sterile room and pity my husband for having such a frigid wife.
I was halfway through my drink when I heard him come back into the kitchen.
"I think I'm about through here. Sorry for the intrusion."
I got the feeling he was referring to more than just interrupting lunch.
"It's no problem. Find what you were looking for?"
"Not sure yet," he said, seriously, his eyes locked on to mine. I simply couldn't handle his eyes on me, not when they were full of words that I felt he wanted to say but held back. No, it was time to say goodbye to Preston Reid.
"Sam isn't back yet, but I'll be sure to get you the money soon. I could drop it by the office later today if that's more convenient for you."
"No, don't take it to the office. I'll be in contact. I'm not worried about the money."
"All right," I said. "Let me walk you to the door." I stood and made my way past him, leading him back into the foyer. I reached for the door handle but stopped when I heard his voice again.
"Was staying with him this long, suffering through what seems like a loveless marriage, really worth the money you're fighting for now?"
I stared at him, trying not to let my face give away the array of emotions his question sent spinning around in my head.
"I didn't realize, until just recently, I was in a loveless marriage." I looked him straight in the eye, my face expressionless, steeled to look void of anything. Without removing my eyes from him, I turned the doorknob and opened the door. He obviously took my silence as the only farewell he would be getting and he walked through.
I tried not to notice that even though he had plenty of room, he passed so close to me that I felt his shoulder brush me again. I also tried to ignore what his scent did to me, as well as the jolt that zipped through me when my body touched his.
Chapter Seven
The next night, I laid in bed and listened for Derrek to return. Preston hadn't said whether Derrek had gone to Bend alone. I wasn't even sure he knew, but I had spent over a day imagining the happy couple enjoying a short weekend getaway. Perhaps he'd taken his youngest to her first skiing lesson, watching her wobble and fall in the soft snow, her nose turning pink from the cold.
I had always told Derrek I wanted children, and he'd always gone to great lengths to convince me that we had time. He wanted to focus on his job and he needed me to help him with that aspect of our life. I wasn't, by any means, past my prime, and still had a few good baby-making years left in me. But knowing he'd started a family with someone else, that he'd taken my ability to start a family hostage, left my heart pumping in an empty chest. I was angry, but more so, I was hurt.
I'd always imagined having a few babies. I'd daydreamed about holding the warm bundles in my arms, snuggling them, kissing them, but now I was left with nothing. Well, nothing besides a cheating husband who planned to keep me around for a reason only God could understand. That wasn't true either – he kept me around so he didn't lose his precious money.
My eyes widened as a new thought occurred to me. Did the other woman know about me? I wanted to believe that she didn't, that she couldn't. I hoped she was just as blind to his transgressions as I had been. I didn't want to think one woman could do that to another. At this point, the sisterhood was the only thing in which I had any faith left.
I heard the door open and I stopped breathing, as the sound of my breaths was interfering with my ability to hear the faint sounds of him entering the house. I listened as he closed the door and then I heard some rustling, which I figured was him setting his things down. When I heard his footsteps head down the hall toward his office, I let out my breath quietly. My lungs were burning and my heart was pounding. I took in a few gulping breaths to try to let my lungs relax, and then, before I knew what I was doing and could stop myself, I pulled the covers back and walked down the stairs toward Derrek.
When I made it to the doorway, I stalled, still unwillingly captivated by how handsome he was. He was standing behind his desk, pulling the tie loose from around his neck. He was wearing gray suit pants with a shiny black belt, a white button up shirt that looked wrinkled, as if he'd been wearing it for a while, and the tie he was pulling from his neck was black as well.
"You're home," I said softly. I hadn't intended to speak to him. Hell, I hadn't intended to walk down here at all. But I was also acutely aware that I wasn't fully in control of my mind, body, or mouth at the moment.
"It would seem so," he said, without meeting my eyes.
"Where did you go?"
"Out of town on business." His words were cold, stale, and stone-like. I tried to read into them, tried to figure out whether he was lying and discern if he'd really been away for pleasure. His eyes still weren't meeting mine as he sat down in his chair and put his thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it.