Torrid Affair(78)

“Whoa.” I held my hand up to stop her. “I’m concerned. That’s all.”

“Yeah, sure you are.”

“What’s with the backhanded comments?”

Delaney sighed, her facial features softened, and she sat back on the couch. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I think I just need a vacation.” She shifted on the couch and sat on her foot. “Do you think maybe you can take some time off? We can get away.” She looked over at Caleb who had tuned us out, and then back over at me. “Just the two of us.”

“Sure.” I nodded.

This was where things always seemed to be complicated. I was in love with my brother’s wife, who also happened to once be best friends with my wife. Any man would love a child-free vacation that consisted of sex whenever the mood arose. But going away with Delaney meant a week away from Brielle.

Brielle said we should keep our lives the same. She didn’t want me to change the way I was with Delaney. There was only one way to solve this problem.

I’d be inviting Julian and Brielle on vacation with us.



The following morning, I strolled the long hallway of City Hall until I found Julian’s office. I worked on the opposite side of the building with the town’s Architectural Department; Julian worked for the Department of Social Services.

Tapping on the door, I waited for him to invite me in. “Hey.” I said when he didn’t look my way.

“Oh, Nate,” he said. I stepped further in and sat on the leather chair opposite his desk. “What brings you to this side.”

My eyes scanned the surface of his desk. A dollar bill was rolled up near his hand. “I . . . uh.” I couldn’t pull my gaze from the narrow tube he’d fashioned from the money. He caught my gaze and dragged it inside a drawer. “I wanted to ask what your plans were for the beginning of the year?”

Julian wiped the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “I have no idea what I’ll be doing in six months. Why?”

It was then I paused and took note of my brother. His pupils were dilated, and his tongue ran over his teeth. His fingertips tapped over the papers on his desk. He was jittery. I’d seen this behavior before. Gerald, one of my very first foster parents, carried a rolled up dollar bill with him when he was blowing coke.

I nodded, leaned forward so my elbows were on my knees. “Delaney wants to go away. I figured I’d invite you and Brielle.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.”

I waited a few seconds, gauging his movements. “Is everything okay with you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? Nothing you want to talk to me about?”

“I’m good, Nate. Not everything I do needs to be run by you.”

I stood. There was no need to push it. I knew without a doubt that Julian was using drugs. He had merely replaced one addiction with another.

“I’ll see you later,” I said and walked out of his office. When I rounded the corner I muttered under my breath, “Fuck.”

How the hell could I tell Brielle that I suspected Julian was using?



The following morning, I was walking out of the house when Brielle was walking out of the garage. She was in her work uniform and carrying a traveler’s mug. She stopped when she noticed me.

“Good morning,” I said with a grin.

“Morning.”

“Have a good day at work.” I pulled open my car door. She smiled and climbed into her car.

Brielle pulled out of the driveway first, and I followed behind her. We were around the corner when I called her.

“Hello.”

Pulling up behind her at a traffic light, I noticed she was staring at me through the rearview mirror.

“Hi.”

“We already went over pleasantries,” she said softly.

“What are you doing for lunch?” The light turned green, and I continued to follow her.

“Eating lunch,” she retorted

“Can I eat lunch with you?”

“Nate . . . I—I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She stopped at another light and I pulled up behind her. “Are you following me?”

“No. Maybe. Yes. I will follow you all the way to work until you agree to meet me for lunch. We’re friends, we can have lunch together.”

She sighed. “Fine. Come to the dinner.”

“No.” She glanced up at the mirror, and I smiled. “I know you. If I go to the diner, you’ll wait on me. That’s not what I’m asking for. I want to have lunch with you.”

“What if someone sees us?”

“See what? Me having lunch with my brother’s wife?” “I won’t touch you.” My tongue ran across my lower lip. “Unless you ask me to.”