She, the Kingdom (She #1)(24)

He offered an apologetic smile. “I’d like to stay, but…”

“See? That’s confusing.”

The muscles in his jaws ticked as he tried not to lash out. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Do you really want to stay?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone unsure. “I want to fix this. I want to behave in a way that ensures your comfort.”

“That is a priority that belongs to your wife, not me.”

“Correct. Which is why I’m leaving.” He sat next to me again, taking my hand into his.

I pulled it away. “That’s confusing, too.”

He grew more frustrated. “So you prefer me not to touch you unless we’re engaged in a session?”

“Correct. And it’s becoming uncomfortable to discuss your wife.”

He frowned. “I think it’s important that she maintain a presence in all of this to keep things in perspective.”

“I know you’re married. You don’t have to remind me. It makes our sessions very uncomfortable.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t handle me. This isn’t an acquisition.”

He chuckled. “No. No, it’s not. Okay, Morgan. I want this to work. If you would prefer I’m more aloof, then I’ll accommodate.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You know your way out.”

“I do. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

I glared at him as he walked to the bedroom door. “That’s not aloof.”

He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “No, but it’s the truth.”





Chapter Eight I woke up Friday morning to an empty bed. The round, white clock on the nightstand read 10:01, and I sat straight up. I felt groggy, like I had a hangover. It hadn’t been since college that I’d slept that long, but then working third shift hadn’t been a thing until now. The new sheets felt so good against my feet, I couldn’t stop rubbing my skin against the fabric—a new habit since the bed had arrived. Max had ordered the bedding, saying it was all from his favorite company. I had never felt anything like it. What had Max said they were? Spun microfiber. I couldn’t imagine sleeping with anything different now. A week into my new job and I was already spoiled.

My tablet began to chirp, so I sat up against my pillows and set it in my lap, smiling as a live picture of Hannah popped up on the screen. “Good morning, baby girl.”

“You’re still in bed?” Hannah asked, her curls bouncing when she tucked her chin.

“I know,” I said, yawning. “Downright lazy, isn’t it?”

“Are you sick?”

“No. Just slept in.”

“What about work?”

“I told you. I work from home now.”

“What kind of work?” Nick asked from somewhere in the back ground.

“None of your business,” I grumbled. I remembered Hannah was watching, and I changed back to a bright smile, winking at her. She grinned. “Where’s Josh?”

“In the car. Dad is taking us to Grandma’s today.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it,” Nick yelled. He sounded in a hurry.

“I’m sure Grandma will have her famous powdered donuts ready for you when you get there.”

“You think so?” Hannah said.

“If she’s knows you’re coming.”

“She knows,” Nick groaned. He rushed by in the background.

“Are you late?” I asked.

Hannah leaned in toward the camera. “He has a lunch date.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, have fun at Grandma’s. Love you.”

Hannah waved to me, and I waited to look as pissed as I felt until the screen went dark. Nick couldn’t afford to pay his child support, but he could afford to go on a date. Nice.

I let my feet hang off the side and rubbed my eyes. What was on the agenda for today? Bills were paid. I’d set up the savings accounts for Josh and Hannah the day before. I was finally free to make whatever plans I wanted, but I couldn’t think of a thing to do. Shopping? No, I wanted to wait for the kids. A movie? Laying by the pool at Amelia’s? Clean the house.

I had just moved to get dressed when the doorbell rang.

I wrapped my robe around me and padded out the bedroom, hooked a left into the hallway, and peeked into Josh’s open door out of habit just before making another left into the living room. I wondered how I would keep Josh and Hannah from knowing Max was there when they got home. Their bedrooms were both across the hall, their doors, just ten feet in opposite directions from mine.

After opening the front door, I frowned. A woman stood on my porch with a red bandana in her hair, her T-shirt sleeves rolled up and over her shoulders, and her tan face pushed back with her wide grin. “Hi. I’m Dawn.” She chuckled when I noticed the bucket full of rags and cleaning supplies in her hand. “I’m your new housekeeper.”

“But… I don’t have a housekeeper.”

“Oh my hell. Did I wake you?”

“No,” I said, clenching the top of my robe in my hand. Answering the door for Max every night in my robe had become so normal, I’d almost forgotten that everyone else wasn’t expecting it. Dawn didn’t seem to mind.