Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(36)

I wonder what Henry is doing.

Stop it, I told myself immediately. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing.

But what if he was still at work? If he was, would it be okay to go say hello? It had been three days. That was enough cooling time, right? Surely by now, we could have a conversation without being tempted to do stupid things. And that was all I needed—a conversation. Someone to talk to. Something to take my mind off things. Someone to reassure me I existed outside the realm of all my problems, to lift me out of this pit and make me forget.

Make me feel good. Make me feel beautiful. Make me feel sexy and desirable and feminine and alive.

Without giving myself any more time to think about it, I threw the laundry basket aside, raced downstairs, and put on my coat and boots. Maybe his truck won’t even be there, I thought as I hurried away from the house. The snow was thick beneath my feet. Maybe he’s already home for the night because of the blizzard. Maybe he’s even out with those other friends. It is Saturday night. Not everyone is sitting at home being lonely and miserable. I followed the path toward the winery, but I could see before I got too far that the parking lot was empty, covered in a pristine layer of white.

I stopped walking. My shoulders sagged, and my heart ached. Any hope I had of salvaging this evening was gone.

Or was it?

Turning around, a plan began to take shape in my mind. A wicked, reckless, irresponsible plan.

But I was none of those things. I was a good person. I could always be counted on to make the right decisions. I put others before myself. I was not the sort of person who went around acting on foolish impulses for the wrong reasons. And what I was thinking of doing was very, very foolish—more foolish than eight mimosas at Breakfast with Santa. It was greedy too. And it came with a much greater risk.

But once the idea was in my head, I couldn’t stop myself.





Ten





Henry





When I heard the knock, my gut told me it was her.

For the last three days, I’d been expecting her at the winery with a mixture of dread and anticipation. Each night, I’d come home feeling grateful that she hadn’t shown up and yet still wishing she had. Because even though I knew nothing could happen, I liked being around her. I missed talking to her. I missed her face. I missed the way it felt to do nice things for a woman I was attracted to.

I was trying to do what Lucas had said, give both Sylvia and I some breathing room, but I hadn’t stopped thinking of her for a minute.

My heartbeat quickened as I switched off the television and walked from the couch to the front door, my mind a jumble of questions. If it was Sylvia, what did it mean that she was knocking at my door at nine o’clock on a Saturday night? Did she still want to be just friends? If I invited her in, could I be trusted to keep my hands to myself? It seemed like a bad sign that I wasn’t sure.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. She wore a long wool coat buttoned all the way up, and her legs were bare below the knee. On her feet she wore high heels, the same ones she’d worn on Christmas Eve. Her hair was done like it had been on Christmas Eve too, and she was wearing the perfume—the one I’d told her never to wear around me. Snowflakes clung to her coat and hair.

Right away I assumed she’d been out at a party or something, and jealousy kicked me in the gut. What I wouldn’t give to see her across the room at some function and be able to walk over and introduce myself. Get to know her without so many fucking complications. Tell her she took my breath away and kiss her until she lost hers.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

I realized I had been standing there staring at her, and she was out in the cold. “Oh—sorry. Yes.” I opened the door and stood back as she entered, then shut the door behind her.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Okay.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “You?”

“Terrible.” She started to unbutton her coat.

“Terrible?” I frowned. “Where were you tonight?”

“Home alone. The kids are sleeping at Mack and Frannie’s. My parents are out.”

Confused, I glanced at her high heels. “You were home alone?”

“Yeah. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She finished with the buttons and clutched the coat together at her chest.

My cock twitched. Was she fucking naked under there? “You couldn’t?”

“No. And it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to break the rules.” She opened the coat and let it fall to the floor.

My jaw dropped. She wasn’t naked.

She was wearing the red dress.

“I want to touch you,” she said, her eyes locked on mine. “I want to hear you tell me I’m beautiful. I want you to misbehave.”

“Sylvia,” I said, working very hard to keep my cool. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes.” She began slowly walking backward down the hall.

I followed her like a predator stalking its prey. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not a drop.”

“Are you under the influence of drugs?”

She shook her head.

“Am I dreaming right now?”