Chapter 19
Sideline – to be removed from participation by an unexpected guest
Ismile as I stretch and slowly come awake. I haven’t felt this good in the morning since— I freeze for a moment before forcing myself to evaluate my body. Yep. I’m sore in areas I haven’t been sore in since the last time I had sex. Sex. Holy donuts in the sky – I had sex with Rowan last night.
And it was better than I could have ever imagined. I know sex can feel good. You don’t grow up with my mom without knowing about sex and how good it can make you feel as well as how many types of contraception there are and which ones are the most dependable. But dear chocolate goddesses in the heavens, I did not know sex could feel this good.
I reach behind me for Rowan, but the sheets are cold. I check the clock and notice it’s nearly nine. He must be at the bakery by now. After all, his business doesn’t grind to a halt just because the owner had an amazing night of sex. Hold on. Did Rowan think the sex was amazing, too?
Nope! Stop it, Ash. You are not going to spend the morning evaluating and analyzing every single thing he said and sound he made. You are going to get out of this bed, tame your sex hair – although maybe take a selfie for future reference – and get to work.
I nod to myself before throwing the covers off and marching to the bathroom.
Several hours later, I remove my headphones and switch off my microphone. I can’t believe it. I nearly finished my new assignment today. Granted, the erotica I’m narrating is a novella, but still. I flew through the pages like nobody’s business. Except everyone was getting the business in this story. Every-freaking-one.
Phew. I stand and stretch my back. It’s sore from sitting in the same position for the past – I check the clock – three hours. No wonder my muscles are screaming at me.
Bang! Bang!
I whip my head around at the sound. Is there someone at the door? I grab my phone off the make-up desk in the walk-in closet and notice it’s half past noon. Maybe one of my sisters is stopping by with some grub. Awesome. My stomach rumbles in agreement.
I make my way to the front door and open it. Except it doesn’t open. Is it locked? Since when do people in Winter Falls lock their doors? I roll my eyes. Rowan must think he can keep my sisters from pulling pranks on him by locking the door. Silly man. Doesn’t he know my family better by now?
I unlock the door and unlatch the security cable before opening it. My pleasant greeting gets caught in my throat when I notice who’s standing on the porch. I wish I could say I don’t know who she is, but I’d be lying. Of course, I know who Sandra Hansley is. Rowan’s ex-wife.
“Can I help you?”
She tries to plow past me, but I’m no pushover – walking cast or not. I cross my arms over my chest and block her.
“I asked if I can help you,” I repeat between grit teeth.
There is exactly one person on the entire earth who can ruin my happiness this morning and I’m staring at her. I consider lifting my boot and kicking her off the porch, but I don’t know what Rowan would think of my actions. Does he still love her? The online articles about their divorce were scant on the details.
“Where’s Rowan?”
I cock a brow. “Where’s Rowan?” If she knew anything at all about her ex-husband, she’d know exactly where to find him.
“I didn’t stutter. Answer my question.”
I study the woman standing in front of me. The woman who had everything I ever desired and threw it all away. What kind of fool is she? I can’t deny she’s a gorgeous fool. Her brunette hair frames her face in perfect wisps. She has bright green eyes and a lush mouth.
And the perfection doesn’t stop there. Of course not. Her perfect face tops a perfect body. She’s tall and thin, and I’m sure if she turns around, she won’t have a bubble butt like I do. To complete the comparison I’m obviously losing, her breasts fill out her bra nicely creating a wealth of cleavage whereas I rarely bother to wear a bra at all.
I answer her question with a question of my own. “Why don’t you message him and find out?”
She frowns or at least I assume she’s frowning, her face doesn’t have much expression. How much Botox do you have to inject into your body before you lose the ability to make facial expressions?
“His phone must be switched off.”
I shrug. “Then, call his business.”
Her nose scrunches as if she smells something rotten. “The bakery?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, the bakery.”
“Why would my husband be at the bakery?”
“He’s not your husband,” someone hollers from the front lawn.