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“And how exactly did he die?”

A sigh leaves me. It’s difficult to explain, without offering up a few details first.

“He had a secret life,” I admit.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I say. Earl Wainwright was living a double life for years. It’s why his first wife left him. He paid her a lot of money to keep her mouth shut in the divorce settlement. I had to sign an NDA, once I discovered his dirty little secret. He tried to keep it from me, but of course, I found out.”

“And what the fuck was it?” Impatience fills his tone, and I hate it. I don’t want him angry with me.

I don’t want to give him any reason to leave.

A sigh leaves me and I rest my head on his chest once more, my cheek pressed against his hot skin. “He liked little boys.”

“What?” Spencer stiffens beneath me, and not in the good way.

“Not little. That’s the wrong word choice. He liked them young. Eighteen. Sometimes they were younger, though he always swore he asked before he attempted anything with them. But trust me, he didn’t usually ask.” A sigh leaves me and I shut my eyes. “His first wife found out and was destroyed. Told him he had to change or she wanted a divorce, and he couldn’t change. I mean, he did cheat on her throughout their marriage. I can’t blame her for divorcing him.”

Spencer is quiet for a moment, digesting the information, no doubt. “So he was gay?”

“He didn’t like to call himself that, didn’t appreciate the stigma that was attached to it, which I always thought was silly. But he comes from a different generation, you know? It would be his family’s shame, to realize that he was gay. But it was more than that. He wasn’t interested in a relationship with a man his own age. He didn’t want any sort of steady relationship at all, beyond a fake marriage to a pretty wife who could be his beard. What Earl liked, was hooking up with men who were barely old enough to vote. As many as he could.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” I lift my head, studying Spencer’s face. “When I found out, he told me that he chose me because he knew I had a lot of gay friends. Young gay friends.”

Spence grimaces. “He used you.”

I nod. “And I let him.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I eventually settle my head against his chest again, savoring the quiet, going over my relationship with Earl in my mind. How kind he was. Really, he wasn’t so bad. He had a thing for younger men, but how many guys Earl’s age have a thing for younger women and no one bats an eyelash?

It’s not fair. A total double standard.

“Your mother knew all of this?” Spencer asks out of nowhere.

“No,” I say immediately, “she wouldn’t have paired him with me if she did.”

“You so sure about that?”

I nod, trying to ignore the unease coursing through me. “When she found out, she was horrified. Extremely apologetic.”

“And when did she find out?”

“After Earl died.” I hesitate. “She really did feel bad. She thought she was making a proper match.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Irritation flits through my veins and I try to ignore it. “It’s my fault he died, you know.”

Spencer goes completely still beneath me, and I realize I’ve shocked him. Good. He’s being a little flippant right now.

“Why would you say that?” he asks warily.

“I was the one who paired him with the guy he was with when he…passed.” I sniff, fighting the wave of sadness that wants to overtake me. “I’m responsible for his death.”

TWENTY


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance