She’d never been less sure of anything in her life. She was married to Ajax, only to discover she didn’t know him. To have the security of fantasy and her notion of love ripped away from her, when she was bound to him for life.
She really felt like she needed a drink.
Although, since she’d been having unprotected sex with Ajax for a week, maybe she shouldn’t. Oh, jeez, that had to stop. Yes, she wanted children and she knew he did, too, but honestly, she was so messed up at the moment it just wasn’t a very good idea.
Her phone pinged, and she looked down at the new message that was displayed on the screen. “Oh, Ajax, I have to stop by the store. Do you mind?”
He lifted one shoulder. “If it’s an emergency, of course we should go.”
The little show of support made her feel not quite so alone. “It’s not really an emergency—my manager just wants me to check something out, but...I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’m investing in this company, so I need to make sure everything is running well.”
Ouch. “Right. Of course.”
She might not love him, but he was her lover, and she wished they had a little something personal between them. She wasn’t just his lover, either, she was his wife. Lifelong family...acquaintance. Up until the past few weeks she would have called him a friend, but friends knew each other. They only knew each other in the biblical sense. And even then, that was only provided she followed his rules.
There had been a time in her life when she’d imagined that being with Ajax would solve all of her problems. Instead, he’d just introduced her to a whole new set of them she hadn’t even known existed.
* * *
Leah’s Lollies was a pop of color in the middle of the city. The floor was set up like a game board, brightly colored squares leading you down different paths. There was the road to the candy cane forest, which boasted huge candy canes spread around like trees, dusted in crystal. Every sort of mint was there. And then there was chocolate cove, with chocolate sculptures that were rotated out every season, and at least three hundred varieties of chocolate candy.
It was the lightest, frothiest excess Ajax had ever seen. And in some ways, he found it refreshing. He was all too familiar with the dark side of human appetites.
A little sugar seemed harmless in comparison.
As soon as they’d walked in, Leah had scurried to the back to speak to the manager, leaving Ajax standing in the middle of the fruit patch, where all the fruity treats lived. A girl, no older than sixteen, approached, wearing a white-and-red-striped uniform and an overdone smile.
“Welcome to Leah’s. Lolly?” She held up a small lollypop that matched her uniform.
“No.”
She looked a little bit crestfallen. But he wasn’t a candy person. Except when Leah had left him candy. He’d always eaten that because he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings.
Something he’d done constantly since their marriage, he was sure of that.
“Actually,” he said, “No lollypop, but...do you have a red hard candy?”
“Tons. Cinnamon or fruity?”
“Fruity.”
“Over this way.”
Leah’s candy expert helped him pick a bag of small red, round candies. Cherry. They reminded him of her. Of her red lips. The color they’d been the first time he’d kissed her for a reason other than show. The first time he’d kissed them just because he wanted to.
And they reminded him of her bikini. The one she’d worn the first night they’d made love.
Leah appeared a few moments after he’d paid for the candy and stuck the bag in his jacket pocket.
“Did you get bored?” she asked.
“How could anyone get bored in here?”
“I feel the same way,” she said, a dreamy smile on her face. “I think my favorite store is the one in France, though. I’m test-driving a bakery. You should see all the macaroons set out every day. In every color you can possibly imagine. So far they’ve sold out by midday every day.”
Leah’s expression took on a dreamy quality, her enthusiasm obvious. Enviable.
He wondered what it must be like to love something so much. To have so much passion for your work, for anything in life.
He didn’t know. He would never know. The nature of things, of himself, required that he keep too much of himself chained. Passion was very much in chains.
Except when you’re with Leah. Then it’s her in chains.
Chains or a silk scarf. That was passion tugging at its leash, getting close, but not getting free. A dangerous, dangerous game, but one he couldn’t bring himself to give up. And not because of their agreement. Not because they both wanted children.