A flush heats my chest. I quickly wipe it away, clamping my mouth shut.
Please, please, please, God, erase his memory if he saw that.
I tentatively look back up, sighing in relief when I see him turned away, squatting down to show the twins something with the rope.
He’s so good with kids; it makes my ovaries ache. I guess it makes sense, considering he’s an uncle. It’s so nice to spend time around people who don’t act like my boys are a nuisance. I know they’re rowdy, and I don’t miss the judgmental looks from people in the grocery store when they get a little loud or smack each other over the head with a box of snacks.
I do my best to discipline them, but adjusting to single-mom life after being with an abuser who constantly raised his voice and spanked them, even when I didn’t think it was necessary, has made me wary of being too hard on them.
They’re just kids. I want them to feel the freedom to play and have fun and not be constantly told to be quieter and stop horsing around.
And I have no idea how he’s disciplining them when I’m not there. I try not to think about it because according to the state of Texas, it’s none of my business.
Stop. You’re going to spiral. You cannot spiral right now.
I shake my head and focus on the scene in front of me. Duke’s back is just as sexy as his front, all grooves and dips of golden skin with a few scars I’m sure he got from growing up on this ranch with his wild siblings.
“All right, guys, it’s getting late. We need to head home.”
By some miracle, they actually listen and start walking toward me. Duke stands, slowly winding up the rope as his eyes find mine.
“You going to be okay, driving back? We’ve got plenty of beds here.”
My stomach clenches. I feel myself shaking my head. Staying here is the most idiotic idea I’ve ever heard.
There’s a one hundred percent chance that I would cave if I knew that body was on the other side of the wall and my kids were safely sleeping.
I know he wants me. He’s made it crystal fucking clear that all I have to do is say the word. Apparently, not even having a husband was enough to stop him before.
And I’m fragile right now—way too fragile—and sad and lonely to resist him. I’d be on my knees, unbuckling his belt in point-five seconds flat.
“That’s okay. We’ll be fine,” I manage.
He nods, flashing me that panty-melting smirk he wears often.
“All right, good night then,darlin’.”
ONE YEAR EARLIER
“Please, please just lower your voice. You’re scaring them.” I try to keep my tone even.
I probably shouldn’t use the wordscaringright now or mention the boys. But when Matt gets this way, with his eyes glittering in a way that makes me wonder if it’s him looking back or some demon from the underbelly of the earth, my only instinct is to de-escalate the situation.
“Oh, right, I’m the crazy one. I’m the asshole all of a sudden. You know, if you weren’t such a slut all the time, none of this would be happening. Maybe you should’ve considered this situation being something the boys shouldn’t seebeforeyou invited the landscaper into the house and fucked him.”
I jerk back from him when he snatches my forearm and squeezes it.
“If you weren’t such a shitty mom, you would put them first. You’re a selfish bitch, Dallas. You and I both know it. Maybe I’ll just slam your head against this wall, see if that gets it through to you.”
My hands are trembling. He knows I didn’t fuck the landscaper. At least, I think he knows that. Sometimes, I wonder if his accusations are pure delusion or if he actually believes them.
I tried to remain calm when the guy came to the door and asked if we had any yard work that needed to be done. I knew Matt would see him there on the security camera feed while he was at work. I calmly talked to him, being carefulnot to flirt or be too friendly as I explained to him that we didn’t have any work for him to do.
“Matt, I really need you to hear me. I didn’t invite that guy over here. I didn’t let him in the house. He was just looking for work.”
He shakes his head, squeezing my wrist tighter. “I really wish I could believe you. You’re just too big of a whore for me to actually do that. And it sucks for me because I try to be a good husband, you know? I work all day long, only for my wife to be at home in the house I pay for, fucking strangers in my bed.”
I’ve all but given up on trying to figure out why he thinks that’s what I do while he’s at work. I have two toddlers to take care of, as well as the housecleaning, the laundry, and the small garden out back. I don’t know when I’d even find time to start an affair.