October 2013
I slammed the car door and hurried up the pathway. I was late. About a good fifteen minutes. Part of me wasn’t sure Wes was going to be able to make it. As usual, he was held up at the office. We were supposed to meet the contractor working on our house. Wes kept reassuring me that things were progressing, but I was skeptical. I swear, every time it felt like we were taking two steps forward we ended up taking four steps back.
Coming here was the last thing I wanted. Like the little bitch she was, Auntie Flo had arrived this morning. She was never a welcome guest and especially not this time. Seeing red on the toilet paper was like a giant fuck-you from my body, saying, Oh, hey, about that baby…It isn’t happening. Better luck next month!
I had to admit, though, that in the past few months, the house had really progressed. It had taken on the appearance of a European-style home, with bay windows flanking the front door and a portico supported by two white columns. The exterior was covered in a light gray stucco.
A worker was laying the bricks down for the front sidewalk. The double front doors were open. A few workers walked in and out carrying supplies. Sounds of drills and hammers traveled behind them and into the open air.
I scanned the area, looking for the head contractor. Wes said his name was Sinclair Montgomery. Over breakfast Wes had told me, “He’s a nice man. I think you’ll like him.”
“Doubtful,” I’d replied.
Even though I had no clue who I was looking for, it didn’t take a genius to figure out which one was Sinclair.
A tall man stood next to the front door, deep in discussion with a construction worker. He was dressed in black slacks and white dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up, revealing tan forearms. Stitched on the right side of his shirt, in block letters, was MONTGOMERY CONSTRUCTION.
His hair was coal black, cut short on the sides and styled on top. His skin was the color of honey. He was tall—even taller than Wes. I imagined I would come up to his chest. And such a big chest at that, muscled and well defined enough to make his biceps strain against his shirt.
The man standing there was the last thing I expected. He didn’t look like he built houses for a living. He looked like he graced the world with his mouthwatering smile and had scores of women dropping at his feet. He didn’t have to work for anything because everything was given to him by a single crook of his finger.
I cleared my throat loudly and stepped forward. His head snapped in my direction. “Are you Mr. Montgomery?”
“Call me Sinclair.” He held out a large hand, rough and calloused. A hand that swallowed mine whole. If he tightened his grip even a little he could have easily crushed every bone in my hand.
Regardless of my judgments, my manners kicked in. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I was—”
“No worries. You’re fine.” He looked behind me. “Believe me, you’re not late. I’ve had clients who have been almost two hours late. Now that’s late.” He peered over my shoulder. “Is your husband coming?”
“He’ll be here soon. I’ll catch him up to speed.”
Sinclair took a step back and gestured to the giant monstrosity looming above us. “Do you see an improvement?”
“Improvement is an understatement. It looks practically done.”
“Not quite. But we’re definitely getting there.”
“How about we take a look around? I’m sure you’ve done this multiple times already, but at least now we can go through a detailed list of what’s been done and what still needs to be done.”
We stepped through the doors and entered a construction zone. Drywall was up. It didn’t seem like any progress had happened since the last time. The wrought-iron banister was being installed. We were so close to being done. “It looks amazing.”
We went from room to room. Sinclair went through a detailed list of everything and the longer he talked, the more I found myself staring at him. All of my frustrations that I carried with me into the house seemed to fall off my shoulders. He had a natural way of speaking that instantly put me at ease. When I asked a question, he looked at me. Not through me. Directly at me.
We stepped into what I referred to as the baby’s room. I made a direct beeline to the window. Brand-new windows had just been installed. With my arms crossed I peered into my backyard. I smiled. The yard was beautiful, looking more and more like the perfect haven I’d always dreamed of. I wished I could take credit for it, but it was Renee’s hard work. Along the fence was landscaping, with a few flowers planted here and there.
“It’s a pretty view.”
I turned and saw Sinclair leaning against the door. It sounded like he was referring to the garden but his eyes were on me. My heart quickened but I didn’t look away like I probably should have. Instead, I held his gaze. There was a faint stirring in me. Warning bells went off in my head.
I gave him a brief smile and returned my attention to the backyard. “My big plans for the backyard are finally starting to take shape.”
He came up beside me. “What are your ‘big plans’?”
I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, staring thoughtfully out the window. And told him everything. All the decisions that I normally kept to myself, I revealed to him. By the time I was done talking, I was slightly out of breath, shocked at how easily and willingly I’d spoken.
Sinclair whistled. “You have it all planned out.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sinclair staring at me. Heat rose to my cheeks and I tried to pretend that it was nothing. “The house is going to be beautiful, but this garden? This garden is going to be beautiful. No offense.”
He smiled. “None taken.”
Silence circled around us. Sinclair didn’t move from my side. He gazed out the window. “You know,” he said slowly, “I didn’t peg you for a garden-type person.”
“What did you peg me as?”
“A pool person.”
My eyes widened and my body shifted, just a small bit, in his direction. “A pool person?”
He nodded and continued to stare outside, knowing full well that he had my attention. “The ritzy person who wants an immaculate yard and an inground pool with a grotto. They’ll spend all this money, but they’ll never use it.”
I nodded. “Ah, I understand.”
He looked skeptical. “Do you really?”
Leaning in slightly, I said, “The person you just described is my mom.”
He laughed and I just smiled.
“Have you lived in Falls Church long?” he asked.
“Born and raised here.” I glanced at him. “You?”
“I moved here two years ago. I grew up in a small town. Farmville, Virginia.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Well, you might be the only person that’s heard of it. My parents still live there.”
“You left them all alone?” I teased lightly.
“Don’t feel bad for them. Two of my siblings live around the area. And then I have a sister who lives in Falls Church…actually, she’s your gardener.”
“Renee?” My eyes widened, but my mind was running, putting Sinclair and Renee next to each other and seeing if there were any similarities. Now that I was looking closely at Sinclair, I could see it: the olive skin, coal-black hair. High cheekbones.
Sinclair simply nodded and a hint of a smirk played at his lips.
“She never mentioned it.”
“Renee isn’t exactly the most talkative person.”
“I gathered that. At first I thought I was annoying her.”
“Oh, believe me, if you were annoying her, she’d let you know. Renee comes off as aloof, but as you get to know her she’ll come out of her shell.”
“Good to know.”
Was it wrong of me to want this conversation to never end? Probably.
Out of the corner of my eye, I snuck another glance at him. Sinclair caught me red-handed. He smirked, and two parentheses appeared at the corners of his mouth.
My heart started to thump like crazy and I had to remind myself that I had a husband. Husband. Another man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. A man whom fate and the world had led me toward.
So why was I reacting this way?
“Did you start without me?”
The sound of Wes’s voice made me jump. My head whipped to the left as Wes stepped into the room. He was dressed in a black suit. His navy striped tie was loosened. He draped an arm around me and gave me a quick kiss on my head and shook Sinclair’s hand. Even though there was a healthy distance between Sinclair and me, Wes’s eyes narrowed.
“I thought you had a case to work on.”
Wes waved his hand in the air. “I left early. Couldn’t let you tour the house by yourself.” He gave me a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. Wes directed his attention to Sinclair. “How is everything?”
“Just fine. We were just finishing up the tour.”
“I was telling him my plans for the garden,” I said quickly.
“She loves that damn garden.” Wes’s abrupt words were scathing, almost cold, completely taking me by surprise. Where was this coming from?
“It sounds like it’s going to be stunning,” Sinclair replied. The friendly smile stayed on his face but I saw his eyes dart between Wes and me.
“So, Sinclair, how long do you think it will be until we move in?” Wes asked.
Sinclair’s brows furrowed in concentration. “If you want the honest truth: about another month.”
“Another month?” Wes asked curtly.
I gave him a look, but he ignored me.
Sinclair rubbed his bottom lip, staring between the backyard and me. “If you want, I can have my men working overtime to get it done faster. Maybe a few weeks?”
“And we’re still on budget?” Wes snapped.
Sinclair crossed his arms and smiled. “Still on budget,” he said smoothly. But the friendliness was gone from his eyes. Wes stiffened beside me. There was a beat of awkward silence. Wes cleared his throat and glanced down at his watch.
“I think we should be going.”
“Right. Right.” Sinclair swept his hand toward the door. “Sorry for holding you up.”
We had nothing planned for that night. Nowhere to go. I had no clue why Wes was so anxious to leave.
We walked down the stairs with Sinclair behind us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood and I knew he was staring at me.
Sinclair followed us out the front door and stopped at my car. Before I got in, he held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Donovan.”
Manners dictated that I shake his hand. But I was hesitant; Wes was watching me too closely.
Finally, I took his hand and the minute I did, I felt a zing that hit me straight in the heart. “Likewise, Mr. Montgomery,” I managed to say.
Once again he shook my hand. Those butterflies that I had when I first saw him swarmed in my stomach, begging to take flight. I shoved all unwanted feelings down as much as I could.
“Please, call me Sinclair.”
I nodded. “Sinclair it is.”
He held on to my hand longer than necessary. Long enough to make Wes stare between the two of us with suspicion. I would be the biggest liar if I told you my heart didn’t speed up. Quickly, I snatched my hand away and opened up the driver’s-side door. Wes caught it with his hand.
“I’m driving.”
“But your car—”
“I’ll pick it up later.”
There was a deadness in his eyes. As if all the emotions and life had been snuffed out of him. He was angry and the last thing I wanted was to get into another fight with him. People were all around us and I’d rather fight in private than in public.
I got in on the passenger side. The door slammed behind me, the sound ricocheting. Wes stared straight ahead, saying nothing.
He started the car. For a few blocks there was silence. No radio. No conversation. I went to roll down the window, just to hear the wind rush by. Anything.
But he locked my window.
We stopped at a red light and Wes finally turned toward me. “What the hell was that back there?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you met Sinclair before?”
“What?” I frowned. “No.”
Wes laughed darkly. It sent chills up and down my spine. “Don’t lie.”
“I haven’t!”
The light turned green. Wes took off, his foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor. The engine revved. I glanced at the speedometer. He was up to 55.
“Are you cheating on me with him?”
My jaw dropped. What in the hell was he talking about? “No!”
I looked at the speedometer. He was at 65. I feared he was going to do something really stupid.
“Liar.”
I gripped my seatbelt with both hands. “I’m not! That’s the first time I’ve ever met him.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Wes turned his eyes on me. “You know how he was looking at you.”
“Wes,” I said very carefully. “Eyes on the road.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” he screamed.
He was not rational or in control. I had no idea what was running through his head. I just knew that in this state of mind he was capable of anything. Up ahead was a bridge. I could see us driving straight off it.
Self-preservation made me react. I swallowed loudly and touched his arm. In my sweetest voice I said, “I love only you, Wes. So slow down. Okay?”
He clenched his jaw and I thought he was going to keep ignoring me. But then, out of nowhere, he pressed the brake pedal. The tires squealed. I jerked forward, my face inches from the dashboard before my seatbelt jerked me back.
I panted heavily and looked around. A car behind us honked and drove around us. I wanted to get out, flag the car, and ask the driver—a random stranger—to help me. At this point it felt safer.
Wes laughed. A loud, genuine laugh, as if my reaction was hilarious. I stared at him in disbelief.
And then his laughter faded and he smiled as if I was the most important person in his life. “You want to get something to eat? I’m starving.”
I blinked at him rapidly. How could he go from zero to sixty and then right back to zero?
“What just happened?”
“What are you talking about?”
I hooked a thumb behind me. “Back there. The accusations. The cheating.”
“You mean a conversation? That’s what you’re talking about?”
That wasn’t a conversation. That was mere seconds away before a murder-suicide. How he didn’t recognize that was beyond me.
My emotions were reeling. One second I was defending myself. The next I saw my life flash before my eyes. And then…nothing. My heart continued to pound at a rapid pace, showing no signs of slowing down. It was as though Wes’s stunt had left it in a permanent state of fear.
“So? How ’bout it?”
Slowly, I turned toward Wes. “What?”
“Dinner?”
I swallowed loudly and looked out the window. “Dinner sounds great.”
I wasn’t hungry, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
Wes did a U-turn and headed back into town. I couldn’t stop shaking.
He reached across the console, his hand curved around my kneecap. He gave me the same smile that had made me fall for him.
“I love you,” he said.
I think he believed what he said. I think he thought this was love.
At a red light, he shifted in his seat to look at me. “But don’t play games with me, Victoria.” His other hand curved around my jaw. When the pad of his thumb brushed against my cheek I shivered. He moved even closer so our lips were practically touching. His next words were soft but deadly. “You’ll lose every time.”
Then he kissed me. And I let him because my heart refused to believe that I could be married to a monster.