Still Into You. Roni Loren

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Still Into You - Roni  Loren

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they were already negotiating for ice cream after dinner.” He tossed the throw pillows onto the bed in a haphazard way he knew probably drove his interior designer wife mad. “Is that a new outfit?”

      She glanced down and smoothed the skirt. “No, I wear this one all the time. I got it on clearance last year, but it’s a size too small. If I breathe too hard, the zipper will bust.”

      He frowned. She wore that all the time? How had he not noticed something that hugged her curves that well? Had it been that long since he’d really checked her out?

      “Nah, you look great. I’m sure Kade Van Whatever-his-name-is will hire you on the spot.”

      “Right, my ass squeezed into Spanx and a too-small skirt is a surefire plan.” She rolled her eyes as she pinned her dark auburn hair into a knot.

      He hated when she did that—talked like her curvy figure was a bad thing. Since she’d had their second child, she’d taken to making those offhanded comments about her weight. And she’d damn near yelled at him the last time he’d tried to leave the lights on during sex. He took a breath, trying to formulate his approach. “Leila, is everything okay?”

      What he really wanted to ask was, Are we okay? But he held back.

      She paused, her mouth thinning for a moment before smiling. “Everything’s fine. I’m just stressed about this appointment tonight. I want to get everything right.”

      Her tone was bright, but there was a clear please-don’t-push look in her eye.

      With a silent sigh of defeat, he stepped past her to get his name badge out of the bathroom. She may not want to talk about it, but something had to give. This was no way for either of them to live. “You have any late appointments tomorrow?”

      “No, but you’re working, right?”

      He tucked the name tag into his pants pocket, a plan taking shape in his head.

      Enough of this tiptoeing around each other bull. Like his mother used to say: Talk doesn’t cook rice. There was no way he was going to stand by and let this distance between them continue to grow. If making Leila talk about it was only going to cause her to shut down more, he needed a different tactic. Something more drastic. “I’m not sure. But don’t make any plans, all right?”

      He walked back into the bedroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bed. She glanced up from fastening the strap on her shoe, surprise flickering over her face before she covered the emotion. “Uh, okay.”

      He smiled, relieved that she wasn’t going to grill him with questions—one benefit of knowing she was distracted by the appointment she was headed to. Feeling a dash of hope for the first time that evening, he walked over and kissed the top of her head. “Good luck with your client. I have no doubt you’ll wow him.”

      “Are you going to be late tonight?” she asked, looking up at him, something akin to resignation underscoring her voice.

      He frowned. He wanted to tell her no, wanted to tell her to wait up for him. But if he was going to execute this new plan, he was going to have to go on an after-work field trip tonight. One that she didn’t need to know about yet. He shifted his gaze away, plucking a lie from the air. “Yeah, it’s going to be a really late night. I have to do inventory after we close. And Rory is looking at me hard for that promotion, so I need to make sure everything is to the letter.”

      She stood. “Well, I have to get up early for an appointment, so I guess I’ll see you some time tomorrow afternoon.”

      “Definitely.”

      Yep, they were going to see each other, all right. Hopefully in a whole new light.

       Chapter Two

      Leila sat in her SUV in the driveway of Kade Vandergriff’s estate, trying to center herself and get her brain into designing mode. This could be the biggest job of her career so far, and she needed to focus on the task at hand—not on the fact that she’d felt like a stranger standing there with Seth in their bedroom tonight.

      She leaned back in her seat, resisting the urge to tap her forehead against the steering wheel.

      It used to be that when her husband came home from work, her heart and body would light up to see him. Like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. But as he spent more and more time at the restaurant and the late nights grew more frequent, she realized that his presence in her day had become less and less … notable.

      Then tonight, the vibe between them had been downright awkward.

      She’d heard the bathroom door shut after she’d come in the shower. Her husband had known what she’d been doing. The old straight-shooting Seth would’ve asked her why she hadn’t waited for him. Would’ve asked her what she was thinking about and if he could help. But he hadn’t even brought it up. Like it didn’t matter that he’d caught his wife getting herself off.

      But in a way, she was glad he hadn’t asked about it.

      Because he wouldn’t like the answers.

      She didn’t like the answers. Didn’t like that when she closed her eyes, she pictured far dirtier things than she and Seth ever did. Pictured someone looking at her with heated need in his eyes instead of the vague interest she got from her husband. Imagined people other than Seth bringing her to that place of abandon.

      The porch light on the main house clicked on, and Leila realized she’d been sitting like a lame duck in the driveway—talk radio blabbing too loud in the background, her brain a million miles away. Great. Way to make a first impression. After hurriedly smoothing her hair, she grabbed the door handle and her bag and climbed out of her SUV.

      The main door opened before she could raise her hand to knock. She plastered on a smile, expecting to be greeted by a maid or something, but Texas’s answer to a Nordic god opened the door instead. The man’s mouth stretched into a warm, welcoming grin. “So do you have my garden fully redesigned by now?”

      Leila nearly choked on her tongue, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of this man. She usually preferred men with dark features like Seth. But whoa. “Huh?”

      He nodded toward the driveway. “Thought you were writing up a landscaping plan out there or something.”

      Her cheeks heated. “Oh, right. Sorry about that. I, uh, had to take a call.”

      “No worries.” He stuck out his hand. “Kade Vandergriff. After all those phone conversations back and forth, it’s good to finally meet you in person, Ms. Carlo.”

      “Oh, Leila, please. So nice to meet you, too. I’m glad I could finally catch you in town.” She shifted her bag to her opposite shoulder and offered her hand. He enveloped her hand between his two palms and seemed to hold on a second too long. Not that she was counting or wondering if her hand was sweaty or anything. Not at all. “Your grounds are really beautiful. I love the fountain and all the garden lighting.”

      He pushed the door open wider and motioned her inside. “Thank you. I’m really happy with how it came out. Now I just need someone to make the inside look as put together because I’m about as good at decorating as I am at knitting.”

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