I don’t know if I want to.
I’m heading up the stairs to get the kids bathed and in pajamas when there’s a knock at the door. A smile stretches over my face, and I jog back down the stairs.
“Miss me already,” I tease as I swing the door open, but it’s not Jesse on the other side. My shoulders tense.
“Lyn. We gotta talk,” Patrick says, and my defenses shoot up at the tone in his voice. Veiled authority. Mock concern. Manipulation. Then my eyes catch on the person behind him. A woman. She’s beautiful. Maybe in her forties, with short, light brown hair and brown eyes. She gives me a small smile, and something about it makes me nervous.
“Who are you?” I ask her, but Patrick answers.
“That’s what we gotta talk about.”