3 Seconds (Time for Love 6)

Apparently she hadn’t missed me as much as I’d hoped, not if she was that quick to run out on me. She’d just succumbed to the moment, her body wanting me, even if her mind did not.

Feeling worse than I had just days before, I gave her a few seconds’ head start, then stormed out of the building, wishing I never had to darken its halls again.

Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Bronagh

My cheeks were burning as I floated down the hall to my office, barely aware of where I was and what I was doing.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

I’d been on autopilot during class. I read the necessary information to the students, but in my mind I’d been replaying the last time Brendan and I’d had sex.

It started when he walked into class looking scruffy and delicious. I’d been doing my best to ignore him, but Brady’s words had come back to me and had me watching Brendan more closely. His hair was pulled back and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. His mouth was a tight line, and his eyes had looked sad. I didn’t like the fact that I was the reason he was hurting.

He looked good though … really good.

I’d begun to imagine how that scruff would feel between my thighs, and was so immersed in my daydreams that I was shocked to realize the day had come to a close. I was rushing off to my office when he’d grabbed me and pulled me into that closet. Already so turned on, I’d hardly comprehended his words, instead focusing on his lips. On that mouth, and what I wanted it to do with me.

What happened after that was one hundred percent my fault, and I’d been right, his short beard felt amazing.

After I came out of my sexual haze, I’d been mortified that I’d used him that way. Especially after I’d been the one to end things. Talk about mixed messages!

I was so consumed with guilt and mentally berating myself that when I walked into my office, it took a moment for me to recognize the man standing before my desk.

“Chéri,” he said in his familiar soft accent. He looked very much the same … average height and build, with a face so striking it often caused women to gasp. There was a l

ittle more gray above his ears, but of course, that only made him look more distinguished.

“Maxime, what are you doing here?” I asked dumbly, feeling as if I’d walked into an alternate universe, one where my ex-husband was standing in my office, rather in his kitchen in France where he belonged.

He tsked as he took a couple steps toward me.

“Is that any way to greet your husband?”

I grimaced at that, awareness finally dawning.

“Ex-husband,” I corrected, dodging to the left before he could pull me into his embrace.

Maxime waved his hand, as if the divorce was a formality that he didn’t abide by.

“No matter the paperwork, Mon Cher, you will always be my wife.”

Flashbacks started to hit me, and I was pulled back to the many times he’d said those very words. Maxime lived by his own rules, in his own universe, where he was king and got anything and everything he wanted.

“No, Maxime, that’s what divorce is … the end of our marriage. I thought we went over all of this before I left France. And, don’t call me that.”

I suddenly felt the beginnings of a headache.

“I know what divorce is, Bronagh, but I’ll never believe that we are over.”

“Why are you here?” I asked again, rubbing my temples as I tried to mentally go back to my happy place. In the closet, with Brendan.

“I’m sure you have heard about the job I’ve offered,” he said, his words tinted with his French accent. I used to love that sound, but now, it just reminded me of a time when I was hopelessly foolish. “I decided to come down and congratulate the winner myself. The department knew, maybe they wanted it to be a surprise.”

Yay, I thought sarcastically, then felt ugly for being bitchy. Having Maxime offer the job at all was a privilege for the school, but having him come in person was something they would see as an honor. I just didn’t understand why I hadn’t heard of his impending visit.

Maybe I’d been too caught up in my own misery to pay attention to what was happening at school, I thought, chastising myself for not paying attention. I could of saved myself this uncomfortable moment.

“Oh,” I replied, giving him a tense smile. “Well, the students will love that. It was very generous of you to offer a job to a member of the graduating class. Whoever wins will be very luck to train under you.”