The Contract (The Contract 1)
I was right.
I was in my office, going through messages, catching up on emails and the files Amy had left for me, when Jenna walked in, shutting the door.
She stood in front of my desk hand on her hip, glaring at me.
“Just say it,” I encouraged her, even though I knew she wanted to scowl at me a while longer.
“You lied to me, you bastard. To all of us.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Katy lied to me.”
I was out of my chair instantly, rounding my desk. “She didn’t want to, Jenna. She hated lying to you—to all of you. This was all me. My fault.”
“I trusted her. I thought she was my friend.”
“She is—at least she wants to be. She misses talking to you.”
Her eyes misted over. “I miss her.”
I leaned back against my desk. “I did this for selfish reasons. She did this to ensure Penny was safe and looked after. If you want to be mad, be mad at me. Forgive her, though.” I grasped the back of my neck. “She’s lost enough already. Don’t take away your friendship.”
She bit her lip, tilting her head, studying me. “That was spoken like a man who is in love with his wife.”
“I do love her. I don’t deserve her, but I love her.” Dropping my arms to my side, I drummed my fingers on the hard wooden surface. “I’m not a man prone to gestures or romance, but I’m trying. For her. I want to be the husband she deserves—the man she’s placed her trust in.”
She kept staring at me.
“Listen, Jenna. I know you want to yell and berate me. That’s fine. I’ll take it. I deserve it. I know I need to earn your trust, and I will. Somehow, I will. Just don’t”—I waved my hand, not sure how to ask—“just don’t punish Katy.”
She tapped her foot. “I like the idea about the cruise ship you had earlier.”
I blinked in confusion over the fast change of subject.
“Ah, good.”
“Maybe we can discuss it more this afternoon.”
“Sure.”
She turned on her heel, pausing at the door. “When I’m ready to talk about the rest, I’ll let you know.”
“All right.”
“Until then, I’m glad you’re back.” She pursed her lips, her hand back on her hip. “I’ve missed your surly ass around here.”
I couldn’t help my laughter. “Thanks. I’ve missed our chats.” I winked since usually she was the one chatting and I was the one listening.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She huffed. “We aren’t friends again.”
“Of course.”
“Not yet, anyway,” she added and left.
I sat back down at my desk.
It was a start. At least she was speaking to me. A little.By Thursday, I felt like I got my groove back. The days were filled with meetings, strategy sessions, and a lot of work. It was much like my time before, although now, I had somewhere I wanted to be at day’s end.
Home with Katy.
I loved arriving home, knowing she would be there. I enjoyed our nights together, sitting, talking, and sharing our day. I craved the feel of her mouth beneath mine, and the way our bodies moved when we came together at the end of the evening—or earlier, as the mood dictated. We used various surfaces in the condo—the kitchen counter, the sofa, even the wall inside the door. My desk in the den was still one of my favorite places to take Katy. Dinner was often an afterthought—I couldn’t get enough of my wife.
Tonight, I stopped and bought flowers for no reason except I wanted to show her I loved her. It was still an odd sensation for me to want to express an unfamiliar emotion like love, but I kept trying. I found Adrian a good sounding board for advice at times.
Entering the condo, I heard voices. I stepped into the main room, stopping when I saw Jenna sitting with Katy at the high counter separating the kitchen. An empty bottle of wine was between them, their glasses half-full. Jenna had left the office around two, and I suspected she’d been here since leaving. I bit back my grin as I strode across the room, handing Katy her flowers, kissing her hard. She beamed, eyes wide with happiness. I knew what it meant, Jenna being here. The silence from her had weighed heavy on Katy’s heart, and it frustrated me I could do nothing to make it better. It was something they had to deal with between them—and the ball was squarely in Jenna’s court.
“Shall I order some Chinese for dinner?” I asked, bending low, stroking her pink cheek. She always flushed when drinking. I liked kissing her skin when it was warm. So, I did—I trailed my lips over her cheek to the edge of her mouth, pressing against her full lips.
“Yes, please. And thank you for the flowers.”
I placed another kiss to her tempting mouth and stood up.