Now, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t continue to date Mr. Ordinary, but she’d slow it down a bit on the off chance I was genuine.
The key was in not appearing too eager, so she was a little off-kilter, but to not wait so long she would give up on me.
She remains silent to my reminder I was gunning for her. I try to provoke a reaction and gather information. “Just how is Mr. Ordinary doing?”
“It’s David,” she snaps, then her voice lightens a bit. “And he’s far from ordinary. He’s a surgeon.”
“Wow,” I mutter as I grab a butter knife out of the drying basket beside the sink. I start poking at the stuff inside the pipe. “A real smarty pants.”
“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring, and generous with his time.”
I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.
“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”
I shoot her a side eye-roll and step around her, nodding at the pull-out cabinet that conceals the garbage can. She opens it for me. I lean over, cleaning all the gunk out, which looks like an entire slice of pizza stuffed in there. Ella wrinkles her nose while she watches me.
When it’s empty, I move back around her and squat to hook the pipe back up. “How often are you seeing him?” I ask, deciding to get downright nosy so I can figure out what I’m up against.
“He travels a lot, so we try to see each other when he’s in town,” she hedges.
I look up from the pipe before I put the wrench to it, frowning. “Why does a surgeon travel?”
Maybe he has a secret family somewhere, and he’s totally playing Ella. I hope against hope it’s true as that would make me the stronger contender for sure.
My hopes are dashed with one word. “Robotics.”
I give my attention back to the coupling, torquing the wrench so it tightens the coupling. At the same time, Ella launches into a long-winded, prideful speech about the fact he teaches advanced surgical robotic techniques all over the world.
He sounds like he could walk on water, but I do learn something valuable. He’s not around much.
“You can’t have been on many dates then?” I ponder aloud.
“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “But when he’s gone, he’s making sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for the hell of it, calls me every day and we text all the time. Just earlier this week, he sent a limo to pick me up and take me for a surprise facial and massage at a day spa.”
Fuck. I didn’t think Ella would fall for that crap, but the bigger realization is I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured she knew I thought about her all the time when I was on the road. We were married, and I just presumed… she knew.
God, I’m a fucking shit head.
Pulling the wrench free, I stand again. I turn the water on, flip the switch for the disposal, and see it churning freely.
“What else does he do for you?” I ask after I turn the disposal off and it goes quiet. I turn to face her, just as she’s blinking in surprise.
“Why?” she asks suspiciously.
I shrug, pivoting to the sink to wash my hands, then drying them with a few paper towels. Balling them up, I meet her eyes. “Because… I’m in it. I told you that I want our marriage to work.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and whether I’m bullshitting her. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”
What the fuck does that mean? Have they had sex? I would have bet a million dollars they had not because I know Ella and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.
I can also see by her expression that’s she’s not about to admit or deny a damn thing. Much like I wanted to keep her guessing, she’s doing the same fucking thing to me.
Tossing the wadded paper towels on the counter, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me, so she is flush, not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.
Hard.
Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, her tongue touching mine ever so briefly.
It’s enough for me, so I pull back. “Has he ever done that to you?” I demand.