Tryst

I leave the lagoon area first to find that people are already lounging around the pool area. I smile and wave, going through the motions on autopilot. No one seems suspicious. No one notices the bright-red scratches on my back or the fingernail marks peeking out from the sides of my swim bottoms. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

The room is empty when I arrive, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief. I strip off my abused swimsuit like it’s on fire and turn the water in the shower to scalding hot. I’ve done something dirty, and while I don’t want to wash it away, I have to. I have to be clean for my husband again.

A door opens just as I step under the hot spray. The steam is so thick that I can’t even see the door to the bathroom and Tucker approach the glass shower partition. It’s not until he’s right in front of me that I see his naked frame, staring over my body with those shrewd, knowing eyes.

I look at him through tears, desperately trying to swallow my sobs. He says nothing as he steps closer. Nothing as he runs his thumb up and down the column of my throat. I’ve never felt threatened by my husband, never felt like he could hurt me. But right now, with him looking at me with the calmness of a serial killer, stroking the skin that Ransom had licked and sucked and bit just minutes before, I’ve never been so terrified in his presence.

He knows.

He knows.

He’s always known.

“Tuck . . .” I try to choke out, but it falls on deaf ears. He just keeps touching my kiss-burned skin, his fingers moving down to my shoulders. He moves in even closer and tastes my jaw with the barest brush of his tongue.

“Tuck . . .” I whisper again, begging for him to hear the plea in my voice.

He doesn’t.

I’m spi

He spreads me, revealing that puckered hole that was once unsullied. Tears stream down my face as my husband sees the proof of my indiscretion. As he bears witness to my filth and indignity.

I release a full sob when his tongue meets that ravaged skin. Not because he’s hurting me—it actually feels amazing despite my debilitating guilt—but because I know I’m hurting him. He’s kissing, licking, sucking the very place where Ransom was buried inside me. He’s not only tasting me; he’s tasting him too. And that makes me so utterly disgusted with myself that I can do nothing but press my face against the tile to hide the shame rolling down my face.

I cry against the shower wall, my howls a mix of torment and pure ecstasy. And when I come for the third time in the past hour, I nearly collapse on the floor.

Tucker lifts me into his arms and carries me out. He wraps a towel around my dripping wet body, all the while leaving his own naked frame cold and dripping. When I am securely tucked into the bed, he goes into the bathroom to towel off.

I turn on my side and curl into myself, trying to sift through the endless stream of doubt ru

I’m so preoccupied with my own selfishness and deceit that I don’t even notice the pile dumped beside the door. And once I do, I know that worrying is futile. Agonizing over the inevitable is wasted. It’s over. It’s all over.

My husband is perfect in every way. Kind, generous, and considerate. So considerate, that he brought in my towel and the paperback book that I had forgotten at the lagoon. The towel and the paperback that I don’t remember seeing when I left.

Chapter Twenty-seven

I make up an excuse to leave the room, telling Tucker that I need to discuss a new press release for Oasis with Justice, and I throw on a cotton dress and slip into flat sandals. I don’t even bother drying my hair or doing my makeup. I just comb out the snags and smack on some mascara and lip gloss and race out of our shared space, far away from the truth that we now both know.

When I make it to Justice’s guesthouse, he’s already in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face screwed in a scowl.

“You just can’t leave well enough alone,” he says, closing the door behind us. We’re alone, thank God. And while I’m sure there are no secrets between him and Ally, I couldn’t stand for her to see me like this.

“Justice . . . Justice, I think I made a big mistake.”

“You think! You didn’t make a mistake, Heidi. You fucked up. I told you to stay away from him; I told you it was a mistake to bring him into your marriage, but you took it a step further, didn’t you?”

I frown. Wait a minute . . . why is he so pissed? And what could he know about my fuck ups? He wasn’t even present for last night’s debauchery. Has Ransom been confiding in Justice?

Seeing the confusion flash across my face, Justice rolls his eyes and says, “I have surveillance cameras everywhere. It’s in the contracts. You think I would have a business this provocative and not have camera evidence to cover my ass? Come on, Heidi. You should know that. You’re slipping.”

I take the insult like a slap in the face. He’s right. I’ve been less than stellar when it comes to my role as a professional.

“You were spying on us? You . . . you saw us?”

“Hell no. At least not the shit you were doing in my pool. But I saw enough. Dammit. You’ve really fucked it up this time, haven’t you? I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt when I saw you go to his room. But this . . . this is just too obvious.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe what I can plainly see. Tucker knows it. Justice knows it. And soon, everyone else will know it too. I’m a cheater. I’ve cheated on my husband. And even though he helped open the door to it, it was still me who chose to keep this up with Ransom. I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him forever. I knew sooner or later, our eggshell house would crack and shatter under our feet. And now . . . now it has.

“He knows,” I manage to whisper to Justice, who just stares at me in disappointment. Tucker isn’t the only person I’ve let down. Justice went out on a limb for me. He welcomed us into his home, counseled us, gave us an outlet to explore ourselves, and I still managed to do the one thing he requested I not do.

“I know he does. I saw him. He came to me . . . wanting to try again. Willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy because he loves you.”

I don’t even bother to dash away the tears in my eyes. The secret’s out. I’m a screwup. No need to pretend now. “What do I do, Justice? What am I going to do now? I can’t lose Tucker. He’s my whole life and I love him. But Ransom . . . oh my God. What if he thinks we’re together? What if he tells someone? Shit! What if he confronts Tuck?”

Justice takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly, a move he uses to calm himself. Ally’s been insisting on him joining the morning yoga classes. “Look. Go back to your room. Spend the rest of the day with your husband. Order up food, watch TV. Let this situation simmer for now. Then tomorrow night, we’re going back down to the playground—at Tucker’s request. I’d advise against it, but then it’d raise too many questions—questions you don’t want me to answer honestly. But after that, you’re going to break things off with Ransom—personally and professionally. Then you’re going to send him back to New York. Alone. We’ll figure out the rest once he’s gone.”