Chapter Twenty-Three
In retrospect, Ishould have known that it was too easy.
Sure, Landen and I had our moments, but all in all, our relationship was progressing smoothly, albeit more quickly than I anticipated.
After our heart-to-heart in his kitchen that Monday and the subsequent sex, I’d walked into his bathroom to discover a tray full of toiletries, the exact same brands I kept on my counter at home. All full-sized.
A quick glance at the shower had revealed my usual brand of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.
I stopped dead and turned toward Landen, who was leaning on the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his bare chest, wearing nothing but his briefs.
“Seriously?” I asked.
He grinned unrepentantly. “I want you to be comfortable here. At home, so to speak.”
Oh yeah, he was definitely using all the ammunition he had at his disposal.
From that night on, we barely slept apart. I either stayed with him in his house or he stayed at my apartment. As he had done for me, I took the time to pick up some things for him to keep in my bathroom. When he saw the toiletries in the bathroom, he’d grinned and dragged me into the shower with him, where he’d washed me with his favored soap.
They were a blissful few weeks. While we spent a lot of time enjoying each other’s bodies, we also talked, argued, laughed, and sometimes merely sat in silence as we did our own thing. Having him around was never annoying or stifling as I thought it might be. We did our own thing during the workday, but we spent nearly every night together.
The ease in which we slipped into coupledom should have warned me, but I was too happy. Too busy falling in love.
Neither of us said the words, but I had more confidence that Landen’s feelings mirrored my own.
Until one Friday morning. Landen was planning another trip to Oregon. The man embezzling money from his company had been fired and arrested two weeks prior and Landen wanted to handle some restructuring. Upper management was scrambling to fill the vacant position and he wanted to do it in-house and promote people from within the company.
As he showered and packed for his flight, I went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. Though I was already dressed for work, I’d yet to put on make-up and shoes. When my foot hit the bottom step on the stairs, the doorbell rang.
Wondering who would be stopping by before seven a.m., I moved to the door and peeked through the wavy glass. A woman stood on the steps, tall and slender.
I opened the door, more curious than anything else. “Hi, can I help you?”
The woman smiled at me, her expression warm and friendly. Her dark hair was pulled back in a low roll at the base of her skull and her make-up was perfect, not too heavy yet just enough to play up her best features. Like her sparkling hazel eyes. She clasped a leather portfolio to her chest with her other arm.
“Good morning. You must be Chelsea!” She stepped forward and held out her hand.
Taken aback not only by the warmth of her greeting but also by the fact that she knew my name, I took her fingers in mine. Her hand was warm and firm, the kind of handshake I often received from female executives.
“Good morning. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t remember you if we’ve met,” I stated, flustered and off balance. Especially since I was without make-up or my business-like pumps with three-inch heels. The woman would have still been taller than me even in her bare feet, but I felt at a distinct disadvantage and the shoes would have helped somewhat.
The smile faded slightly from her face. “Landen didn’t mention me, did he?”
My stomach tied itself into a hard, ugly knot that made me feel more than a little sick. “I’m afraid not.”
The woman sighed but she looked frustrated more than hurt, which relieved some of the pressure in my abdomen. “That man,” she muttered, shaking her head. “For such an intelligent human being, he can sure as hell be stupid.”
Despite my discomfort, the corner of my mouth curved upward in a reluctant smile. “Well, why don’t you come in and tell me who you are.”
Her responding smile was rueful but did nothing to detract from her striking appearance as she stepped inside the house and shut the door behind her. When I backed up to give her room to enter, my hips nudged the wall. I stopped moving then and waited as she studied me for a long moment.
“Maybe I should let him—”
I shook my head. “Please. Just tell me whatever it is that Landen didn’t mention.” I didn’t think I could remain calm and pleasant with the concrete ball sitting in my gut.
The woman took a deep breath and visibly braced herself. My stomach sank more. “I’m Maris Weber. I’m Landen’s business partner and ex-wife.”
I was suddenly glad to have the wall at my back because my legs felt boneless. “Ex-wife?” I repeated on a whisper.
