Sadie Hunt
isn’t perfect—but her husband is. Nathan Hunt has her coffee waiting every
morning. He holds her hand until the last second. He worships the Manhattan
sidewalk she walks on. Until one day, he just…stops. And Sadie finds herself in
the last place she ever expected to be. Lonely in her marriage.
When rugged and sexy Finn Cohen moves into the apartment
across the hall, he and Sadie share an immediate spark. Finn reveals dreams for
a different life. Sadie wants to save her marriage. Their secrets should keep
them apart, not ignite a blistering affair. But while Sadie’s marriage runs
colder by the day, she and Finn burn hotter.
Her husband doesn’t want her anymore. The man next door
would give up everything to have her.
In his dimly-lit kitchen, Finn lays a comforting hand on my
shoulder. “I have to tell you something.”
My hairline prickles. I can sense whatever he says will be
heavy, and I’m not sure I want to hear it. I force a crooked smile that
probably looks as awkward as I feel. Since I just fed Ginger, I joke, “What? I
smell like dog food?”
“I want to kiss you,” he says without missing a beat. “I
won’t, but I just thought you should know.”
My stomach drops as if I’m in free fall. I bite my lip
involuntarily, then release it, afraid it’ll look like an invitation. Can he
really come out and say that? Without prompting, without wavering? You can want
to kiss someone and not say it. Should I be angry he confessed that? I’m not.
I’m curious. Stirred, even. And because we’re being honest, I ask what I want
to ask. “Why?”
“Why do I want to kiss you? Or why did I tell you?”
My heart rate picks up. I lose my nerve. “The second one.
That’s not the kind of thing you just come out and say to a stranger. A
married stranger.”
“I like you.” He absentmindedly caresses the nape of my neck
with his fingertip. “So I want to be honest.”
I put my hand over his wrist, and he stops. Now, and for the
last hour, it’s as if we’re the only two people on the planet. The Bad Wife and
the Stranger. If I let him kiss me, nobody would ever know. After all, Nathan
might be kissing someone else too. Why else would he have lipstick on his tie?
Finn doesn’t wear lipstick. Neither do I. It would be our secret.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asks.
Am I? I have to. I don’t trust myself to stay, and I don’t
trust myself to speak, so I nod. I don’t have to pull his hand away. He takes
it back willingly. And he walks me to his door.
Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under
the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business
at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City.
To her, the most intriguing fiction is forbidden, and that's what you'll find
in her stories. Currently, she resides wherever her head lands, which is often
the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.
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the Author:
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