Page 3 of Vintage

When Amery and I first landed in this place, we were caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty—should we stay or should we go? But the locals wrapped us in their warmth and kindness, and before we knew it, this little town felt like home.

Amery is already familiar with my little quirks. If there’s no auction or gallery event on the horizon, I simply can’t turn away a Willow Crest resident who wants to buy my art. Sure, I might give them a sweet deal sometimes, but I’d never say no to a request.

“Y-You know Mrs. Rowan. It’s just business,” I tried to sound convincing, but deep down, I could hear the weakness in my own voice.

Amery is my everything. Even with this gaping hole in my heart, the thought of life without her is unimaginable. It’s always been her, and yet, I can’t quite grasp this yearning for something I can’t define.

Who am I searching for? Honestly, I have no idea.

With a low growl of frustration, I strode over to Amery and wrapped her in a fierce hug, trying to convince myself that this ache is just a fleeting feeling that will fade away.

As I held her, her heavy breaths and heart-wrenching sobs intertwined with my thoughts, reminding me that my love for her is real, and this emotional haze is just a passing storm.

Maybe what we really need is a getaway. Just the two of us.

Chapter Four

Iwasn't planning to be home until later tonight, but I wrapped up work early today because Willow invited me over for dinner. It felt a bit strange this time since she usually doesn't ask me to bring my wife, but yesterday she did.

Her bright smile was inviting, almost like she wanted to show that she’s just a friend to me, despite all the rumors swirling around that are supposedly messing with my relationship with my wife.

Amery doesn’t doubt my loyalty, but I can tell she’s starting to feel the pressure from the gossip. Whether it’s at the market or during the Sunday luncheon hosted by Polly, our town baker, where everyone gathers to chat, even if just for a few minutes, the rumors are everywhere. Those Sundays are especially busy when her cakes and breads are on sale.

As I walked past the gallery leading to the kitchen, I noticed our wedding picture frame on the wall was slightly askew. I smiled at the photo that brings me so much joy, where I’m on my knees, hands tied behind my back, playfully removing her garter with my teeth. That moment was at the reception in the new restaurant opened by her friend, who happily offered to host us. Thanks to Amery's friend, our simple wedding had a fun twist we never would have had otherwise.

“You're early, Mr. Rowan.” The sass in her soft voice made my heart skip a beat, leaving me shivering under its wicked charm.

With a slight smile that was dangerously close to a smirk, I turned to face the most beautiful woman in the universe. Her brows furrowed, and her nose scrunched up. She was clearly upset, but I knew just how to make that anger vanish.

"Were you in the shower?" I traced the tiny droplets rolling down her forehead, gliding over her smooth, milky skin, creating a path from her jawline, where the cutest little double chin peeked out—something she always tried to hide in photos. But honestly, it’s one of the things I adore about her. Not that I wouldn’t worship her body later; I want her to know she’s stunning no matter how she looks.

"Eyes on me, Ro." She commanded, but I couldn’t help but follow the droplet as it made its way down her neck, driving me wild as it disappeared into the dip between her breasts, snugly wrapped in that towel. Fuck, the heat inside me was intense, both thrilling and torturous, especially since my wife was angry, and depending on her mood, things might not move quickly.

"Ro!" She called out, her tone demanding my attention, and I reluctantly shifted my gaze back to her face, equally confused and captivated.

"Yes... Yes, I’m listening." I tried to sound convincing, but she wasn’t buying it, my breathless tone giving me away.

"Why do you sound so interested, considering you’ve got someone else on your mind all day?" she snapped, her face a perfect mix of furyand allure. It was unfair how sexy she looked when she was mad, but I’d let her have that little victory.

I grinned again, leaning against the wall with my legs crossed, tilting my head as I took her in with my gaze. If only I could devour her in every sense or if she could read my mind, those pesky doubts wouldn’t even have a chance to surface in her thoughts.

"Who could that be, Mrs. Rowan?" I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response, but she just scoffed and turned to head into the kitchen.

I followed her anyway because we needed to sort this out. I wasn’t about to let my wife sulk or entertain any thoughts that didn’t belong there.

She slipped on an apron and headed to the fridge for the ingredients. I perched on the island counter while she started getting dinner ready.

Maybe I was overlooking something, but that wasn’t the main issue right now.

"You never answered, you know. Who else could be on my mind if it’s not you, Mrs. Rowan?"

I watched her expression shift from soft to a sharp, feline glare that spoke volumes.

She yanked off her apron in frustration, tossing it across the kitchen and banging the pots on the counter as she grabbed them one by one.

"Do you think if I reacted the same way when you wanted to talk, where our relationship would be?"

She paused, mid-stride, before storming toward me and poking her finger into my chest, her jaw tight.

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