Page 23 of Best Kept Vows

“We love you, too,” Ada remarked gently. “Whatever you decide, we’re with you.”

“Yeah, Mama,” Tristan added. “If you want to keep it copacetic with Grandma and Aunt Coco, we’ll do the same. If you want to cut them loose, that’s fine, too.”

I ended the call as I pulled into the driveway, their words sinking deep into my bones.

I was slowly building something that wasmine. Maybe soon, I would be strong enough not just to cross that bridge but to set it aflame behind me and never look back.

CHAPTER 8

Sebastian

Icame home late after a work dinner where Jane continued to behave strangely, which confounded me.

Get your head out of the sand, Sebastian. She’s hitting on you, and while that’s unprofessional and strange, it's not confusing.

A part of me was flattered. I was human, after all, and Jane was an attractive woman. She was smart and gorgeous, and we got along well. We definitely had chemistry, but then I had chemistry with several of my colleagues, which didn’t mean they wanted to fuck me or I them.

Did I want to fuck Jane?

Maybewantwasn’t the right word. I’d thought about it—sure. I was a red-blooded man, not blind. But thinking about something and actually doing it were two very different things. I’d never cross that line. Not just because I was married—though that should’ve been reason enough—but because I didn’t mix business with that kind of mess. Ididn’t shit where I ate. Too much risk, too much fallout. Nothing good ever came out of office affairs.

Also, I didn’t find Jane attractive the way I did my wife. IwantedLia. I wanted to hold her, care for her, and be held and cared for in return. Jane didn’t evoke anything close to that kind of tenderness.

But tenderness wasn’t precisely what I was feeling when Lia stopped me on my way to our bedroom and said, nonchalantly, that she’d gotten the job—and wanted to talk about it.

What the fuck? Didn’t she just haveoneinterview? What kind of a job did you get with just one interview? A bullshit job, that was it.

“What do you mean you got a job?” My voice sounded sharper than I intended, frustration boiling close to the surface.

Lia stood near the kitchen counter, calm as anything, as though she’d anticipated my reaction. She lifted her chin, eyes flashing defiance. “Exactly what I said, Sebastian. I got the job. It’s an internship at Savannah Lace, and I’m thrilled about it.”

“You’re going to be anintern?” I snapped, incredulous. “You’re forty-four years old, Lia! And you’re, what, going to make coffee? You’re a Boone, for God’s sake—you’remywife. You don’t need to work as an intern.”

She folded her arms and met my gaze without flinching. “Three things. First—no, I won’t be making coffee. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Savannah Lace has a fantastic cafeteria, actually. Beau Bodine’s wife runstheir in-house café, andshe’sthe one who makes the coffee.”

I knew Beau had married quietly—just close friends and family, which had surprised a lot of people considering his brother had gone all out with the big society wedding. But what surprised me more was that he let his wife cook at Savannah Lace. If she were an architect or held a leadership role, that would be one thing. But working a low-level job? That wasn’t considered acceptable in our circles.

“Second, I’ll be an intern for twelve months—working across four departments for three months each to learn a variety of skills,” she continued.

I had to admit that sounded like a damn good internship for a college graduate with no experience—butnot Lia.

Lia is an MBA graduate with no experience, and this is the best job she can get, Sebastian.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Lia?—”

“Third, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you since we live in the same house.”

The way she said that got my hackles up even more. “Live in the same house? Like roommates?”

“I think so. We hardly see each other. You’re never home, and now that I’ll be working, I’ll endeavor to never be home, either.”

I gritted my teeth, tension building inside me, tightening every muscle. “We’re married. I’m your husband, and you need to listen to reason. You know how Savannah works. People talk. Nina Davenport’s reputation?—”

“Is none of our concern,” she cut me off sharply.Her voice was level buthard. “I don’t give a damn what people in your precious Savannah circles say.”

Her words stung, and fury twisted inside me like a live wire. But beneath the anger was a sharper edge—fear. Because the woman standing before me wasn’t the sweet, accommodating wife I’d grown used to. She was nearly unrecognizable—fierce, defiant, the same woman I’d fallen for back at NYU, only…stronger. Tougher. Wiser. And damn it, I admired her for it. Ihatedthat I did. I also resented it—because it was a force I couldn’t control.

“Lia—”

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