Page 90 of The Affair
“Let’s go with ten in the morning.”
Trying not to meet his gaze for fear I’d crumble under the weight of it, I looked straight ahead, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel it, and it made me imagine his words coming to life.
Him and me alone in that office.
“What if we got caught?”
I caught a glimpse of his grin as he answered. “So, maybe not completely professional then?”
Finally turning to face him, I opened my mouth to answer, but his phone began buzzing, and since we were pulling up to the store, he picked it up. I watched his demeanor quickly change. The happy, laid-back version of Sawyer I was used to was replaced.
Suddenly, there was a version I’d only seen once—when Reed had shown up. His smile vanished, replaced by something hinging on anger.
“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” he instructed.
“Okay,” I answered, knowing this could mean only one thing.
I’d only seen Sawyer get bent out of shape with one recurring topic, and it always happened to be his family. I hoped, someday, he’d open up to me about it, but for now, I hopped out of the truck and headed for the store, allowing him the privacy he needed.
But soon, I knew I’d eventually need answers because a house couldn’t be built with straw, and I was afraid that was what was happening here.
He’d said he trusted me, but did he?
Did he really?
Chapter Ten
Forget what I had said earlier about giving him space.
That had been a horrible idea.
As I paced the worn floor of my family’s antique store, I couldn’t help but wonder what he could possibly be talking about for nearly thirty minutes.
Checking the clock on my phone, I let out a frustrated huff.
Make that thirty-five minutes and counting.
I could barely make out his silhouette in the driver’s seat of his truck, but from the look of it, he wasn’t happy.
Well, that made two of us.
Leave it to the Gallaghers to ruin a perfect morning. The high of shower sex had now been replaced with agitation, nervousness, and boob sweat.
I tried to make myself busy, but in a store where little merchandise was moving, it seemed like there was less and less to do. One could only mop, dust, and rearrange things so many times.
Hopefully, all that would be changing shortly.
Looking out the window once more, I told myself I wasn’t checking on him. I was merely glancing outside for potential customers.
But as my eyes finally met his, my phone buzzed.
Sawyer: I’m going to run home and change. Be back soon.
No explanation. No elaboration on the forty-minute conversation he’d just had outside my store or why it was necessary to have it in private.
Nothing.
Sending him a quick text back was pointless as I watched his truck pull away.
