Other than when Landon allegedly came into our bedroom to do his job, we aren’t supposed to know who he is. But how the hell does Anthony know him?
Unlike Isabelle, Landon acts as if being recognized is no big deal. He gives a simple nod to the man and joins him, without sparing Isabelle and me a glance.
They chat for a moment. Anthony points to Demek, who shakes Landon’s hand.
The other couples return to whatever they were doing before, no longer interested in the maintenance guy and Anthony.
Isabelle and I do the same. “Any idea how Anthony knows Landon?” she asks under her breath.
I wrap my free arm around her from behind, keeping up the pretense of the Seduce Your Spouse game. “I have no idea,” I say against her ear and kiss her jaw. “But we’ll find out soon enough. Word of advice for next time something like that happens. Don’t stiffen if you’re not supposed to know someone.” I kiss the side of her neck. “Actions like that—no matter how inconspicuous—will get you into trouble if the wrong people notice.”
With each tender kiss, the tension visibly drains from her, and she releases a stuttering sigh.
We finish the pie shell with only a small patch job required and fill it with the ceramic beads. While she starts slicing the leeks for the filling, I carry the pie plate to the ovens at the front of the classroom.
Landon is no longer talking to Anthony. He’s up front with Gabrielle and Michael. “I’ll get on it right away,” he tells them. “I’ll just need to get my tools.”
He turns to leave and spots me with the pie plate in hand. A cocky smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, too slight for anyone to notice but me.
He nods at me. Not in the same way he did a short time ago with Anthony. This is more like the polite nod ofHi, how are you?you give a stranger.
I return the nod and pass Chef Michael the pie plate. He slips it into the oven and tells me to come back for it in fifteen minutes.
I return to the kitchenette and help Isabelle prepare the leeks as much as I can.
We flirt, we joke around, we act like we do most of the time when we’re together—all the while keeping an eye on the other couples. But something feels different this time, between us. I don’t mean different because we had amazing sex before lunch.
Or even that we had amazing sex. Period.
Just different—in a good way.
A sudden urge to kiss her sidles up to me. Any other time I would ignore it. Shove it into a wooden box and throw it out to sea to swim with the fishes.
This time I take full advantage of it.
Call it extra credit.
For the class.
I remove the knife from her hand and lay it on the plastic cutting board.
Her mouth curls to one side. “Is that your way of saying you’ve had enough of slicing leeks for the day?”
“No, it’s my way of saying I want to kiss you again.” Somewhere in the back of my head, a voice reminds me that this isn’t a good idea. I need to look out for my heart, protect it the same way I’m trying to protect Isabelle from herself.
My heart has already been stepped on, disregarded.
I can’t let it happen again.
But I’ve kissed lots of women in the past, and my heart is still whole from the experience, so I ignore the voice. What the heck does it know anyway?
“You’re really taking our being happily married to heart, aren’t you?” she says.
“There’s a reason I’m good at what I do.” I wink at her, and she laughs.
“Are we talking about the job now or your lovemaking skills?”
“Both. Although it would be a lot easier to do either one if my arm wasn’t fucked.”
