God.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
That was the problem.
I had spent the entire morning trying to convince myself that what happened last night had meant nothing.
It was just Owen in a bathrobe.
My husband.
That was all.
Except it wasn’t.
I had never looked at a man that way before.
Never.
Throughout my life, I’d dated women. I’d been with women. I’d understood attraction when it came to women.
Men had never interested me.
Until Owen.
And perhaps that was what unsettled me the most.
I had seen him countless times before.
I had seen him in the kitchen preparing breakfast. I’d seen him carrying laundry. I’d seen him sitting beside Theo helping with homework. I’d seen him wearing soft-colored shirts and linen clothes around the house.
Owen rarely showed much skin.
He wa
