“I’m not setting a foot in that house while that woman is there.”
“I wasn’t asking, Tara.” I pin her with my gaze. “You’ll come. And you’ll be polite. End of discussion.”
Tara grits her teeth. “Fine.”
I turn to leave when my eyes snag on the bookshelf in the corner. One of the books has been left leaning against the back of the shelf. On the cover, a woman in a white vintage dress is embracing a shirtless, long-haired guy, who seems to be suffering from constipation. I’m pretty sure I saw that exact book on Sienna’s nightstand, right next to another one with a half-naked guy howling at the moon.
“I have a feeling you and my wife will get along beautifully,” I throw over my shoulder.
When I return home, I head directly to my bedroom. A small part of me hopes I’ll find Sienna there
