“Turner.”

I tenderly touch his arm. He blinks a few times but his eyes stay riveted on the game.

“Hey. What time is it?” he asks tiredly.

“It’s ten-thirty and I thought our bed would be more comfortable than the couch. We can finish watching the game in bed, if you would like?”

His next words take me by surprise, casting a shadow of a doubt over him having an affair.

“Yes, Mrs. Calloway. Our bed is much more comfortable than this couch. I missed waking up and having you cradled in my arms. Every time I look at you, I can’t believe that you’re mine.”

He then reaches up and caresses my check with his hand and of course I lean into it. I have missed his sweet, gentle touch.

“I missed you so much, Turner.”

I reach my hand out for him to take and we head upstairs hand and hand to get ready for bed.

Hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing as I drift to sleep brings images of him doing this exact same thing with someone else. I will be damned if another woman takes what is mine. One thing is for certain. If he is having an affair, I will fucking kill both of them.

************

There is nothing like the feeling of caffeine coursing through my veins after a bad night’s sleep. My mind went off on a tangent last night when we climbed into bed. After Turner said those sweet things to me, he took care of his business in the bathroom and fell right back to sleep the minute his head hit the pillow. He never does that, and I mean, EVER. He has never gone to bed without kissing me goodnight or pulling me close to him. Sure, we have slept without spooning or cuddling, but never like this.

All these tormenting thoughts I had throughout the night had me getting up and taking this damn cigar card back out of his suitcase. As I sit here twirling it between my fingers, I keep wondering to myself if I am just reading something into all this that’s not there. One minute I am thinking there is no fucking way he would do this to me, and the next minute, BAM! I am second-guessing myself.

I hear the shower turn off indicating that Turner is done, so I stuff the card into the pocket of my black silk robe and go pour my husband a cup of coffee. He strolls into the kitchen with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His body is lightly toned and his strong, square jaw has a few days of dark scruff. I could eat him for breakfast, but as I watch him make his way into the kitchen, I banish those thoughts just as quickly as they come because the thought of another woman having her hands all over what has only ever been mine makes me stand there and shake.

“Good morning, Clove.” Graciously he puts his arms around me and kisses me softly on my lips. “You okay sweetheart? You’re shaking.”

A look of concern crosses his face and he furrows his brows. Snapping out of my funk, I muster a smile and lean forward and kiss him back.

“I’m fine, lover boy. I missed seeing you wandering around in just a towel in the morning, so I was admiring my view.”

My words must have an effect on him. I feel him growing hard and thick under the towel as he presses himself into me. Not today, buddy, I think to myself. He glances at the clock on the stove and then back to me.

“Shit. As much as I would love to take you back to bed and make slow, sweet, tortuous love to you, we have to get our asses to the office so you can catch me up on what I missed.”

I remove my hands from his chest as he steps away from me and starts to leave the kitchen. He pauses on the threshold and turns back around. I think he is going to say something to me, but instead he eyes his carryon bag which is sitting right by the door where he left it. Oh fuck. My eyes go wide as he walks over and picks it up.

“Hurry your sexy ass up so we can beat this fucking morning traffic, Clove.”

My mouth gapes wide open as I eyeball him walking right past me and right up the stairs as if everything were normal.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” I mutter under my breath.

My mouth is still hanging open as we make the thirty minute drive to work and Turner acts as if nothing is wrong. I’m angrier than a swarm of bees. I cannot wait to get away from him this morning. I close the door to my office and call the only person who I trust enough to confide in. My brother.

Chapter Three

I do take my job seriously, but today I cannot put a damned thing into perspective as I sit here and go over the e-mail that Turner sent me with details about his conference. Instead, I sit here tapping my pencil on my desk and checking the clock every minute waiting for Turner to let me know he is heading to lunch with a client so I can call my brother. I place my elbows on my desk and rub my temples, trying to alleviate some of the tension. There is a slight knock on my door. I lift my head just as Turner walks in.

“Hey, babe. You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I snap.

“You sure? You seem a little off this morning.”

“I’m sure, babe. You heading out for your lunch meeting?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. If I hadn’t set this meeting up myself, I would think he was lying. He is looking everywhere but at me. Like a good little wife, I stand up and walk around my desk and wrap my arms around his neck. When I reach him, he pulls me into his chest.

“I’ll be back in a few hours or so, okay?”

“Okay. I’m going to keep going over this stuff you sent me and then I need to do some monthly reports, so have a good lunch.”

Turner surprises the shit out of me when he leans down and takes my mouth in a fiery kiss that has my senses on overload. His tongue demands entrance into my mouth and even though I have all these fears inside of me, I cannot help but kiss him back. We both start breathing heavily as our tongues twine together. He pulls my waist even tighter into him and I feel what this kiss is doing him. It’s doing the same to me. I feel the ache starting to stir between my legs.

“Holy fucking shit. Do I have to go to this fucking meeting?” Turner asks as he adjusts himself through his pants.

“Um. Yes, you do, but I will be waiting right here for you when you get back,” I lie. The minute he leaves, I am praying like hell that I can go visit Zack and tell him my suspicions.

“All right, then. We’ll finish this when I get back.” He places a small kiss on my cheek. “Do you want me to bring you something back? A salad or something?”

“I’m good. I can go across the street to the deli in a few. Now go before you’re late.”

I shoo him out of my office and listen to him grumble something about a bossy wife. I chuckle and then shut my door leaning my back up against it. I am proud of myself for the way I handled him. I bring my hand to my lips, softly pressing them, and close my eyes to relish the feel of how good his kisses are. But as hard as I try, I can’t hold back the vision of Turner with someone else. I can’t. My eyes fly open and on wobbly legs I make my way over to my desk to call my brother.

“Hey, sis.” Zack picks up on the first ring.

“Hey. How’s my handsome nephew?”

“He is so perfect, Clove. He’s taken to breastfeeding like a champ and makes the cutest little faces. I just can’t wait to do all that cool ass father and son stuff, you know?”

I am beaming with pride and happiness for my brother as I sit here and listen to him. I hate to tell him my qualms about Turner, but with him being a cop, I know he has the connections to help me find out what the hell is going on.

“So, how was Turner’s trip? Boring as fuck I bet,” he chuckles.

“Whatever, bro. He said it went well. Actually, Turner is the reason why I am calling.”

“What’s going on?”

He must hear the uneasiness in my voice with the sharp way he responds. Taking a deep breath, I lean back in my chair and tell him everything that has happened since my husband has returned home. . . not going into too much detail about the sex, but just enough to let him know that it was different than any other time before.