Page 7 of Infidelity Rules

I wake the next morning feeling rather sleepy and very confused.

I cannot believe my day yesterday — two men!

I’ve had a dry spell for so long and suddenly I’m overwhelmed.

Hands down I would choose Marcus over Zack all else being equal, but I just cannot get back into the dating pool for real.

I would love a fling with Marcus but he’s single and I fear it would get serious fast. On my end, anyway.

At least with Zack, the likelihood of him leaving his wife for me is almost nil. That only happens in movies.

So, I guess it’s a good thing I’m meeting up with Zack this morning. And probably an even better thing that I don’t know when, or if for that matter, I’m seeing Marcus again, so I have time to think. I may need to call an emergency gal’s night with Dezi.

I skip my workout as I’m crunched for time and slowly tackle my morning.

Shower. Blow-dry. Makeup. I keep thinking about Marcus and that kiss .

And his warm, gentle tongue sending electric shocks like pinballs throughout every inch of my body.

His rough cheek against mine. His whiskey scent.

Those long, muscular arms around me. And his blue, blue eyes.

Stop Quinn. Just stop.

I need to remember that I did have a lovely afternoon with Zack. He fed me waffles for god’s sake. He lives close but not too close, he’s in the wine business and he’s married. By all accounts, he’s perfect for me.

I get dressed in my favorite, soft snug jeans and a simple white button-down shirt. I add a gauzy, green and yellow spring scarf and tall brown boots and I’m ready to roll.

I wonder if Zack thinks sex is on the menu this morning?

Normally it would be, but I’m not sure I can dive into bed with him with Marcus on my mind.

Although maybe that’s a good way to get Marcus off my mind?

No, Quinn. Absolutely not. Don’t make this more complicated than it already is. You hate complicated, remember?

.....

Zack is already seated when I arrive at the coffee shop.

Like a typical philandering husband, he’s chosen a table in the back, away from any windows.

Unless his wife is actually in town with him, which would make this whole thing stupid and risky, it’s probably overkill.

But, I do appreciate that he’s trying to keep the drama to a minimum.

And, I suppose if he has friends in town and he’s keeping mum about this, then he doesn’t want to be seen by anyone who knows him.

I’m thinking too hard about this. His wife and friends are his problem, not mine.

“Good morning,” he says, standing up to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I ordered a pot of coffee to get us started.”

I don’t know the man well at all, but I can already tell he’s a bit more subdued than yesterday. I’m wondering if he’s having second thoughts about all this.

“You okay?” I ask. I sit across from him and look directly at him. He’s fiddling with his wedding ring again. “You know,” I say, placing my hand gently over his. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this.”

Zack smiles at me and says, “Why is that? Do you now have the hots for that guy, Tim? Did he show up at your restaurant and make you an offer you can’t refuse?” Zack leans across the table and motions me closer. “Did he feed you waffles?” he whispers.

I laugh and roll my eyes. The guy has a sense of humor, I’ll give him that.

We part as the waitress stops by to bring our coffee and drop off menus.

“Seriously though,” I say. “I get that you’re married and you may be having doubts.”

Zack nods. “I’m not. I’ve been thinking about an affair for years, so this isn’t anything new. It’s just that my wife called on my way here, so I’m feeling guilty about lying. I’ve never done this before.”

I hope he doesn’t continue as I don’t want to hear anymore.

I don’t need to know the ins and outs of why my married men stray.

Normally, they reveal their reasons throughout the lifespan of the affair, but it’s not anything I need to be privy to, especially in the beginning.

I just need to know that Zack does not have young children at home.

“Shall we stay and order?” I ask, gently trying to change the subject and give him an out if he’d like to leave.

“Absolutely. Waffles with extra syrup.” He grins at me, patting the space in the booth beside him. “Come join me.”

I tell him I’m still in sugar overload, so I’ll pass on waffles this morning, but I slide in next to him as we peruse the menu together.

We’re sitting hip to hip, our shoulders and thighs touching.

Although it’s pleasant and Zack is adorable, it’s not that roller-coaster-ride stomach drop I get every time Marcus is near.

But it’s fun with Zack. And easy. So I am going with it, at least for the moment.

We spend the morning eating bagels and lox, chatting and strolling along the Tidal Basin.

I learn that Zack is a born and raised Baltimorean and his family has been in the wine business for decades.

He completed a winemaking internship near my hometown in California wine country and aspires to own a winery someday.

Although he’d love to set up shop in California, the industry in that area is saturated and the land expensive, so he currently has his eye on property in Virginia.

We continue to talk shop a bit and I find myself thoroughly enjoying our morning together. Zack is smart, interesting and loves to laugh. He’s no Marcus, but he’s not a bad kisser, either.

“So,” says Zack, pulling me under a cherry blossom tree and kissing me gently on the mouth. “I’ve told you all about my background. What about you?”

“What would you like to know?” I ask, following him to a bench.

“The usual. Where you’re from, how’d you get into wine, any brothers and sisters, husbands …” he trails off.

I know what he’s after. Why am I interested in a married man?

I don’t like to get into this and, thankfully, men rarely push the issue.

They get so wrapped up in the dueling emotions of guilt versus sheer pleasure, they tend to forget to pursue that all important question — why would I date a married man?

I assume they eventually conclude there’s something special about them.

And while this is certainly true as I don’t date just any married man (remember Tim?), I also don’t divulge that it’s a particular hobby of mine.

“A younger brother, an older sister and no husbands,” I say.

I tell Zack a bit about my brother in Baltimore, my sister who still lives in Sonoma County and my parents who moved to Baltimore after two of their three children did the same.

That was before my sister gave them grandkids, however, so who knows how long they’ll stick around.

I always assumed I’d move back to Northern California, but I fell in love with the East Coast. I do miss California weather at times and the laid-back vibe, but I’m crazy about the four seasons and I love the ability to ditch the car and walk just about everywhere.

And, if I’m honest with myself, California still reminds me of Liam.

And the great big Napa Valley winery wedding that never was.

And how I drank case after case of my wedding wine with Dezi and my brother, Alex, pouring over every inch of our relationship, trying to analyze what went wrong.

When did it go awry? What were the signs before the big pre-wedding dump?

And how could I have loved him with such abandon?

I still don’t have any answers. But I know this—I will never be that vulnerable again.

But I’m not about to divulge any of this to Zack. Too much baggage.

Get your head back in the game, Quinn. This is just a fling. You’re not falling in love.

We make it the full two miles around the Tidal Basin, chatting easily, holding hands and making frequent stops to smooch.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Zack says, smiling at me. “I wish I still had my hotel room available …”

“I’m certainly not taking you home,” I say, smiling at him and placing my hands on his chest. Ooooh, firm.

“I know, I know,” he replies, pulling me to him. “I just wasn’t expecting this. You. I want to see you again.”

Zack is already behind schedule to meet up with his friends, so we exchange numbers and he promises to reach out soon.

Apparently, he travels to D.C. frequently for business, so it shouldn’t be too long before he returns.

I’m tempted to tell him I’ll be in Baltimore tomorrow to see my family, but decide not to push it.

It’s rather soon for him to want me on his turf and besides, I want to enjoy the chase as long as possible.

Assuming, of course, that I can ignore Marcus.