Page 12 of The Wrong Husband (The Davenports #6)

Of course, Grace would ask that. I look away, “Umm—” I hesitate. “I—I…” I stumble over the words, trying to form them. “I?—”

Her eyes narrow. “Hold on, did you meet someone?”

"What?" I whip my gaze back to hers.

God, they’re fast. I’m only just starting to process what that brooding masterpiece with shoulders who could carry my emotional baggage stirred in me—how alive he made me feel. And already, they’ve clocked it.

With Drew, too, everything moved quickly. I told them early, made them promise to keep it quiet, since he was my boss. I knew they weren’t thrilled—especially Grace.

When he asked to move in, I buried my doubts, pretending everything was fine. But my friends saw through me.

If I’d seen them sooner, they probably would’ve pulled the truth out of me—and maybe, that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.

But I wasn’t ready to admit it. Not to them. Not even to myself. So, I stayed away.

Now, I’ve ended things with Drew but…I'm still not completely rid of him. Ugh.

It seems like every time I go home, he's there, waiting to pick a fight with me, or just try to make me feel guilty for asking him to leave.

If I tell my friends that… I doubt they’d understand… And I get it. I need to get him to leave stat.

Meanwhile, I can’t stop thinking of the man with the ice-blue gaze. I would be insane to even consider a relationship with him. I’m not ready to be involved with anyone else.

I wasn't lying when I told Drew I want to experience the kind of love that I can feel to my marrow. But now that I am on the cusp of an attraction waking up my nerve endings, sending my heart racing, and threatening to turn me inside out—the kind of animal pull I never felt with Drew— I’m scared of how vulnerable it’s making me feel.

I’m definitely not ready to acknowledge it. Let alone, talk about it.

“Just so you know, if you have met someone, that’s okay,” Zoey says gently. “You deserve to be happy.”

“And if you’re thinking it’s too soon?” Harper squeezes my hand. “Don’t.”

Grace’s gaze pins me. “Knowing you, you’re probably blaming yourself for everything with Drew. And if— if —you’ve met someone new, I’m guessing you feel guilty for even thinking about moving on.”

She’s so on point, I suck in a breath. “Wow. Don’t sugarcoat it or anything.”

Grace’s expression softens. “Babe, cut yourself some slack. You don’t get to choose when the right person walks into your life.”

Harper nods. “You know what they say—falling in love never happens at the perfect time. Just the right one.”

Their kindness only makes it worse. My throat burns. I look away, blinking fast.

Grace is right—I am drowning in guilt. Guilt for letting things with Drew drag on when I knew I wasn’t serious. If I’d been honest from the start, we wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

And I haven’t even told my friends he’s still living in my flat.

The idea of moving on so soon feels… Cruel. Cold. Especially when I don’t feel ready. Not for something real. And definitely not with him.

That stranger—the one who rattled me without even trying. I know he’d see straight through me. He’d tear down my walls, force me to be honest. No hiding. No playing small.

It’s exhilarating. And terrifying. So, so terrifying.

“Thanks.” I manage a tight smile. "But I… I’m too busy to start a relationship.”

Grace’s forehead furrows. She’s about to comment when the woman behind the counter walks over to us and places a tray of various desserts on the table.

Finally, a distraction!

"These look amazing," Harper breathes.

“This one’s a lemon slice with a crunchy base and an icing which has spikes of saffron and lemon zest.” The woman points to one of the desserts. "Try it.”

Harper and I each reach for a slice.

“Cheers.” She raises the cake in my direction. I mirror her action.

We bite into our pastries in unison.

It’s light and fluffy, and not too sweet, at all. It’s so good.

Harper moans. So do I.

The woman laughs. "That’s my version of a lemon tart."

"It’s so good." I finish off the rest and lick my fingertips.

"I call it Zest Friends." The woman nods and smiles at the crumbs on my plate which, by the way, I'm seriously considering devouring. “I’m so happy you enjoyed it.”

A shiver runs up my spine. Goosebumps pepper my forearms. A feeling like I’m being watched, once more, assails me. I glance around the warm, cozy bakery and dismiss it. Just my imagination, working overtime again.

"Skylar, meet Phoenix. Phoenix, Skylar." Zoey introduces us.

I shake Skylar’s hand and smile. "Is this your place?"

She nods, her smile broadening.

"It’s amazing."

"I’m glad you could join us." Skylar drops into a chair. "The girls kept telling me you were coming to try the sweets. I'm so glad you could finally make it.”

"Me too.” I smile back.

"You work in the ER over at Archway Hospital, don’t you?"

"Guilty," I say lightly.

I don’t like talking about my job. Not because I don’t like what I do, but the opposite. I’m dedicated to my job. When I’m there, I give it one hundred percent. I dissociate from the world for the hours I’m there.

Which is why, when thoughts of the devil with sapphire eyes distracted me at work, I was taken aback.

I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the cakes and pastries on the tray in front of me.

"Skylar’s baking skills are unrivaled. Within six months of opening the first branch of the coffee shop in the East End, she opened this one," Harper enthuses.

"Help yourself." Skylar pushes a square-shaped, chocolate-topped concoction in my direction. "I’m trying out a few new recipes."

I reach for the treat. It looks like a brownie but when I bite into it, something gooey and filled with caramel and cherry and an overlay of mint explodes on my tongue.

"Oh my God," I exclaim with my mouth full, so it comes out as ‘Aw-mah-ghod!' I chew, swallow. Take another bite. Don’t stop until I’ve consumed the entire slab. My mouth, my stomach and everything in between feels like it’s going to explode with happiness.

"Pretty sure I’m presenting with rapid-onset cardio-excitability. "

Skylar laughs. "Glad you like it."

"I love it." I look at the woman with new eyes. Anyone who can bake like that is truly a domestic goddess. Especially since, I’m rubbish when it comes to cooking. Sadly, my skills as a doctor don’t seem to stretch to interpreting recipes.

"I think I’ll call this one Heart Stopper ," she says with a smug smile.

Harper laughs. "That’s so apt."

"I do love the names of your other desserts, too." I noticed a C!itasaurus, a Honey Pot, a Moist Goodness, and a Sweet Bits in the display cases.

She chuckles. "I wanted to differentiate my offerings. And since I love reading spicy romance novels, I couldn’t resist."

I’m so taken in by her joie de vivre. Her spirit. The happiness flowing off her in waves. I’d give anything to feel that way again.

I did feel that way again, briefly, when the stranger with bedroom eyes and the body made for sin, touched me in the ER.

It made me feel young and giddy, and foolish again.

It made me want to straddle him and feel that thickness in his crotch rub up against my core.

Made me want to rub my cheek against the whiskers on his and feel the pinpricks of pleasure pinch at my nerve endings.

Made me want to rub up against his chest and feel that unforgiving wall of his muscles digging into my softness.

I have no doubt, he would have made me feel small and delicate and protected. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything other than sad inside. And guilty. I’ve spent so long berating myself. Not allowing myself to feel anything other than self-reproach. I forgot how it felt to…feel.

It took that life-sized dopamine surge wrapped in muscle to blast through that numbness. He awakened desires I never thought I’d experience again.

Zoey turns to Skylar. "And how’s that husband of yours?"

Skylar’s features light up. "Nathan’s doing great." Her voice softens, and her eyes gleam. Clearly, she’s in love with her husband. Very much in love, based on the dreamy expression crossing her face. "We’re hoping to go away on holiday soon."

"Another honeymoon?" Harper sighs. "That’s so romantic."

Grace rolls her eyes. "You’ve been averaging a honeymoon a month.”

"Just because you don’t believe in love, doesn’t mean others feel the same way," Zoey points out.

"It’s not that I don’t believe in love… I’m just—" She shrugs. "Okay, I’m a cynic. I don’t believe in Happily Ever Afters."

“And yet, you’re part of a spicy book club, where HEAs are guaranteed.” Harper snickers.

“I’m in it for the 'happy endings.’” Zoey makes air quotes.

We chuckle.

“No wonder, you keep suggesting we read the spicier romances with BDSM themes.” Grace wags her eyebrows.

“Exactly.” Zoey slaps the table. “Give me lust over love, anytime.”

"If not HEA, then what do you believe in?” After all, I briefly thought I’d gotten my HEA, and then, it turned out, I didn’t… So, I’m halfway to agreeing with her.

"I believe in transactions”—she thinks before continuing—“and mutually beneficial arrangements."

"Which is how my marriage started out, but then we fell in love.

" Skylar lifts her hands. "He was very persuasive.

And I was willing to be persuaded. I was willing to do anything to save my business.

" She glances around. "I never expected to fall for him. It didn’t hurt that he was the CEO of a Davenport Group company.

Nathan had that entire powerful-man-in-a-suit, boss-in-charge-who-knows-what-he-wants thing going for him, and hey, I found it irresistible. "

I stiffen. "Did you say Davenport?"

Skylar tilts her head. "That’s my husband’s surname. And the name of the group of companies he and his brothers run."

"Hmm." I drum my fingers on the table.

Is it another coincidence that the dangerously high dose of testosterone in human form shares the same surname as Skylar’s husband?

This can’t be an accident. I should ask Skylar if she knows of a Connor Davenport.

But before I can open my mouth, the bell over the entrance to the bakery jingles. And almost as if thinking of the man from this morning has conjured him up, those wide shoulders I’ve been thinking about fill the doorway.