the front door.
His heavier footsteps followed hers. “That’s okay. I think I’ll handle that room on my own.”
She had no idea why he was being so weird about the game room, but she wasn’t going to hang out and question him about it. She needed out. Now. Before she totally lost her shit in front of him.
He walked her to her car and apologized at least three more times, but she barely heard any of it. She wasn’t even sure she took a breath until she turned the corner out of his swanky neighborhood. The radio, which was still on the talk station, chattered in the background as she tried to organize the tangle of emotions rioting through her.
How could she have let this happen?
Her hands were slick with sweat against the wheel, and she wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like. Breathe.
“Tonight we’re talking about the seven-year itch. Is it a myth? An excuse used to justify cheating? We’d love to hear from our listeners out there. 1-888-Doc-Love.” The voice of Dr. Dan Witter, relationship coach and popular radio personality, filtered through her panicked brain like weird background music, poking the ugly things inside her.
She gripped the steering wheel harder and turned onto a side street, her heart still pounding. Cheating.
The word sent her stomach into a tumble.
She hadn’t done anything tonight. She hadn’t cheated.
But … she’d wanted to.
Tears filled her eyes and the street blurred. She pulled over to the side of the road and let that realization overtake her. When had she become this person?
Her marriage was dying a quiet death, and she had no idea how to resuscitate it. She and Seth had kids and a life together. How was she supposed to tell the man she’d fallen in love with and the father of her children that she’d gotten to this point?
She leaned back against the headrest, letting the tears fall, and without allowing herself to think about it too much, she picked up her cell phone and dialed.
Past midnight. Seth should’ve been tired after the balls-to-the-wall shift he’d managed at the restaurant tonight, but the fuel of going into mission mode had his body humming like he’d downed a double shot of espresso. This had to work.
Seth slowed down and parked his car in front of the only store on the street open at this time of night. He’d been here many times for social visits, but never as a customer. The kind of stuff Leila’s younger brother, Jace, stocked at Wicked had always been a bit more advanced than Seth had ever found need for. Plus, buying sex toys and gear from your little brother was way too high on Leila’s eww scale.
But Seth was past awkwardness right now. He needed help. Jace had never made any apologies for his choice of business and didn’t hide his proclivities for the wilder side, so he didn’t imagine Jace would get weird about Seth coming to him. The guy was about as comfortable in his own skin as anyone could be. Well, except when Jace was around his father. That was a whole other story.
Leila had always said that if it weren’t for Jace taking up the mantle of the family fuckup, she would’ve been the one disowned when she’d gotten pregnant at nineteen by the boy with no stitch of pedigree to his name. But apparently Jace had done enough scandalous things to keep Leila off the radar—though no one had ever told Seth what the big thing was that got Jace kicked out of the house for good.
Not that Leila had gone unscathed with her family when she’d gotten together with Seth. When Seth had asked Leila’s father permission to marry his daughter, Bill Austin had called Seth a money-hungry scrub and had accused him of getting Leila pregnant just to get access to her trust fund. The accusation had hit deep.
Seth had already been feeling the pressure of an impending marriage and a baby on the way, knowing the cash from his part-time waiter job and the few gigs his band did would never be enough to support a family. And God knows his own family wouldn’t be able to help. His dad did well enough with his plumbing job, but he knew his parents were only a paycheck or two ahead of being broke. The only reason Seth had even been able to go to the fancy art college and rub shoulders with the likes of rich girls like Leila was because his mom was the dean’s secretary.
So Seth had done the only thing he could think of to politely give her father a big “fuck you.” He’d dropped out of his music program and his band, switched to a business major, and had gotten a better-paying job cooking full time at the restaurant. He’d also told Bill Austin to sign the entirety of Leila’s trust fund over to their unborn child for when he or she turned twenty-one. Seth would support Leila and his child on his own.
The move had earned a bit of her father’s respect, and her family had even let them live rent-free for five years in one of the houses they owned. But Seth hadn’t missed the raised eyebrow Bill had given him when it’d come time for the family to sell that house. Seth had had to move Leila and the kids to a much smaller place now that he was responsible for the mortgage. Leila had put on a happy face, but he knew it had been hard on her to give up what she was used to simply because he hadn’t hit the big time in his career yet.
She’d told him on the day she married him that she didn’t need that silver spoon, that all she needed was him. That she trusted they would make a happy life together. And he’d spent the last eight years busting his ass trying to prove to her that she hadn’t made the wrong choice.
And though he’d not yet been able to provide her with the kind of life she’d grown up with, they’d eked out a pretty decent living. He brought in enough money to allow Leila to pursue her fledgling design business. He’d even been secretly putting away cash to accumulate a down payment on the kind of house Leila really wanted. If he could just secure a promotion, the house of her dreams would be theirs.
But now Seth wondered if what he’d done had been enough. His wife wasn’t happy. He was miserable. Maybe Leila had finally realized that she’d gotten a bum deal when she’d walked away from her lavish lifestyle just for the chance to be with him.
No. He wouldn’t go down that path yet. That line of thought led nowhere good.
He cut off the engine and climbed out of the car, determined to execute his plan. When faced with a problem, usually the simplest solution was the right one. His father, Mr. Pragmatic, had hammered that into him as a kid. There was no reason Seth needed to start imagining the lack of sexual heat in his marriage was anything more than the fact that he and Leila had both gotten complacent and routine.
If anyone knew how to fix that kind of situation, it would be Jace Austin. So Seth walked into Wicked, not even pausing to admire all the beautiful erotic photography gracing the walls of the bottom level, and headed straight up the stairs where he knew he’d find his brother-in-law.
The second floor of the building was where the actual store was located. Rows and rows of carefully chosen items to cater to almost any sexual taste. High-end lingerie, vibrators, plugs, jewelry, and a BDSM section that was so extensive Seth would need a manual to identify half the items. Looking at the inventory, it was no secret where Jace’s kink preferences fell.
Seth looked to the far corner of the store where Jace’s office was located and headed that way. He knocked on the closed door, suddenly wondering if he should’ve called first.
“Door’s unlocked,” Jace called.
Seth pushed open the door to find his brother-in-law with his feet propped up on the desk and a notepad and pen in hand. The radio was squawking out of the computer speakers as Jace wrote something down. When he was done with his note, he glanced up, registering surprise at first then breaking into a smile. “Well, hey there, bro-in-law. Not who I expected to be darkening my doorway.”
“I’m sorry, if you’re expecting someone …”
Jace rocked