I was silent as we bundled into his car, and he drove expertly into the light morning traffic. He went cautiously on the road, but he also drove with urgency, and I appreciated that he wasn’t downplaying my worry.
“How far along is she?” August cast me a sideways look.
“Almost five months.” Why the hell did he want to know that?
“That’s good. A miscarriage is more likely in the first trimester.”
And how did he know that? Him voicing my worry didn’t help the situation at all.
“She doesn’t have any complications, right?”
“No, none unless gaining weight is a complication. That’s all she complains about.”
“See? I know you’re thinking the worst, but her being at risk is low. She’s young and healthy.”
Young was right, but I couldn’t guarantee the healthy part. I tried to oversee what she ate. I had our chef prepare healthy meals, but Ford also let me know when she scraped the food off her plate. Plus, there were the parties I hoped to god she didn’t use as an excuse to drink.
I made a noncommittal grunt and tried to prepare myself for whatever I’d find when I arrived home. My muscles tensed when August drove through the security gates and along the driveway to park.
“Thanks for the ride.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “I’d hoped we could talk before I left, but—thanks.”
I didn’t have time to explain about last night being a one-time thing and for him not to expect more. This was one of the reasons I couldn’t have a repeat of last night. I was too busy with Poppy and the baby to engage in an affair with anyone.
If something bad had happened last night while I was in bed, moaning August’s name, I’d never forgive myself.
“Charles, wait!”
August hurried after me, Lucky’s leash in his hand. The dog trotted after him, and together they met me at the front door.
“What are you doing?” I frowned at August as I dug the house key out of my wallet.
“I’m not going to just let you walk in there, not knowing what you’ll find.”
I didn’t have the time to argue with him. I unlocked the door and entered the house. Our boots echoed on the floor as we hurried along the hall. I couldn’t even be worried that the dog’s nails were scratching the floor. Some other time I might have.
Today’s maid, Amy, almost walked into me, carrying a tray with two glasses filled with ice cubes and a bottle of my best merlot.
“Mr. Moore, you startled me.” I grabbed hold of the tray to help her steady its contents.
“Why is nobody answering the phone?” I demanded.
Her face paled. “I…you…Mrs. Moore asked us to unplug the lines.”
Of all the crazy things, why on earth would Poppy ask the maid to do such a thing?
“I’ve been trying to call the house for the past half an hour,” I snapped.
“Charles.” August placed a hand on my shoulder, and it pulled me back from that brink of frustration.
“She said she was entertaining, Mr. Moore, and didn’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Entertaining?”
“Why, hello, Charles.”
I turned toward my wife, who appeared in the hall, dressed in another of her transparent negligees. Her nipples were huge with wet spots over them. Presumably from the man who walked in behind her. Someone I didn’t know. Not Manuel this time.
I should’ve probably been embarrassed that my wife was screwing someone under my nose, but who was I to complain? I’d long since told her she could fuck whomever she pleased. What bothered me was the way that material clung to her ripe breasts and August seeing her this way. Her gaze was fixed not on me but the younger man beside me, and interest flashed in her eyes.
Did August find her attractive? The thought made me nauseous.
“I should go,” August said softly. “Call me if you need anything.”
I could only nod, but as soon as he left, I returned my attention to Poppy.
“I thought something was wrong. I got all those missed calls from you.”
“Nope.” She leaned her head back and let her hair ripple down her shoulders. “I just wanted to ask if you were coming back home last night. Didn’t want to make too much noise if you were here.”
Remembering the maid who still stood awkwardly, her face red from discomfort, I gestured her away. “Thanks, Amy. Mrs. Moore has decided that she doesn’t want that merlot after all.”
The maid sighed in relief and hurried off. As calmly as