The Mistress in the Room novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: The Sewing Room

I slid off the counter and walked to the window.

Evan said my name behind me.

I looked straight into the black sedan, at the small red light and the shape of the man holding it.

I did not cover myself, and I did not hide.

I reached up and drew the curtain across the glass.

The headlights swung away, and the engine faded down Linden Road.

"Fran."

"Let him film the curtain," I said.

I turned around.

Evan stood by the island with his shirt open and his chest still rising hard.

"You should think," he said. "Not tonight, not for him."

"I have been thinking for twenty-nine years."

"Fran."

"Witness," I said, and walked back to him, "you said you'd take the job. Is this you taking it?"

He let out a laugh that was nearly a groan.

Then he caught my face in both hands and kissed me again.

This time there was no one to be careful for.

He backed me against the refrigerator, and the magnets on the door scattered and hit the floor.

I got my hands under his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

I heard him hiss when it dragged over the bruise.

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

I kissed the bruise.

I kissed down his chest and felt the muscle jump under my mouth.

He had a hard, broad body, a working man's, with a scar over the ribs.

I wanted to put my face in the gray hair on his chest.

"Not in the bedroom," I said into his skin. "Not in that bed."

"Where?"

"My mother's sewing room."

He lifted me again and carried me up the stairs.

He stopped twice to push me against the wall and kiss me until my knees went.

I laughed into his mouth.

The sewing room had a daybed under the window, a cutting table and a lamp with a yellow shade.

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