Chapter 5
Mila
I have no recollection of falling asleep, but I wake among a hot, tangled mess of limbs. Or is that a tangled mess of hot limbs?
After fucking, sleeping, and everything else, with it wet last night, my hair is everywhere. Lifting it from my face, I wipe the drool from the side of my mouth and open one eye. I’m flat on my back, my right leg bent and out to the side. Frankie is on his front to my left, his leg hooked over mine, his face almost buried in my neck. Sammie’s on my right, his head on my belly, his hand between my legs. Neither me nor Frankie have anything covering us. Sammie has just a sheet covering his arse; his legs and torso are bare.
I give myself a mental eyeroll as I realise I’m now calling him Sammie like Frankie does. It’s Sunday morning. I’ve been in his company since Friday evening, and he’s changed my world irrevocably. They both have. No matter what the future brings for me, there’s no hiding from the fact I’m an unfaithful wife who’s not only been fucked by one man, but two at the same time.
My stomach churns at this thought. Not from shame, but from excitement, arousal, want and need. I’ve always known there was something inside me—something that made me different. I wouldn’t describe it as a longing, more of a knowing. I’ve always known I needed more. I knew as a kid I needed more than the life I’d been born into. I didn’t know then how I was going to make that happen—not until I started to notice the boys looking at my long legs. Then I had to work out how I was going to use them to get me the life I wanted to live.
Being the youngest of four kids, whose mum had gone no contact, and whose dad was rarely present, I was left on my own a lot. I spent my time people watching, listening to others’ conversations. By the time I was thirteen, I knew I had the face and body to attract any man in Yira, I just had to make sure I saved it all for the right man. And that man was our town prince, Logan Walsh. I didn’t care that everyone knew he was going to marry Alice O’Leary, our town princess. Her family were the next wealthiest after the Walshes, and legend was, the pair had been inseparable since they were born just two weeks apart. I knew I had my work cut out, but I put my plan into action. I knew my way in and very quickly became the best friend of Ella Walsh, Logan’s younger sister.
Always polite and courteous, I sucked up to Nora—Logan and Ella’s mum—big time, but at the same time, I made sure she was aware of the poverty I was experiencing at home. She’d give me Ella’s hand me down clothes, and even bought me things brand new when she went on shopping trips. I’d be invited to dinner, stayed over most weekends, and even went away on holiday with them. In return, I was a model student at school, top of my class in just about every subject, and because Ella’s dyslexic, I’d spend every night after school patiently helping her with her homework so that Nora Walsh didn’t have to sober up long enough—I also made sure I knew all of the family’s secrets—to help her daughter stay out of the ‘special needs’ class.
It was exhausting, but it meant I was able to constantly remain in Logan’s line of sight, and I took every opportunity handed my way to make sure he noticed me, whether it be wearing the tiniest of bikinis around their pool in summer, or the tightest of jeans when working in the groves at the olive farm in the cooler months. I was funny, I was flirty, I was cute, I was innocent, and when he started asking me for kisses, I turned him down flat.
“You have Alice, and I’m not the kind of girl to do that to another girl.”
I drove him insane for years. So many times I almost waivered, gave in, thinking if I gave him a taste of the goods, it would be easier to reel him in. But I had it on good authority that Alice was still a virgin, and if she wasn’t giving it up, then neither would I.
The year they graduated I took a huge gamble. Alice had confided in Ella that her and Logan were going to share a room at schoolies—the school leavers’ celebrations held up on the Gold Coast—and were finally going to sleep together. Ella obviously came running to me with the gossip, and that’s when I had a decision to make. Did I let nature run its course and let them head off to the Goldie to fuck each other’s brains out, or did I swoop in and claim him first?
I chose option A. Listening in on conversations the way I had, I knew Scott Walsh was happy for his only son to ‘get his rooting done wherever he got lucky’ until he was twenty-one—I had it on good authority Alice wasn’t the only girl in town Logan was getting lucky with—but then he needed to put a ring on the finger of the right girl.
Obviously, everyone assumed that girl would be Alice. So, for two years, I let him bang away at dull little Alice, as well as anyone else he had a mind to. All the while, I shamelessly flirted, leading him on more and more. I planned the day I’d let him have a taste meticulously. I even checked the weather forecast. When the storm rolled in, I made sure to be out in the olive grove. When the white T-shirt I’d purposely chosen to wear that day was thoroughly soaked and clinging to me, I made sure to run to the barn I knew Logan would be in. He’d just turned twenty and had started to take on some of the day-to-day running of the business that would one day be his.
As part of his training for the role, Scott had set him up in a small office in one of the barns and given him paperwork to do. Nothing major. Payroll, HR, ordering, invoicing, and accounting all had their own staff working from a self-contained building next to the ‘big house’, but Scott was and still is a firm believer that everyone should get their hands dirty, and nothing is beneath anyone. So, whether it be chasing unpaid invoices or new business, Logan had to sit behind a desk and make those calls a couple of times a week.
Running into the barn, I stopped at the exact spot I’d worked out Logan would have the best view of from through the glass wall separating his office. Wiping my palms over my face, I pushed the water back into my hairline, then, after examining my soaked tee and rubbing my hands over my breasts, I pulled it off, rung it out, tilted my face up to the ceiling, and dried my neck and cleavage with it.
I heard the chair scrape before I even had my tee pulled over my head, but I made out I didn’t. The rain was hammering down, so it was feasible I wouldn’t hear him. When my eyes finally met his, he was leaning in the doorway to his office. I was standing in the middle of the barn in a white, lace bra, denim cut offs, and my Blue Steel work boots. I stilled, our eyes locked, and a split second later, he was stalking towards me. I let him kiss me. I let him touch my breasts, but as he attempted to unfasten my bra and kiss them, I put a stop to things.
That’s when I told him if he wanted me, he had to get rid of her—Alice. I refused to be the other woman. He spent the next couple of weeks pulling away from her until he finally ended things. She was devasted, I was ecstatic. Two weeks after that, he took me on a date to dinner at a local Italian place that happened to be the best restaurant within miles of our small country town. That night, I played with his cock until he came all over himself but told him there was no way we were having sex. I was virgin and saving myself for marriage. A week later, I rode his face. The weekend after, I blew him but didn’t swallow. Two weeks later, he presented me with the biggest diamond engagement ring I’d ever seen.
That was the night I said yes.
That was the night I swallowed.
That was the night all of my carefully laid plans fell into place.
That was the night Logan Walsh thought all his dreams were coming true.
My eyes have been closedwhile I’ve been reliving the past, but I open them and look down when I feel Sam’s thumb stroking my inner thigh. His head still rests on my lower belly, and he presses gentle kisses against my skin before turning to look up at me.
“You look like a crazy lady,” he croaks through a smile.
“That’s because I am a crazy lady.”
Frankie shifts beside me, and I turn to look at him.
“Morning.” His voice is also raspy with sleep. “You died on your arse again last night, princess.”
“It was a big day,” I tell him on an exhale. “I was mentally drained, then you two physically drained me.”
“Your belly’s making all kinds of strange noises.” Sam completely changes the subject. “Did you eat yesterday?”
“I had some sushi at lunchtime,” I reply with a shrug.
Sam immediately sits up. “That shit won’t keep you going. Let’s get you fed.” He reaches for my hand and starts pulling me from the bed and out from underneath Frankie’s leg.
“So, we’re not fucking again before you go?” Frankie asks.
“No time, I need to eat and leave. I want to check in with Mum before I drive home, and I want to be home before dark because of the roos,” I explain.
Frankie pulls a sad face as Sam leads me out of the room.
After feeding me eggs,Sam drops me back at my apartment, where I shower and wash my hair using the products I have here. I know I’m being extra paranoid, but I don’t trust Logan not to sniff my skin or hair and notice that I smell different.
As soon as I got here, I put everything in my case on a quick wash and then straight into the dryer. Once I’m out of the shower, I leave my hair wet and just pile it on top of my head in a messy bun while I sit in my robe waiting for my clothes to dry.
I didn’t want this quiet time. I’ve downloaded a book to listen to on the way home so I don’t get lost inside my own head, but now, I have at least fifteen minutes of sitting here, thinking about this weekend, my actions, and what the consequences might be if I get caught.
I made no firm plans with Frankie to see him again. It’ll happen when I’m able to make it happen. A lot will depend on how things go when I get home. I’ve rehearsed everything in my head, but what if I fuck up? Just one tiny slip could mean the end of my marriage. What if Logan takes one look at me and just knows?
I slide off the bar stool at the island and go check my reflection in the mirror. Do I look different? Is there guilt reflected in my eyes? There shouldn’t be, because right at this moment, I don’t feel guilty, just nervous.
Instead of driving myself crazy, I go back to the kitchen, pull a couple of boxed cake mixes from the pantry, and set about making a cake to take to Saint McCarten’s while my clothes dry.
With my damphair piled on my head, wearing my favourite, washed and dried, burgundy-coloured Adanola track suit and UGGs, I carry the two sponge cakes into my mum’s care facility. After dropping one off at reception to the care workers, I make my way down to the day room carrying the other.
I almost drop it when I step through the door and see Logan sitting in a chair, holding a mug, chatting away to Mum. Thankfully, I see him before he sees me, and I have a few short seconds to compose myself.
“Hey! This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?” I plaster a beaming smile on my face as I move towards them.
My husband looks up and smiles for all of ten seconds. Taking me in from head to toe, his smile vanishes, and I know I’m in trouble.
Placing the cake down on a side table, I move closer to place a kiss first on my mum’s cheek, then Logan’s. As I lean into him, his hand moves to my hip and grips me so tightly, I know it’s going to leave a bruise.
“What the fuck are you wearing? Why’s your hair wet? UGGs, Mila? Fucking UGGs outside of the house?”
He releases his grip, and I straighten.
“My golf finished early, and as I was close to the city, I thought I’d call in and see your mum. I thought you’d already be heading home,” he says, wearing a fake smile.
Has he been to the apartment, I wonder? Does he know I wasn’t there all night? All weekend? All I knew was that he was playing golf. I didn’t think to ask where. This is the kind of rookie error that’s going to fuck me up.
I pull the chair on the other side of my mum a little closer and sit almost facing him.
“No, I was here most of yesterday and it left me feeling drained. You know I don’t sleep well when I’m on my own, and all of that meant I ended up oversleeping this morning.”
His blue eyes are narrowed on me. “Yet you still had time to bake a cake?”
“I baked two, actually. I made them last night when I couldn’t sleep. I was just going to drop them off here, say a quick hello, then leave.”
I look from him down into my lap. “I didn’t see the point of drying my hair, putting on makeup or wearing anything uncomfortable just to sit in the car for three hours. I’m sorry,” I say quietly, making sure to add a tremble to my voice, just the way he likes it.
“I’ve told you a million and one times, Mila, no matter the circumstances, you step out of the house, you better fucking do it looking the absolute best version of yourself. You’re representing me and the entire Walsh family at all times. We’ll discuss this further once we get home.”
I nod. Ensuring my eyes are shining with my unshed tears, I look up and meet his still narrow-eyed gaze. “I’m sorry,” I whisper before turning and smiling at my mum.
“Hey, Mum. How you doing this morning? I can’t stay long, but I made you your favourite sponge cake and thought I’d drop it off.”
She’s leaning to one side in her wheelchair, her hair still in the single French braid I put it in for her yesterday. Taking the tissue she has clasped in her hand, I use it to wipe the saliva escaping the side of her mouth.
“Jesus, that’s disgusting,” Logan hisses from beside me. My jaw clenches so tightly, I worry I might crack a tooth.
Mum’s eyes look up at me and she smiles. I search for a spark of recognition like the one I saw there yesterday, but there’s none. “Nurse,” I think is what she tries to say.
“No, Mum.” My nose tingles, and real tears burn at my eyes. “It’s me, Mila. I came to see you yesterday, remember? You said my name. I’m your daughter. Your youngest daughter.”
I get nothing. I put her tissue back into her hand, and her eyes return to her lap.
“I don’t know why you bother. There’s nothing in there.”
I remain silent.
“Right, I’m off. I’ll see you at home.” Logan stands beside me. I turn to meet his gaze, only to find it on the arse of the young care worker who’s bending over and doing something to the shoe of another resident.
“See you there. Drive carefully,” I tell him. When he finally turns his attention back to me, I raise my brows to let him know I’m aware he was caught checking out another woman’s arse.
He shrugs and gives a lopsided smirk, which would be cute if I didn’t know what a monster this man who comes from a long line of monsters is.
“Yeah, you too. Don’t stay too long. We have things to discuss,” he says while pointedly looking me up and down.