Finding Home (Bluestone Lakes #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Blair

The kitchen fills with the irresistible scent of sugar, and a smile spreads across my face as the oven timer dings. The aroma envelops me as I open the oven, immersing myself in the baking process. The soft baked goodness, with its perfect golden-brown edges, is my favorite sight. The anticipation of its perfect consistency is almost palpable, and I can’t wait to taste it.

Next to running, baking is one of my favorite hobbies and brings me the most happiness. It’s also the only one I’m allowed to do often. Running, however, is a process of getting out the door and one of the many obstacles I face as a well-known politician’s wife. The constant need for security—a reminder of my responsibilities—is a challenge I have to navigate every time I step out.

Experimenting with new recipes I find online keeps me busy since the days feel so long while he’s in meetings for the better part of his days. Most nights are even longer when he’s taken away for work or sleeps in his office because he needs to be there early in the morning.

But that’s part of the job, right?

Sighing, I place the tray of cookies on top of the stove while these thoughts flood my mind. Resting my hands on the counter next to the sink, I let my head fall. I haven’t seen Theodore since early yesterday morning. The longing for his presence is a constant ache in my heart.

I miss my husband.

Based on our phone call earlier this morning, he plans to be in the office all day, which is why I’m baking his favorite cookies to bring to his office as an excuse to see him.

Even years later, I still find myself trying to adjust to this life since he was elected, despite having lived this lifestyle since I was young. I grew up the daughter of a powerful politician, so it should have been an easy transition. But it’s much more complicated when you’re actually in the spotlight at events. Something I was not used to as a child but have grown used to as a twenty-nine-year-old wife.

My sister, living in an apartment complex down the block from me, helps when I feel like I might go stir-crazy from loneliness.

Today is one of those days.

Unfortunately, Kodi is in meetings all day for her job.

Inhaling the smell of the oatmeal cookies once more, I pause, noticing a piece of dog hair on my sleeve. I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile on my face.

Reginald.

I take a step away from the oven to avoid getting any small piece of corgi hair anywhere near the cookies before brushing any other pieces lingering along the fabric. When Theodore first proposed getting a dog to keep me company, I didn’t love the idea because of our busy work schedule.

While I don’t hold a traditional job, I've earned a substantial income through endorsements and television appearances outside of attending all events with my husband. These appearances typically revolve around sharing insights into my life as the well-known mayor’s wife. It’s enough to bring in extra money and gives me something I like doing. Something to keep me busy, hence being skeptical about bringing a dog into our home.

But that wasn’t the only reason I was against it.

I want a baby and to start a family with the love of my life.

Theodore wasn’t ready for that part of life as his career was just getting started. Because I love him as much as I do, I agreed to the dog because I felt it was the next best thing. Now I have a fluffy corgi that leaves hair on every black article of clothing I have. But has also brought so much joy into my life. I’d take the hair every day of my life knowing I have a mini best friend to spend my days with.

Making my way back to the oven, I remove the cookies from the baking sheet and transfer them to a cooling rack. I lift one up, fumbling it between my fingers while blowing on it to cool it down. Taste testing is the best part, and waiting for them to cool down is impossible when they look this good. My eyes roll the moment the flavor hits my tongue.

Perfection .

The perfect consistency of gooey goodness.

Removing my apron, I brush my black pencil skirt down and make sure there’s no other dog hair lingering. Most people don’t bake in an outfit like this, but since I will be heading into city hall soon, I wanted to ensure I was ready so the cookies are as fresh as they could be.

Grabbing my keys from the counter, the jingle of them sends Reginald running into the kitchen. His mouth is open and somewhat resembles a smile, making me laugh every time he looks at me.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” I squat down to rub the top of his head. “Mommy needs to go see Daddy at work and bring him these cookies.”

His ears perk up at the use of the word.

I give myself a mental facepalm, smiling as I realize what I’ve just done. I accidentally started calling his treats cookies when he was a puppy. Now he gets overly excited when he hears me talk about them.

“Fine. I’ll give you one of your cookies,” I tell him, reaching into the jar on the counter to grab one before I toss it to him. He catches it in the air without missing before running off to his bed, clearly satisfied with his treat.

Standing and righting my skirt, I take the opportunity to grab my handbag and basket of cookies and rush out the door to avoid him barking at me.

Once I reach my car, I take a deep breath because I hate driving in the city due to the never-ending traffic. It doesn’t matter if I’m driving in the middle of the night or middle of the day, it’s always busy.

Come to think of it, I never cared for living in the city, period.

It was never a dream of mine to stay here. I always thought this would be my sister’s life—not mine. I had these visions of living in a small town in a white house with a wrap-around porch, giving way to views of the land in every direction. A vision of a lake on one side and mountains on the other. The best of both worlds in one place to call home.

Having never lived anywhere other than a city, the idea of small-town life was merely a fantasy, a stark contrast to my reality.

When I started dating Theodore in college, I didn’t think he would be into politics like my father. I met him in one of my marketing classes. He wanted to be an accountant, and I wanted to get into advertising. Since my sister and I always had similar goals, she tried to get into business, starting a career with her love for interior design, and I wanted to work with her as her marketing director. But leave it to my dad to invite Theodore over for one family dinner early in the relationship, and his mind changed quickly. He changed his major to political science, a turn of events I never saw coming, and now here we are.

You can say my father is a very persuasive person.

I gave up that dream and the chance to leave San Francisco to live in a small town for Theodore. This is our life now, and while it has its downs, there are plenty of upsides as well.

I have an incredible husband who works hard to be the best mayor he can be, and I’ve made some really good friends through this life. Other wives who are in the same situation as I am where their spouses are busy and taken away for days on end for meetings. We often meet for brunch or early dinners to get out of the house. Most of them have personal drivers and are constantly trying to convince me I should get one too. But I hate the idea of inconveniencing anyone, despite knowing it would be their job . It still feels weird to me.

After a quick ten-minute drive, I find myself standing in front of his secretary’s desk, looking around to see if anyone is here. She’s nowhere to be found. Glancing down at the basket of cookies on my arm, I decide to walk in. If he’s in a meeting, I can always excuse myself.

Once I turn down the hall leading to his office, I notice the door and blinds are shut.

Shit.

I guess he has a meeting in another part of the building.

Peeking down the hall, I still don’t see anyone around before looking back at his door. An idea pops into my head that maybe I’ll leave the cookies on his desk with a Post-it note saying I was here.

I open the door slowly, and I’m immediately taken aback. My feet don’t move as my jaw drops open. Every part of me should want to turn away, but I can’t.

My husband’s bare ass faces me while he has a blonde bent over the chair in the corner of his office. The sound of wet skin slapping together fills the air. Mixed with the sound of this woman crying out his name.

“Oh, Teddy. That’s it. That’s the spot,” she pants.

A gasp escapes my throat, and my basket of cookies falls to the ground with a light thud before my hands cover my mouth in shock .

He stops abruptly, and his head snaps to face me.

“Blair,” he says quickly, frantically trying to pull apart from her while grasping at his pants in an attempt to hide his dick from me. “It’s not what it looks like.”

It’s not what it looks like?

Are you joking right now?

There are so many things I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m sure if I were a stronger woman, I would scream and shout and beat the hell out of this woman. Instead, I straighten my spine like I’ve been programmed to do as the mayor’s wife and fight like hell not to show any emotion toward this situation.

Anger rages through me, but I don’t have the fight in me right now.

Even if I did, how do you find words to say to your husband after seeing him with another woman right in front of your face?

Turning around, I slam his office door and run for the parking garage without saying anything. He doesn’t even deserve a reaction.

It’s not what it looks like.

Once I’m safely in my car, I let my head fall back on the headrest, forcing my breathing to steady and willing my body to relax in the seat. And I wait. I wait for the tears from years spent with this man to fall from my eyes. But they don’t come. Even with every emotion surging through me, they don’t because I’m so angry at giving up so much of my life for a man who can’t even remain faithful.

I can't stay at our home.

I can’t sleep in that bed again.

I pick up the phone and dial the one person who’s always in my corner, praying she’s in between one of her many meetings. She picks up on the first ring.

“Kodi, I need a place to stay.”