Mistresses: Just One Night. Yvonne Lindsay

once he’d done it that same sort of freeing relief washed over him he experienced every time he signed the papers handing off one of his clubs or turned in the keys to the place he’d been living or put another state line behind him.

      A weight lifting. A bind loosening.

      Maybe one he hadn’t even registered … yet. Eventually he would have though. He always did. And then whatever comfort he’d been taking from whatever it was he’d been trying to hold on to would start to suffocate him like a blanket he couldn’t kick loose.

      That was just the way he was.

      Slanting a glance to Elise walking beside him, he knew it would be the same with her. Yeah, she’d affected him differently than the other women he’d known. Because she was different. In a million ways … so many he hadn’t even begun to figure them all out yet. And that had to be part of it. This crazy pull between them.

      He hadn’t exhausted the challenge. Hadn’t unraveled the mystery.

      Elise was constantly giving him something new to work out. Keeping him on his toes. And putting him on his knees.

      But eventually the challenge or whatever it was that kept him coming back for more would fade, and he’d need to walk away from her—whether there was a convenient excuse like moving out of state to start the next job, or not.

      Which was why, when it was time to leave, he’d go, packaging his goodbye within the neat confines of this temporary affair they were both prepared to have end.

      Until then …

      He reached for Elise, tucking her beneath his arm as they walked. Offering her whatever comfort she’d take from his just being with her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

      BACK stiff and feet aching, Elise untied her black barista apron and tucked it under the pick-up counter. Sagging against the sink with a wan smile, she counted her tips. Thought again about finding a second job that paid better and then reminded herself that the flexibility was the primary reason she worked this one. And really, the tips weren’t that bad. They served food all day and the Dearborn Park patrons were a generous lot, with a good turnover. Besides, it was walking distance from her place. Which meant she wasn’t blowing coin on transportation to work there.

      Definitely a benefit.

      Normally the energy of the popular coffeehouse was enough to get her through a shift, even after working five to two at the athletic club, but today the cacophony of whistling steam, clanking ceramic, and shouted orders had grated from the moment she’d walked through the door.

      The situation at home was deteriorating.

      Ally had mentioned it the week before, but, being a bit of an alarmist, her street credit wasn’t what it could be. Elise figured her sister was making more of a missed call or off day than she should. But when Elise had dropped by with groceries the evening before, she’d been greeted at the front step with a tentative smile and news that it wasn’t a good day. That a visit would be too disrupting and they’d talk on the phone later.

      Of course it wasn’t the first time a bad day had kept them from seeing each other. It was just that Ally had met with a similar response two days before. And when Elise had talked to her mom this morning, all of her questions had been shut down with the most minimal response and her mother had asked her not to come to the house for a few days.

      An anxious knot tightened Elise’s stomach.

      It wasn’t as though her mom weren’t entitled to her space or privacy. It was just that she’d been systematically shutting herself off from the world for nearly six years … and she needed a life. If she wouldn’t even let her daughters in—

      “Elise?”

      Jerking upright, she scanned the crowd of customers. Caught on the man in the twill shirt and khakis, cleaning his glasses on the end of his tie in front of her. Sandy hair, clipped neat. Handsome in a lanky sort of way.

      Oh, God, not now.

      “Eric?”

      Her thumb moved to that touch point at the base of her fourth finger.

      This was the last thing she needed today. He was the last person she wanted to see.

      “I know. Surprise, surprise. I didn’t realize you’d started working here,” he said, taking in the coffee shop with a subtly disapproving stare that gave her the impression he was revisiting the conversation from a lifetime ago when he’d told her to quit working. That, married to him, she wouldn’t need a job.

      What a mistake that would have been.

      “Finally get over the whole yoga thing?”

      She bristled at his easy dismissal of her dream, but then pushed it down, reminding herself that she was already on edge. And Eric hadn’t done anything to put her there. No doubt he was as uncomfortable seeing her as she was him, and was simply struggling for something to say.

      Still, she hadn’t expected to see him.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked, digging deep to find a smile that matched her civil tone.

      At the cheeky toast of his whipped mocha, she nodded, smiling a bit. “In town, I mean.”

      “I told you I’d be back,” he said, eyes trained steadily on hers as if to gauge her reaction. Her remorse maybe. “That it probably wouldn’t be more than a year and a half. Turns out it was less. The transfer went through last week.”

      He must have worked himself to the bone—but he looked good for it.

      “Congratulations, Eric. You earned it.” Finding she truly meant it, she added a sincere, “I’m happy for you.”

      He waited a beat. Stepped closer. “You could have been happy with me, Elise.”

      Then, shaking his head with a wry smile, he asked, “How have you been? How’s your dad—your family?”

      She swallowed, taken aback by the bold statement and the questions in the warm brown eyes that had never truly held her. And she realized he was wrong. She wouldn’t have been happy with him. Not the way people committing to a life together were supposed to be. Their relationship had been nice. Pleasant. Convenient.

      Tepid.

      They’d gotten along.

      Shared interests.

      Enjoyed the other’s company.

      But never had there been even a fraction of the intensity she experienced with Levi. This man had been her friend.

      And the reason his forcing her to choose between moving for his career and staying near her family had been so crushing was that it had felt like a betrayal from someone who should have understood.

      So they’d both made the right decision. Marriage would have been a terrible mistake.

      “I’ve been good, Eric. Busy. I’m trying to open my own studio, so I’m working even more than before, if you can believe it.”

      That chagrined expression said he could.

      Skimming over the details of her parents, she filled Eric in on her family. Primarily, the adventures of Ally pregnant, and the joy of her new nephew Dexter. When she’d finished, she found Eric watching her with something that might have been pity in his eyes.

      Something she didn’t like. Crossing her arms, she took a step back.

      “Sounds like the life we’d always talked about. Only it’s someone else’s.”

      Deflated, she shook her head. “I just want different things these days. A studio of my own. Working toward that goal has taken up most of my time.”

      “Sounds lonely.”

      Lately