The Candidate's Affair (10 page)

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Authors: T.A. Foster

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: The Candidate's Affair
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“Dinner is served.” He lit a candle in the center of the table. “I hope you like it.”

“It smells delicious. I’m sure it will be great.” I stabbed a shrimp and blew on it to cool it.

“It only took years of burned shrimp and soggy pasta to get it right.”

I giggled. The wine was strong. Pax said it was something he had imported. I was impressed with his culinary skills. The meal was prepared with just the right amount of seasoning.

“I’m glad you’re spending the night. I like waking up with you.”

“Me too.” I smiled.

“I don’t like sleeping alone.” His voice lowered.

I looked at him. “You won’t tonight.”

“Do you think we should do something to change our situation?” He refilled my glass.

“Change it? What do you mean?”

“I want this, Audrey. I want you.”

My heart raced the same way it did when his hands were on me. “Are you asking me to leave Spencer?”

“I thought that was the direction we were headed.” He stated it matter-of-factly.

“Is it?” I asked. When the affair started, I assumed it would end. Affairs end. But the ending was never clear to me. I couldn’t picture how I would leave Paxton.

“Yes. It is.” He cleared the table, dropping the plates in the sink. “Finish your wine.”

I did as he asked.

He blew out the candle. “Come with me.” He walked out of the kitchen.

I chased him, trying to catch up. He walked through the living room and the hallway. He climbed the stairs. I had never seen the rooms on the second story. The master suite was on the first floor. I took each step after him.

It was dark. I reached the top and I couldn’t see which direction he turned. “Paxton?” I moved slowly, expecting him to answer me. “Pax? Where are you?” I listened for the sound of his breathing. “Really, where are you? I’m going back downstairs.”

I placed a hand on the banister when I felt rough arms circle my waist. His mouth pressed against my ear. “Tell me you love me.” His hand trailed against my throat, squeezing a breast, then sliding along my stomach. “Tell me.”

Seized with fire, I pressed against him, wanting him to take me right there. His teeth sank into the back of my neck, his hands spreading my legs.

“Tell me, Audrey.”

“I love you.” I had never said those words to him before. It was more surreal than the kiss under the magnolia.

He gripped my hips, rocking me against him. He was hard. “Tell me you want to be mine.”

I closed my eyes. It was a test. I didn’t want to fail. His hands shoved my shorts to the floor. “Tell me,” he breathed.

I whispered in the dark, “I want to be yours.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He picked me up and carried me through the hallway, laying me on a bed.

In the darkness, we found each other. Desperate for him, I whimpered and begged until I felt his skin slide against mine. He was urgent and forceful, claiming me. I panted with exhaustion and screamed his name as we collapsed in unison. I drifted off to sleep, Pax still inside me, his weight canvassing my body.

When I awoke, I reached for him but the covers were flat. It was still dark. I rolled on my side, closing my eyes as sleep found my sated body again.

I stretched my arms, my naked body sore and satisfied. I sat forward and looked around the room. It was a standard guest room. I didn’t know why he had taken me here last night, but I picked up his shirt and slipped it over my head. I wandered downstairs, hoping he had made coffee.

I stopped in front of his office. “Good morning,” he mouthed. He was on a call.

I pointed to the kitchen and he smiled. I hoped he had good news about the accusations facing him. What kind of person would make up such garbage? I was glad I was able to keep him distracted. The campaign was getting nastier, and Pax needed someone he could talk to about everything. Someone he could trust. He needed me.

There was creamer and sugar on the counter. I added them to my mug.

I held the mug near my chin. Was he serious last night? Did he want me to leave Spencer? Was I the kind of woman who could leave her husband? If I was the kind who could cheat, maybe I was. Then I thought about the glimmer of hope in this. Maybe all along I was supposed to meet Pax. Maybe I wasn’t a cheater. Maybe this was a true love story, our love story. Then I thought about Spence and closed my eyes. I had a love story with him too.

Paxton’s call lasted thirty minutes. I showered, then dressed and rinsed out my coffee cup. I poked my head in the office. “I’m going to run over and let Pepper out.”

“Ok. But hurry back. I want to spend some time with you this morning.”

“Don’t you have a luncheon with the Daughters of the Revolution?” I asked.

“I do, but it’s not until one. That gives us plenty of time to finish our conversation.”

“Oh.” I hesitated.

“I meant it, Audrey. We’re going to be together. We just have to figure it out. I want a life with you.”

“Pax—” The things I said in the dark weren’t the real me, or were they more me than I knew? Was he the one showing me what I really wanted in my life? I knew I couldn’t make a decision like this so quickly. It wasn’t just my life. It was Spencer’s too.

Last night, I was a different woman and he and I both knew it. I told him I loved him.

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” I left him sorting his emails. I snatched the key from the hook and pulled mine from my bag. It hadn’t made it out of the kitchen. There would be another occasion I could parade around in that vixen number.

I crossed through the bushes in the spot where our backyards connected. On the other side, I saw the blue lights and the police car parked in my driveway.

My first instinct was that something had happened to Mrs. Ellerby, but there was no ambulance and the car was here instead of across the street. It didn’t make sense.

It was as if a virus had taken hold of my body. My legs trembled; my mouth went dry. I felt sudden fever on my cheeks.

I stumbled through my backyard, the entire time hearing Pepper’s bark from inside the house. He was jumping to get out. I walked toward the flashing lights, but there was no one there. I stood next to the car.

“Mrs. Kingston?” An officer walked around from the front of the house. He was holding his hat in his hand.

“Y-yes?” My knees were quaking so badly I had to steady myself on the hood of the car.

“Can we go inside for a minute?” He raked his hair at the top where it was receding.

“S-sure. What’s going on?” I tried to think which route to take. The garage was closed. The front door was locked, and Pepper was howling at the backdoor for freedom.

“Let’s go inside for a minute.” He waited for me to show him the way. “I’ve been knocking on the door awhile. Were you out?”

I nodded. “Yes. I went for a walk.” I punched in the garage code. My nerves couldn’t handle it. I looked down at my flip-flops and flimsy boxer shorts. He wouldn’t believe I walked in this for one second.

I noticed he ran his hand along the hood of my car, and then gave me half a smile.

I opened the door and Pepper pounced on us. He wagged his tail and licked my leg. “Calm down, Pepper. Calm down.”

“He looks like he hasn’t seen you in a while,” the officer commented.

“He’s always like that.” I shooed the dog into the backyard. “Can I get you something to drink, officer?”

“No. I think we should sit.”

The shaking resumed, this time rattling my shoulders. “What is it? What’s happened?” I wished he would spit it out.

“This is always the hardest part of my job, ma’am.” He paused and I thought I would crawl out of my skin. “There is no easy way to deliver this kind of news.” He coughed into his fist. “There was an accident this morning.”

“Oh, God. What kind of accident? Who? Who?”

“It was your husband.” His lips drew together in a thin line.

“Spencer? Where he is? Is he ok?” I frantically searched for my phone, realizing it was charging in Paxton’s kitchen.

The officer shook his head. “I’m sorry. He was killed.”

“Killed?” The word sounded vile.

“I realize this is shocking, but your husband’s car was found on the side of the road, near Tranter’s Creek.”

“Car accident? Spence was in a car accident?” I kept repeating words, trying to string comprehension into something that was unfathomable. The room felt fuzzy. I wrapped a blanket from the back of the couch around me, but the shaking wouldn’t stop.

“It wasn’t just a car accident. He was shot. We believe he died instantly, and the car crashed as a result.”

“Shot? That doesn’t make sense. Tranter’s Creek is just outside of town. This is wrong.” I stood up, tossing the blanket. I shook my head. “No, you have the wrong Spencer. My husband is in Columbia right now. He’s finishing up an acquisition. It’s not him. There’s a mix up.” I felt better. I felt terrible for the other Mrs. Kingston, but the relief was welcome. They had the wrong guy.

Officer Newton stood and shoved his phone in front of me. “Is this your husband?”

It was a copy of Spencer’s driver’s license.

“This picture was taken at the scene. It matches the face of the man in the car. Did your husband drive a silver BMW?”

I nodded. I had to sit. My knees gave and Newton tried to soften my landing.

“I’ll get some water for you. Sit here and try to breathe.” He walked into the kitchen and returned with a cup of tap water. “Take a few sips.” He touched the brim to my lips.

“This can’t be happening. It’s not happening.”

“I know this is terrible timing, but there is a detective on his way. He should be here in a few minutes.”

“Detective?”

“This is a homicide investigation. The driver’s side window was shot several times. It seems that one of the bullets hit Mr. Kingston. Your husband was shot once in the temple. We need to find whoever did this to him.”

I cringed and buried my eyes in the blanket. Not Spencer. Not his beautiful face. His smile. No, God, no.

“Pendleton will be here and he’s going to ask you questions. Ok? Do you think you can answer them?”

“I don’t know.” I was afraid to let go of the blanket.

“It’s a lot. I know. But, Spencer needs you to do this for him.” He said it in the present tense, as if my husband was still alive. As if he was on a business trip and lost his credit card. He just needed me to call in the number to get him out of an embarrassing jam.

I heard the doorbell ring, and Newton walked to the front door.

“She’s in here.” He walked back into the room with a man dressed in a suit. It was dark blue. His shoes brown. I studied his feet.

“Mrs. Kingston, Cam Pendleton. I’m sorry about your husband.”

“Thank you.” Was that the proper response? None of what was happening made sense.

“We are moving quickly on this case at the insistency of your husband’s firm. There is a suspect at-large. The more we know, the quicker we can get this guy in custody. Can you help us?”

“The firm?” I asked.

“What?” Pendleton sat in the chair closest to the couch.

“You said Spence’s firm?”

“I did. They asked that we handle this before it became a press spectacle.”

“Huh. How do they know? Who knows?”

“There was a file in the front seat of the car with the firm’s information on it. We called them to verify the victim’s, I mean your husband’s information. They told us your name.”

“Oh. Ok.” I wondered who had taken that call.

“Have you or your husband received any threats? Suspicious activity at the house? Anything unusual in the last few weeks?”

“No. Nothing.” My words were flat.

“Is there any reason someone would want to hurt your husband?” he asked.

“No. No one.”

“You can take your time. Think for a second. Did Spencer mention anything at work? A coworker? A client maybe? Disgruntled neighbor?”

I looked up too quickly. Pendleton was staring at me. My next breath stabbed at my lungs. Oh my God. I clutched at the blanket. No. No. I was with Paxton all night. No, he would never hurt Spence. No.

“Mrs. Kingston?”

I shook my head. “No, he—uh—he only talked about the acquisition. Said it was going well.”

“And this acquisition, it was with a firm in Columbia?”

“Yes, that’s right. Anderson & Lee, I think, was the name. Last night was a celebration dinner.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Spence said no wives. I stayed here.”

Pendleton continued to scribble notes in his notebook. “I see. And did he mention if it was a hostile takeover. Anything unusual in his conversations to you?”

“No. Not at all. He said everyone was excited. It was going to bring in a lot of business to the firm. It was supposed to be his big coup.” My stomach clenched. We were supposed to celebrate his big success this weekend.

“Ok. Can you think of anything else? It could be a small detail. Anything off at all in the past few weeks?”

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