Page 52 of Chasing Smoke

I step inside and lock the door behind us.

“Any idea what Sutton is doing home?” He pulls off his boots and hooks his coat on the rack in the entryway.

I shake my head. “None. Had no idea she was coming.”

“Been a while since she’s been back.”

“Sure has. Something’s up.” I set my boots on the mat next to his and take off my coat. “Not sure what, but something sure as hell is. Sutton doesn’t come home for visits without giving us a heads up first.”

He grunts and heads into the kitchen.

I stand still for a second, working it through my head. How will I phrase it? What will I say? What do I do if he reacts badly. Eventually, I work up the courage to follow him, and he’s filling a glass of water.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” There. It’s out there, and I can’t take it back.

He glances over his shoulder, shutting off the faucet, then turns around and leans his back against the counter, glass in hand. “What’s up?”

Clearing my throat, I slide into a kitchen chair.

When I don’t say anything for a beat, Fowler’s forehead wrinkles, and he pushes off the counter, taking the chair across from me. “Everything okay?”

“I guess, yeah, I just…”

Maybe I should’ve waited to have this conversation when we weren’t already more than a few beers deep. We’re not drunk, but I suddenly feel as if I can’t collect my thoughts. I don’t know how to say this without feeling like the world’s biggest douchebag.

But maybe that’s my penance for what I’ve done. Who I’m falling for.

I need Fowler to understand how this came about, that it was never either of our intentions for this attraction to develop between us. But I fear that nothing I say will make him understand me liking our dead best friend’s wife.

“So, you know how I’ve been spending time with Collins, right?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wary note in his tone. He already suspects. Maybe because I am a douchebag and he expects this shitty behavior from me.

“We both know what she’s been through and how much she changed after Caleb’s death.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

No improvement in the tone. Got it. I’m the asshole here.

“I knew Caleb would want her to move on with her life as best she could. That’s why I agreed to accompany her to all the stuff she wants to do—it was clear she wouldn’t do it on her own. And Nina is always tied up with Jacob, so that made it difficult for her to go do all that stuff.”

He sips his water and crosses his arms, then nods again, looking at me with an apprehensive expression.

I blow out a breath. “Anyway, we’ve gotten closer, and I’ve gotten to know her in a way that’s different than I knew her as Caleb’s wife.”

The glass stills in Fowler’s hands. My stomach twists in knots. I swear to God I might throw up all over this kitchen table before I can get this all out.

“Cut to the chase, Ansel.” His tone is now stone-cold. I’m not surprised. To him, this looks completely different than what it is.

“We’ve developed feelings for each other.”

Silence. For just a beat. He actually lowers the glass to the table in a calm manner. Maybe this will go better than I expected.

“Are you fucking serious?” he yells.

Nope. I was dead wrong.

My face heats in shame, and I drop my gaze.