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He really believed the root of the issue was Candace.

Why wouldn’t he think it was about Candace? Emma thought selfishly. It wasn’t about Candace. It was that Pete expected her to brush this off like it was nothing, to be her normal, affable self and soothe his ruffled feathers. Even though she felt peevish about that right now, she was relieved because she believed Pete hadn’t cheated on her.

Piper should become a full-time therapist. The advice she’d given Emma tonight had been spot-on. Emma now knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she needed to feel empowered in her marriage again. She needed to know she mattered to Pete—first.

That he would choose to put her ahead of their lifestyle, ahead of sex, ahead of his own pleasure.

Right now, she was pretty sure he didn’t.

And the only way to change those things would be to make Pete realize it for himself, and it wasn’t something she could just tell him. He had to discover it on his own.

She turned her back and headed up the stairs without another word.

“Wait!” he called, coming after her. “You can’t just say nothing. Can’t you at least acknowledge that this has nothing to do with me cheating on you? Emma!”

She stopped midway up and whirled around. “What I saw was you kissing Candace. I know she came here sniffing around in hopes of a quick fuck, but what I didn’t see was you trying to get away from her.”

“I didn’t have time,” Pete argued. “You walked in the second she kissed me. Believe me, I wanted her off me—”

“Pete, I want to believe you, I do. But I’m tired. I had a long day, and I want to go to sleep.” She turned and started up the steps again. “I mean, we fuck other people,” she tossed casually over her shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you feel like you could just fuck Candace if you wanted to? I think maybe our rules have blurred over the years and it’s time for some new ones.”

“What are you talking about? Our rules haven’t blurred at all!” Pete’s voice was frustrated. “This isn’t on me. I didn’t ask Candace to come over. She came with her own agenda!”

At the top of the stairs, Emma turned one last time, placing a hand on Pete’s chest before he could reach the top of the landing. “Just know,” she told him in a low tone, “if you get to kiss other people behind my back, I can do the same.” With that, she spun around and headed to their bedroom, trying not to smile at Pete’s shocked expression.

She would never cheat on him in a million years.

But it might be high time for him to think she would.

4

__________________________

____________

Pete hadn’t been able to get Emma to continue the Candace conversation and he was going nuts. He’d talked in vain until she’d fallen asleep, trying to get her to see things from his viewpoint—that Candace wasn’t a threat to their marriage, and their rules of sex had not changed. But Emma hadn’t responded.

Pete was having a hard time recognizing this Emma, and it was alarming. What he did recognize, however, was he was in deep shit, and he had to find a way to dig himself out.

As he drove into Madison for work the next morning, he slapped the wheel in frustration. He had no idea what to do. A few more miles and Pete pulled onto the parking ramp attached to his building. He worked for an ad agency, just like Piper Collins. Their companies were similar, but barely ever competed for the same business. Pete’s firm was more specialized in providing branding for the movie industry. It was big business. He loved his job, which made the thirty-minute commute worthwhile.

Once in his office, he tossed his briefcase on his desk right as his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, hoping it was Emma.

Instead, the name on the front read Michael Collins. That was unusual. Pete hadn’t talked to him in over a year, even though their wives had started hanging out together on a regular basis.

Pete accepted the call. “Hello, this is Pete Slater.”

“Hey, Pete, it’s Michael Collins. How are you?” Michael’s voice was relaxed and cordial.

“I’m doing well,” Pete said as he sat down. “What’s up?” There was a reason behind the call, and small talk wasn’t Pete’s forte.

“I’m calling to invite you out for a drink tomorrow night with Jason Stratton, Brad Harrison, and me. Our wives are meeting regularly now, and us guys have slowly gotten on board. I think the ladies are heading out to your place tomorrow, so I figured you might be looking for something to do. We’re meeting at Johnny Q’s after work around six thirty. It’s a sports bar. Do you know it?”

“I do,” Pete said. “That’s nice of you to offer, but—”

“To be totally honest with you, I’m doing this at Piper’s request. It’s not that I didn’t want you to join us, but it didn’t occur to me to ask.” He chuckled good-naturedly over the line. Pete took no offense. “Typical guy brain. But Piper met up with your wife last night, and she thought you might like to go out with us. We talk about the lifestyle on occasion, among other things.”

Pete cleared his throat. “She did, huh?” Pete’s brain raced. Emma had probably confided in Piper what was bothering her, and maybe Piper had given Michael some insight on how he could fix it. It was worth a try. Plus, he liked all those guys, even though he hadn’t seen them for a while. “Okay, you convinced me. I’ll be there.”

“Great, see you then.” Michael clicked off.

Pete sat there for a few minutes, thinking about his wife and what had shifted in their relationship, but he was at a complete loss. There hadn’t been any major upsets or fights—Candace notwithstanding—that had occurred in the last few months. They hadn’t done much swapping lately, but they’d been busy, which wasn’t unusual.

The only thing he could think of was the vacation. Emma had wanted to go somewhere where they could be alone.

He’d pushed for his agenda and won. But now she seemed genuinely excited to go. So what was it? Pete wondered idly if it was too late to get their deposit back after all. Maybe he could surprise her and book another hotel on a bigger island instead.

He ran his hands through his hair.

This thing with his wife was worrisome. She was clearly unhappy, and he was going to have to fix that.

Whatever it took.

* * *

Emma buzzed around the kitchen, finishing up all the last-minute prepping. Not only had she made appetizers for the ladies, but she’d also made a potluck contribution for the block party. The neighborhood event was fairly low-key, as she and Pete lived on a street that turned into a cul-de-sac that had only ten homes total. Their house was the one right before the cul-de-sac began.

Pete was going out with the guys, which had been a nice surprise. She was glad he was meeting up with them. Piper had given her a heads-up about Michael inviting him, and Emma had been thrilled.

Once the girls arrived, Emma planned on bringing them out to the block party for shits and giggles, but then they were going to come back here for the “travel shower” Caroline had insisted on throwing her.

It felt like an overindulgence, but secretly Emma was touched. She hadn’t had girlfriends like this since grade school. In high school she’d been so focused on dancing, she’d missed out on a lot of opportunities to build lasting friendships, so she was beyond happy to have these ladies in her life right now. They made it brighter.

Her phone beeped on the counter. It was Piper.

ON OUR WAY. NEED ANYTHING?

She typed back.

NOPE. ALL SET.