Free Applewild by Heather Lin Page A

didn’t think this prick would leave his wife for her, but she is a super model.”
    “I’m glad you’re handling it so well.”
    “What’s not to handle? I’m sure she’s taking him to Morocco with her. They can have their happy little vacation and make a happy little love nest. I give them a month.”
    Madison was quiet. Dread settled heavily in Alton’s chest.
    “Oh, Alton. You don’t know,” Madison said. “See, it just happened last night. And I wasn’t even sure I should tell you except I thought it might be better coming from a friend, and I’m sorry if that wasn’t the right choice to make. I mean, you are out there to be away from this bullshit.”
    “What are you going on about?”
    “Do you want to know?”
    “For Christ’s sake, Madison, spit it out.”
    “They’re getting married, Alton.”
    He froze. The cigarette fell from his fingers, and it wasn’t until the smell of burning rubber reached his nostrils he had the sense to kick it off of his shoe and stomp on it.
    “You’re fucking kidding me.”
    “I wish. I’m sorry.”
    Alton didn’t know what to say. He ran a hand over his face and lit another cigarette with shaking fingers. He shouldn’t be this affected by the news. He shouldn’t feel this hurt, this outraged. What was the difference if they were fucking or fucking and holding hands or fucking and married? This probably meant they’d been seeing each other for a while. A long while. Behind his back. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that they were over.
    But knowing beyond question that emotion had been involved in their affair was another hard slap in Alton’s face.
    “I’m really sorry, Alton.”
    “Thanks, Madison.”
    “You can stay at Applewild however long you want. And I’ll have some free time in a week. We could come for a visit. Whatever you need.”
    “Thanks. I’ll let you know. Bye, Mads.”
    “Bye, Alton.”
    He ended the call and stared at the barn. No amount of cigarettes or alcohol could tamp down the feeling of pure, unadulterated betrayal swirling within him. But he had something better. Forget the date. Forget charming Monroe. It was all just a means to an end, an end she’d admitted to wanting, too. He finished his cigarette as he closed the distance to the big red building. He entered through the back, just in time to find Monroe coming out of the feed room, tugging on those damned gloves. Her initial smile faded quickly.
    “What’s wrong?”
    He hesitated just long enough for her to read him, to understand exactly what he wanted from her and stop him. But those eyelashes dropped and those plump lips parted and he took that as permission. He brought his lips down possessively against hers, needing to feel in control of something . Her pert breasts pressed into his chest; she held the front of his v-neck t-shirt in a death grip. He splayed his hands across her ass and pressed her hard against him. Their tongues danced, tasted, explored. He slid one hand under the back of her shirt, relishing in the feel of her smooth skin.
    His lips moved to her neck, the sweet scent of hay mixing with the taste of salt. She trembled against him, one hand in his hair and the other on his back. Her hips moved in a slow grind against his. He doubted she even knew she was doing it, but it drove him crazy. All he needed was a dark corner—someplace to pull her pants down and release his frustrations in the best way.
    “Upstairs,” he said.
    She looked as though she might want to ask for an explanation, but Alton nudged her toward the door with his knee, shifting his erection against her thigh, reminding her of the task at hand. He moved with her, their lips never fully parting, stumbling through the feed room and half way up the stairs until she finally lost her footing and sat down hard.
    Alton braced his arms on either side of her, ducking his head to continue kissing her lips, drinking in her tantalizing flavor. Her cheeks were