Free Married by June by Ellen Hartman

hid her sexuality on purpose. Her mom had been much more feminine and overtly sexual. He’d noticed Jorie, though. It hadn’t taken him more than five seconds to become aware of her curves on their first blind date. He’d expected to have to work on her for a while before he’d get his hands on her—she gave off a vibe of being controlled—but she’d surprised him that night. It was the one and only time he’d had sex on the first dateand it had been one of the most amazing nights of his life.
    “Cooper!” she said sharply, bringing his focus back to the question at hand. “Are. You. Insane?”
    Her interpretation was fair. He was flip-flopping more than a congressman whose district lines had been redrawn. He wouldn’t be here if not for the election, and he knew it, but he was stung by her anger, nonetheless. “I don’t think so. Your opinion might differ.”
    She tugged on her T-shirt and glared at him. “Would you like a drink? I’m suddenly in the mood for alcohol.”
    The one beer he’d had in the kitchen with Bailey hadn’t been nearly enough for a day like this, so he asked her for a Scotch. An antique, glass-fronted buffet on the far wall of the living room was her bar. She opened one door and pulled out two crystal rocks glasses and a small, silver ice bucket. As she crossed in front of him to get to the kitchen, she muttered, “You can sit down, you know. There’s cake.”
    He moved to the couch, but didn’t touch the cake. Instead, he watched in silence as she returned with the full ice bucket and then poured the drinks. Jorie loved formal rituals. She’d never put the ice directly into her glass if she could use the ice bucket. She’d always reach for the cake stand first and then offeryou a real china plate and the right size fork. The way she moved so confidently, using the tongs to put exactly three ice cubes in her glass and leaving his straight, was typical of her. She could be wearing nothing but a garbage bag and she’d still make their drinks with a perfect country-club flourish. Her mom had taught her that presentation mattered, and he was pretty sure that for Jorie, knowing the etiquette of a situation was soothing, not stifling, the way it would be for some people. He’d always liked watching her move gracefully and competently through everyday tasks, but tonight he felt sick watching her hands. She’d already taken off his ring.
    She handed his drink to him and retreated across the room to sit in the pink slipper chair near the door to her bedroom. That put the coffee table and the entire width of the Oriental rug between them. He was surprised she didn’t keep going, into the bedroom or even out the window, since it seemed she couldn’t stand to be near him.
    He should have brought flowers. Or something. Now that he was here, facing Jorie, who was unmistakably, justifiably angry, who wasn’t wearing his ring, he wasn’t sure how to start. He wished he’d fleshed out the plan in his notebook, because he could use an actual opening statement right aboutnow. She solved the problem for him by asking, “Did you really say we should get back together?”
    There was no way to ease into this and no sense trying to woo her. She’d proved impervious to his romantic schemes time and again.
    “Bailey has to resign. His marriage is over. He’s got a girlfriend and she’s pregnant. The story’s going to break tomorrow at the latest.” That covered the first point he’d written down. Bailey. Next up, his appointment to the Senate and then their need to become reengaged. Or would it be more like annulling the breakup? Either way, he’d left the hardest part for last.
     
    J ORIE TOOK A SWALLOW of Scotch. She’d only poured the drinks to have something to do while she collected herself after the shock of hearing him say they should get back together. But the news about Bailey threw her. Now that she took a better look, she saw that Cooper’s knuckles were white where he gripped