Free Conflicted by Lisa Suzanne Page B

continued to make suggestive comments about Cole and me throughout dinner, and Cole continued to ignore those comments. I, however, ate them up. It was all in good fun.
    Because, as Cole had mentioned earlier, I was married. And he wasn’t interested.
    After dinner, Don drove the six of us to a bar Vince recommended. The music was pumping, and there was no way I was going to be able to hear any of the discussion. So I had two choices: sit around bored or participate in the fun.
    When they all ordered another round of bourbon, Vince looked in my direction. I nodded, and the waitress donning little more than a bikini brought me my very own tumbler filled halfway with amber liquid. I watched Cole’s eyes flick toward her ass as she walked away, and I felt a wave of envy.
    I took a sip from my tumbler. The bold and spicy flavor warmed my throat as I swallowed it down. I’d never had straight bourbon before, so this was a brand new experience for me.
    It didn’t take long for the alcohol to hit me. I was used to drinking wine, and the alcohol content of bourbon was much higher, thus making me a total lightweight.
    And tipsy Lucy plus sloshed Cole equaled what could have become one hell of a hot mess.
    Vince ordered me another on the second round, but I nursed it. I kept an eye on Cole because I suddenly felt responsible for him. I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to make sure he got back to the hotel room safely.
    I watched as he got louder and louder with his buddies. I watched while he exclaimed that he was the CEO of Benson Industries, as if that made him untouchable and indestructible. I watched while his eyes kept sneaking glances in my direction as he fended off gorgeous, drunk women and waitresses in bikinis.
    And as Don pulled up to the hotel at the end of the night, I watched as Cole’s lips moved toward mine.

CHAPTER NINE
     
    “Cole, we can’t,” I whispered, pressing my hand to his chest to halt his forward progress toward my lips.
    What the hell?
    Why was I stopping him?
    This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?
    While it was definitely what I wanted, this wasn’t how I wanted it. I wanted sober Cole to kiss sober me because he wanted to kiss me, not because he was drunk and stupid and ready to make a mistake.
    If I was going to put my entire life in jeopardy by kissing a man who wasn’t my husband, it wasn’t going to be because one of us was drunk.
    He stared at me for a beat, and then he backed off. “Sorry,” he muttered, and then Don opened the door beside me and I slid out of my seat while Cole took a moment to himself in the back of the car.
    He got out and we headed together to our room. I slid the keycard into the door and opened it, and then I walked Cole to the couch—his bed. I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, Cole was asleep…but not on the couch.
    He was asleep in the bed. The bed that I was supposed to be sleeping in.
    I weighed my options as I slipped into my tank top and shorts. I could take the couch, which would give me a stiff back and make me miserable for the next few days, or I could slip into bed beside my boss. The bed he’d insisted I take when we first checked in.
    My husband snuck into my mind. He was at home, completely unaware that his wife was considering getting into bed with another man.
    It was completely innocent. Well, mostly innocent. I wanted to be close to him in case he needed me. Cole was pretty wasted, and what if he got up in the middle of the night and needed something? If I was out on the couch, I wouldn’t be able to help him.
    It was a poorly constructed justification, but my tired mind bought it fairly easily.
    I slid into bed beside Cole, who slept soundly.
    And I lay awake, staring at the ceiling for the entire night.
    I probably would’ve gotten more sleep on the couch, but I convinced myself that Cole shouldn’t be alone.
    I finally fell asleep when the first rays of sunlight started peeking through the sides of the heavy