Second Wives: A totally unputdownable psychological thriller packed with twists by Carey Baldwin

Author:Carey Baldwin [Baldwin, Carey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803143187
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2023-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Tish and Christian’s kitchen sparkled from elbow grease and the kind of love one pours into one’s first real home. Charity wanted to crow because she and Nash had beaten out Jackson and Brigid for the honor of being the first dinner guests. To give the kids a break from organizing and cleaning, Charity had insisted on ordering takeout from Christian’s favorite Indian restaurant and, now, the “dining room”, which was actually a nook attached to the kitchen, smelled like curry and fresh paint.

“How was the team building last night?” Tish laid her fork atop the bit of remaining rice on her plate, and then reached for Christian’s hand.

Nash cleared his throat.

Ignoring the uncomfortable look on his face, and inspired by the young lovers, Charity laid her hand atop Nash’s. Was she hurt by Nash’s behavior at Clues in Your Coffee?

Who wouldn’t be?

And in that first, unguarded moment, she hadn’t been able to conceal her true reaction to stumbling upon her husband with his arms around Brigid. But, now, she’d had time to compose herself. “It was a lovely evening. A wonderful reminder of how much we all mean to each other.”

“Sounds like you haven’t spoken to your mother.” Nash eased his hand out from under Charity’s. “Because it wasn’t lovely for her. Brigid had another panic attack, and I’m afraid Charity had something to do with that.”

“Darling, if anyone should be complaining it’s me, not Brigid.” It was one thing not to admit he’d hurt her, but quite another to allow him to make her the villain of the piece.

“Brigid’s not complaining. I am.”

“Let’s change the subject—”

“Wait a minute, if Mom had another panic attack, I’d like to hear what happened,” Tish said.

Charity planted her forearms on the table and, unfortunately, into a dollop of spilled sauce. She dabbed at the yellow-brown mess with her napkin. “It was a simple miscommunication. I was trying to recreate the events that brought the members of our club together—the reading of The Hound of the Baskervilles, the lights going out—but my timing was off and the electricity got cut after the reading while your father and Brigid were… conferring in the rare books room. There’re no windows and so—”

“Brigid was trying to get out and she pulled the blackout curtain down on top of her face. She couldn’t breathe.” The vein pulsing in Nash’s forehead was disconcerting. Charity was the one who should be angry—not Nash.

“Anyway, she’s fine. All’s well that ends well.” Charity threw down her napkin and dusted her hands together. Time to move on.

“I’m glad, she’s okay. It doesn’t sound too serious, so… why are you two mad at each other?” Tish asked.

“We’re not mad. Are we, Nash?” Charity smiled.

Christian let go of Tish’s hand and looked at Nash. “Don’t be angry at Charity. It was an accident, just like she said. But if anyone’s to blame, it’s me. Charity told me, specifically, to cut the lights at eight p.m., while Aiden was doing his reading, because that’s the same time it happened ten years ago.

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