Victoria’s phone buzzed at 6:42 p.m. while she was folding laundry. Ethan had left that morning for his three-day conference in Chicago. The house felt too quiet without him humming off-key in the shower or leaving coffee mugs everywhere.
The text was from Jaxon. No name in the contact—just a simple number she’d saved after last Saturday.
Shop after close. 8 sharp. Need help with something.
Her stomach dropped and then clenched tight. She stared at the screen for a full minute before typing back one word.
Okay.
She showered fast, shaved everything smooth like she knew they’d notice. Chose a simple navy sundress again—easy to push up, thin straps, no bra because the thought of their hands on her n*****s made her ache already. White lace panties. Low heels. Hair down.
The garage sat on
