Just My Luck by Adele Parks (best romance books of all time txt) 📗

wide-open and Ridley’s bike was propped up against the fence, advertising a confidence in the sleepy, safe, practically crime-free habitat. Lexi gasped, shocked that her fear had been justified, disappointed to be proven right. She stopped her car right in front of Jennifer’s home, suddenly aggressive and provocative, she almost wanted to be seen now. She wanted her so-called friends to know she had caught them out in their lie. It was still light, and she could easily see into the house and right through to the back garden. There, she could see Jennifer and Fred. She was sitting at the table; he was pacing about.

Lexi parked up and got out of the car. She was not going to take this lying down. Not after fifteen years of friendship. She was going to confront Jennifer and ask her why she had lied. If it was because she was cozying up with the Pearsons and she and Jake were being left out in the cold, then she would rather know. She might even decide to put a bomb under that relationship and light the bloody fuse. She could.

She decided to go straight around the back of the house into the garden. Catch them by surprise and not give them a moment to come up with some bullshit excuse as to why they weren’t driving to Birmingham to see Fred’s sister.

She walked up the back path. The moment she dipped into shadow, she regretted leaving the house in such a hurry. She should have picked up a cardigan. The sun was losing its power, and in the shadows the solid chill was the victor. Earlier today the breeze had caressed, now it nipped. Suddenly she lost her confidence in the idea of intruding when she heard Fred yell something or other—she couldn’t quite make out what, but he sounded seriously het up. Jennifer hissed something back at him, her tone too low to catch. Ah, a domestic. That’s why Jennifer had pulled out of the evening’s arrangements. Nothing insidious, just a row. Lexi felt relieved. And then instantly she felt mean for being relieved. She didn’t like to think of her friends rowing. An insect buzzed past her ear and she instinctively ducked away from it, then froze, not wanting her movements to draw attention, although they were unlikely to notice her as they were deeply embroiled in their drama. It was not like Jennifer and Fred to fight. Carla and Patrick, yes, they were volatile, caustic. Jennifer and Fred had a much calmer, civilized relationship. Some might go as far as to say that their relationship was so civilized it was borderline dull. A partnership, an economically based partnership. Jennifer had a good life being married to Fred, but not a passionate one.

“You are fucking him,” yelled Fred. “Just admit it!” He sounded drunk. His words were slurred but loud, insistent. What was he talking about? “You. Are. Fucking him. Just admit it.” This was embarrassing. What could Fred be thinking? Jennifer wasn’t having an affair. She’d have told Lexi. How had Fred come to believe something so out there?

“Keep your voice down—the neighbors.” Lexi should just turn around, walk away from this private mess, but she crept farther up the path so she could see her friends, not just hear them. She was only human. She saw the couple face one another, like warring gladiators, every muscle tense. Ready to pounce or run. Lexi could see the tension pulse in the tendons of Jennifer’s neck.

“I don’t care about the fucking neighbors,” snarled Fred.

“Then Ridley.”

“You should have thought of Ridley before you started fucking Jake fucking Greenwood.”

No, no, no. No! Lexi’s bones turned fluid. Her body sloshed about underneath her. Jake, her Jake? No. That can’t be right. Fred had got this wrong. Jennifer was going to tell him so. This was ludicrous. The moment stretched out to an eternity. Jennifer did not say anything to correct her husband. She didn’t say anything at all. Lexi couldn’t tear her eyes off Fred’s face, which looked swollen with betrayal and despair. She didn’t know it, but her own was twisted with shock. The birds tweeted merrily, oblivious to the noxious words that were being thrown, each one a blade, hacking at their lives. A neighbor’s dog barked repeatedly, indicating they weren’t at home after all. Lucky Jennifer, she didn’t have to worry about her neighbors overhearing the domestic. Lucky bloody Jennifer.

“I followed you, Jennifer. For fuck’s sake. I didn’t want to be right, but week after week the same bill from the same hotel.”

“I told you, it’s the cost of spa treatments. That’s the cost of a massage and a manicure.”

“Stop fucking lying, Jennifer. I checked. The hotel doesn’t have a spa. It’s the cost of a room. I’ve been paying for the room that my best friend fucks my wife in every Tuesday.” Lexi was sitting on the ground. She didn’t remember sitting down, but perhaps her body had known she might fall and had protected her. She dropped her head into her hands. She couldn’t look at them. This couple who were ripping her life apart with their accusations, their lies. She heard the sound of breaking glass. Maybe Fred had thrown or dropped his glass. She heard him sob. A grown man crying was always a hideously painful sound. Tuesdays? Jake always worked late on Tuesdays. An aphid landed on Lexi’s arm. She flicked it off and found herself momentarily concerned for Jennifer’s roses; might they get infected? Because that is how it had always been—they were concerned for one another, they looked out for one another. Then Lexi’s brain caught up with her instincts and she wished a blight on Jennifer’s roses, her home, her family, her whole rotten life.

The adrenaline surge that Lexi had felt as she’d stormed up the back-garden path had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. She didn’t feel combative—she was broken. It felt like someone was hitting her repeatedly in the chest.