Addicted to Love by Lori Wilde Read Free Book Online

that’s what happened to a marriage? Kids took over.
    He’d tried his damnedest to keep the romance going. Flowers sent simply because he loved her. Jewelry slipped unexpectedly into the pocket of her housecoat. He’d arranged impromptu getaways just for the two of them. Nannies hired, housekeepers retained, all to cut down on her workload so they’d have more time together. He’d given her an unlimited expense account, encouraged her to pamper herself with spa dates and nights out with her friends. But no matter how hard he tried, she hadn’t seemed to appreciate a bit of it. In fact, the more he gave her, the more distant she became.
    He’d thought things would improve when the girls went off to college, when the nest was empty and they had the house to themselves. He imagined them golfing together, taking a trip around the world, maybe even building a getaway cottage on the Gulf of Mexico. But that wasn’t the way it turned out.
    She hated golfing, didn’t want to travel, and she was afraid of hurricanes. No matter what he suggested, she nixed it. Gradually, he ended up hanging out with his friends and she hung out with hers, until it seemed there wasn’t any point in staying married. Except he still loved her desperately.
    Truth was he’d been lonely. Starved for attention from his wife and hungry for her company. Was it any wonder that he’d answered flirtatious Vivian’s e-mail in kind the fateful day it appeared in his in-box?
    From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of red in his rearview mirror. A low-slung crimson Jaguar came out of nowhere, zipping into the passing lane.
    In this part of the country it was rare enough to see an expensive foreign-made sports car. Most of the vehicles on the road to Valentine were farm trucks or pickups, with an occasional SUV, minivan, or compact car thrown into the mix. There was Giada Vito’s green Fiat, but this powerful machine was no Fiat.
    Jeff Davis County was not a particularly wealthy part of Texas, although once upon a time, in his granddaddy’s day, there’d been a cache of oil hidden in the ground. But those days were long gone. There were only a handful of people in town who could afford an expensive sports car, and thanks to his granddaddy’s planning, foresight, and wise investing, and the fact that they’d found plenty of Texas crude beneath the Hendersons’ peanut farm, Michael was one of them.
    The Jaguar pulled alongside the Porsche.
    His masculine competitive streak had Michael speeding up for no good reason other than that he liked the singing strum of adrenaline racing through his veins.
    The Jaguar sped up, too.
    He peered into the driver’s-side mirror, trying to see the face of his challenger, but the windows were tinted so darkly he couldn’t even make out if the driver was young or old, male or female.
    It’s probably some other middle-aged fart going through a life crisis.
    The Jag blew past him and eased back into the lane in front of him, jauntily tooting its horn in the process.
    “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.” He jammed his right foot all the way to the floor.
    The Porsche, happy to be given the gas, leaped forward so fast Michael’s head thumped back against the headrest.
    The race was on.
    His heart pumped faster than it had pumped in years. His pulse throbbed in his throat. In his ears. In his groin. His gaze was glued to the Jag’s taillights as he slipped into the passing lane.
    “Upstart,” he yelled, shooting past the Jag.
    On the radio, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” had reached a crescendo. The guitars were wailing and Mick was singing and Michael was driving like he’d never driven before.
    He felt utterly, completely alive.
    And the Valentine city limits lay just ahead.
    His hometown. The place where he’d been born, grown up, married the love of his life, raised two daughters. The place where he would most likely die.
    The bleakness of that thought hit him all at once and he