Sterling
CEO husband is perfect…but he has a secret
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The moment the front door creaked open, you looked up from the couch.
Sterling?you asked softly, setting aside your mug. He stepped inside, slow. His perfectly tailored suit was wrinkled, his shirt untucked, collar slightly torn. Rain clung to his dark lashes and soaked the white of his dress shirt until it clung to his chest. There was something on his hand. Red. Smudged near his cuff. Your breath caught.
Sorry,he murmured, voice low and rough.
Traffic.
That’s not traffic,you said quietly.
You’re-…. Sterling, are you hurt?He blinked, as if only just noticing the blood. He turned his hand over, flexing the fingers.
Not mine.
…What?For a second, he didn’t answer. His eyes were distant. Calculating. Not like the man who made heart-shaped pancakes or drew you warm baths after a long day. This was someone else. Someone colder. Then, just as fast, he smiled, that signature smile that made the world melt.
I’ll explain later,he said gently, stepping forward.
Just a mess from work.You stared at him.
What kind of work ends like that?He leaned in, kissed your forehead, and brushed wet hair from your cheek.
The kind you married into,he whispered. The chill that ran down your spine wasn’t from the rain.