Veronica POV

"Hey, Mark, where the hell have you been hiding all afternoon? I called out for you twice from the kitchen, and nothing. You know I hate yelling across the whole damn house like this." I stood there in the doorway to our backyard, hands on my hips, staring at my husband as he lounged by the pool in that ratty old lounge chair.

The sun was beating down hard, making the air feel thick and sticky against my skin, and I could already feel a bead of sweat trickling down between my breasts under this thin tank top I threw on after doing the laundry.

Mark looked up...