IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT, and here I am in a threadbare tee with lounge pants and a top knot, settling in on the couch with a new book and a bag of Tootsie Rolls. I haven’t been out in weeks. Not since the night I got trashed and puked all over Spencer’s house, and my godson. It’s not one of my prouder moments. The bar seems to have lost its appeal now that I’m not out on a dick hunt. I don’t even miss it like I thought I would. It’s like, what’s even the point?
So, when I’m not meeting up with Jeffrey for a quick fuck—which has definitely been made easier by his close proximity, even if it does make for lots of awkward run-ins—I’m either binging shows on Netflix or with my nose stuck in a book. Spence’s latest recommendation is Bashful by Lo Brynolf. It’s about a girl who falls in love with her gay best friend, and I’m way too invested in finding out how this could possibly end in anything but disaster.
I’m just getting started on the second chapter when the message alert on my phone sounds.
CEO: You busy?
Me: Reading, why? What’s up?
CEO: *winky face* *eggplant emoji*
My insides get all tingly and warm at the thought of what his message implies.
Me: Your place or mine? Where are the girls?
CEO: They’re at Spencer and Cooper’s for a movie night. Gotta pick them up at midnight. Can you come here?
Me: Sure…Give me an hour. I need to freshen up.
§
Forty-five minutes later, I’m turning down Jeffrey’s long, winding driveway. My breath catches when I pull up to the house, which is nothing short of amazing, with its second-floor balconies and turrets. It reminds me of a castle. The house itself is very similar to Spencer’s in style, but pale blue in color. The right corner of the wraparound porch, which I love so much, opens up into a beautiful gazebo. It’s every girl’s dream home.
Running my hand along the intricate railing, I make my way up the steps. Butterflies swarm around in my chest as I lift my hand to knock. Lines between us have been blurring. Jeff’s made it no secret that he moved here to be near me. To show me how serious he is and that he wants to make this thing work. But I’m afraid and stubborn, to a fucking fault.
The sound of his footsteps approaching sets my pulse to racing. It’s the same every time I see him—a rush unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I guess I’d liken it to a little kid on Christmas morning, eager and bursting to open their gifts. But I already know what’s inside, and the excitement never lessens.
“Tink.” He says my name in greeting, with a Cheshire Cat grin. His head is the only part of his body I can see, the rest is hiding behind the door. “Come inside. It’s chilly out.”
Stepping into the foyer, I deposit my things on the console table. When I spin around, I nearly choke from sucking in so much air. This insane man is wearing a white apron and chef’s hat, and nothing else.
“Wine?” Jeff offers, holding out a glass of my favorite red as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
Eyeing him from the top of his head to his bare toes, I take the offered drink. “What are you doing, Jeffrey? Is this…are we doing role-play?” I mean, I’ve never done anything like that before, but I would be down for any kind of sex with this man.
“Nope.” He winks, motioning for me to follow him.
Lord have mercy, I want to reach out and squeeze those perfect, round ass cheeks. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”
His only response is a shrug.
“You’re a strange man, Jeff—” My thoughts are lost when I step foot into the dining room. Vases of red roses sit on every surface—loose petals are scattered over the white linen table cloth. The only light comes from the candles at the center of the table, offering the perfect romantic atmosphere. I’m speechless. I’ve only seen the likes of this in the movies. Fucking frat boys doesn’t lead to candles, roses, and wine.
“What do you think?” he asks, pulling out my chair.
My mouth opens and closes and then I get a glimpse of his bare ass as he moves to sit in the chair beside me and burst out laughing.
“Something funny?” He scoots his chair in and removes the silver dome lids covering our plates, revealing some sort of shrimp pasta in a white sauce. It looks and smells delicious.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now, Jeffrey.” I glance around the room then back to his outfit. “You’re eating this fancy dinner…wearing that?”
He looks down at his chest and back up to me. “Unless it bothers you.”
“What’s going on?” I’m so fucking confused. I can’t tell if he’s trying to woo me or making a fucking joke. If it’s the latter…I just may kill him.
“I’m having a nice romantic dinner with the woman I love.” Well, excuse me. Way to drop the L-word. Now I can’t breathe.
“Wh—what’s with the outfit?” He said he loved me. He loves me?
Jeff smirks. “I thought maybe I could distract you from your overactive mind. Is it working?”
With a hard swallow, I nod. “I th—think it might be, Jeffrey.”
“Great!” He slaps his hands together a few times. “Let’s eat.”
“Eat?”
The confusing man laughs. “You know…put the fork in the plate, bring it up to your mouth. Chew. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.”
“Jeffrey?” My whole world is spinning right now. I can’t possibly eat.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Did you just—oh, God.” Tears prick the backs of my eyes. My throat swells up. Don’t you fucking do it, Gina. Don’t you start crying like a damn fool. “Did you mean me?”
His brows furrow in confusion. “When?”
“Y—you said the woman you l—love.”
Jeff looks around the room, under the table, behind his chair. “Is there another woman in this room I’m unaware of?” he teases. “Yes, Tink. Of course, I meant you.”
“You love me?”
He reaches out, taking my hand into his. “Gina, I wouldn’t have uprooted my children and bought a house in your best friend’s neighborhood if I wasn’t crazy in love with you.”
“This is really happening…” I mutter beneath my breath.
“I lied to you, Tink.” He reaches into the front pocket of his apron, retrieving a small red velvet pouch. He pulls it open, dumping something shiny into his hand. Then, he reaches for my wrist, lifting it into the air, and hooks another charm to the bracelet he and the girls gave me for my birthday. The bracelet I never take off. “When I said I couldn’t give you my heart.”
He removes his hand, and there’s a white gold heart charm dangling beside the ship. Holy. Shit. “Jeffrey?” My own voice sounds foreign to my ears.
“You already have my heart, Tink. It’s yours, and I want more than anything to possess yours.”
“Jeffrey?” I say again. Apparently, it’s my go-to response because I can’t form a coherent thought, much less express it verbally.
“What’dya say, Tink? Can we give this a shot? Will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, all sheepish and boy-like.
“Oh, Jeffrey,” I nod. Stupid tears spill down my cheeks. “I love y—you too.”
“You do?” His beautiful blue eyes shimmer in the candlelight. “So, does this mean I can finally take you on real dates?”
“I’d like that.”
“Wait ’til I tell the girls! They’re going to be so excited.” Wait, what?
“Huh? You wanna tell your children? Are you sure, Jeffrey?” Alarm bells start going off in my head. This was where we fucked up last time.
“Of course I want to tell them, Gina. They love you too, and they’ve been very impatiently waiting for me to win you back.” He chuckles. “In fact, it was Evangeline who made me finally realize that it’s okay…to love you, I mean. I know that sounds fucked up, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was somehow dishonoring my wife by falling in love with you. And I couldn’t stop myself from falling…I was a fucking mess, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you, Tink.”
“You want me, for real.” I can’t wrap my head around the level of permanence he’s implying. He’s talked to his kids about me. About dating me. About being in love with me. He. Loves. Me.
“I want you, Tink. God, I want you in every fucking way. I want you in my house and in my bed. At my breakfast table and sitting beside me at church on Sundays. I want your girly shit littering the counters in my bathroom and your soap in my shower.” He gets up from his chair, and I try not to lose it over his bare ass again. Kneeling at my feet, he takes my hand into his, kissing each of my fingers one by one. “Say you’re mine, baby. Just be mine.”
“I’m yours, Jeffrey. God help you if you fuck this up.” I laugh, rubbing my hand along his jaw. “I’m a little crazy, CEO. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
His response is to curl an arm under my knees and the other around my back, scooping me up from the chair. He carries me over to the living room, depositing me on a bed made of pillows and blankets right in front of the already-lit fireplace.
He literally thought of everything.
“Will you come with me to pick up the girls later? I want us to tell them together.” Only Jeffrey would still be thinking of his children at a time like this.
“Yes,” I rasp, pulling his face down so I can kiss his lips. “But…maybe you should put some clothes on first?”
