“I’m fine now, yes, thank you,” I replied.
“You have to admit it was a little exciting, right?” he winked.
“If you call nearly dying exciting, sure.”
“What is life without risk, Chloe?” he asked.
I opened my mouth and promptly shut it. He had a point. I’d spent my life risking nothing, always taking the safest route when pressed. At least I had until lately. Coming to New York was the first risk I’d taken in a long time and it had already led to some of the most exciting moments of my life.
“I guess you have a point,” I admitted.
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine quickly.
“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way,” he replied.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, laughing.
He grew serious at my words, taking my cup from me and setting it on a table behind him, before turning back to me and pulling me into his arms. I snaked my arms around his waist, reveling in his closeness, inhaling the musky scent of him.
“You always have a choice, Chloe. If you had insisted, I would have made Alex turn the helicopter around and we’d have gone back to the city.”
“That’s not what I meant—,”
“—that’s why I made you create a safe word. I never want you to do anything with me that you don’t want to do. In or out of bed.” His eyes squinted in concern as he peered down at me.
“I know, Bear,” I replied, “I appreciate that.”
“Good,” he said, kissing me again, “it’s important to me.”
“I understand,” I nodded. Okay, so maybe I didn’t fully understand, because I still had so many questions, but I think I was beginning to.
His insistence on clear consent made me respect him immensely, though. Did I feel like I had complete control? Maybe not. But honestly, that was part of the thrill.
Someday, I’d use that safe word, I’d say no, just to test him. But not today. Not now. I wanted nothing more than to say yes to everything when it came to him. He was testing my limits and in turn I was testing them for myself. I had no idea how far we would go, how far I wanted to go, but I knew I’d only figure that out by taking it further and further.
I just wasn’t sure what that looked like.
I could only hope he did.
“Bruce made us a lovely dinner. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starved,” I replied. And I was.
“Good, you’ll need the fuel for later,” he growled, as he reached down and squeezed my ass. My nipples hardened under my sweater, anticipation rushing through my veins. “Come on, let’s eat.”
We walked hand in hand into the dining room, which perfectly matched the rest of the house. A huge slab of redwood with live edges made up the dining table, surrounded by antique shaker chairs.
A feast was laid out for us.
“Bruce did all this? This looks amazing!” I said.
“Bruce is my best friend. He’s an amazing cook. I’m an awful cook. He used to be a District Attorney in Manhattan but he burned out after ten years of watching innocent men go to jail. He’s equal parts hippie and ski bum. He has a huge heart and that kind of work, while he was doing it with a pure heart, proved to be too much for him. Every case broke his heart. It’s impossible to leave that kind of work at the office, you know?”
“Wow, yeah, I can understand that,” I replied, as he pulled out my chair for me and I sat down. He sat across from me and poured wine in our glasses from a bottle that Bruce had already opened.
“Not too much,” I said, throwing my hand up. “I don’t want a repeat of the other night.”
“You weren’t so bad,” he said.
“I was bad enough that you didn’t stay,” I said.
“Well, as I said then, we have plenty of time,” he said.
“Do we?” I asked, slamming my mouth shut as soon as the words flew out.
Bear cocked his head and smiled.
“Don’t we?” he asked. “Are you planning on going somewhere any time soon?”
“No, but—to be honest, Bear, I have no idea what is going on here. So therefore, I have no idea how long to expect it to last.”
“That’s fair,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been an open book, have I? And this is hardly a typical situation.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, looking down at my empty plate. Bruce had made pot roast and potatoes and carrots, surrounded by bowls of fruit and big silver platters of cakes and pastries and pies.
“Look, we have also have plenty of time to talk, Chloe. Eat!”
“Okay,” I said, piling roast on my plate. We ate silently, stealing glances at each other as we devoured the incredibly delicious food.
“How often do you come out here? If I had Bruce to cook for me everyday, I’d never leave,” I said.
“I try to get out here at least once a month, if not more. The city gets to be too much sometimes and I come out here to unwind. I bought the land five years ago and it took a year to build the house. There’s also a little cottage out back that Bruce lives in full-time, with a little stream behind that. I’ll show you in the morning, it’s beautiful.”
“This whole place is just stunning, Bear,” I replied.
“It’s an entirely different world than my penthouse in the city,” he said, between bites. “You’ll see it soon.”
I nodded, once again wondering what I was supposed to think about all of this. Where was this going? Were we dating? Were we just fucking? He was acting like I was his girlfriend almost and we’d still not defined or clarified what this actually was.
“Why did your parents name you Bear?” I asked.
“They didn’t,” he smiled. “It’s actually Barrett. One of my friends at school started calling me Bear in the eight grade. My parents hated it, so I adopted it just to piss them off.”
“I see. Tell me about your childhood,” I asked.
“Must I?” he winked. I shrugged in response. I had to start somewhere with my questions and the
beginning always seemed like a good place to start. “Alright, alright…let’s see. Where should I begin? My parents were both overachievers. Mom was a real-estate developer from London. Dad was an investment banker from Queens. They met when Mom came to the States for a conference, but she hated him at first. He chased her all the way back to England and finally won her heart during afternoon tea at the Brown Hotel. Dad had done all his research, finding out the best place to take her in the city. Queen Victoria used to take her tea there every day and Dad regaled Mom with stories of the Royals all afternoon. She said as soon as he began reciting the recipe for the famous orange cake they baked from scratch there at the hotel, she knew she loved him, just for making so much of an effort to impress her.”
“That’s a sweet story,” I said.
“It is. Unfortunately, the rest of the story doesn’t tingle the tongue quite as pleasantly.”
“No?”
“No. Mom relocated but she basically had to start her career from scratch, which took most of her time. Dad was already a workaholic, so they rarely saw each other. The honeymoon period ended quickly. They were working so hard and spent so little time together that when she found out she was pregnant with me two years later, she didn’t believe it. She made the doctor take the test three times. To say I was a surprise is an understatement.”
“I see,” I replied, so happy to hear about his past finally.
“After I was born, Mom went right back to work and I was raised by a parade of nannies.”
“Oh, dear.”
“The nannies weren’t bad. They were nice enough, I guess. But even though my parents weren’t around, they both insisted on ruling my life with an iron fist. Making every decision for me and regulating my activities like their own schedules. I was constantly running from music lessons to Latin lessons to soccer practice. I didn’t really get to be much of a kid.”
“Did you ask for more free time?”
“I tried. But I knew negotiating with me wasn’t something high on their list of priorities, so I gave up after a while. I did what they asked of me, what they thought was best for me, whether I liked it or not. Most of the time, I hated the things they made me do.”