Work during the workday. Play the rest of the time.
The front door opens and closes. He disappears into Lincoln’s office, there’s heated discussion but I can’t make any of it out, then his footsteps return to the living room. He stops right next to me.
Okay, I was foolish. I can’t pretend I didn’t notice. A normal person would have acknowledged him entering. I’m not very good at this. I look up.
“Hey, how did your meeting go?”
“Really well.” There’s confidence in his words but it doesn’t extend to his expression.
I tread cautiously. “I can take a break if you want to talk about it.”
He sits next to me so I slide my laptop onto the side table.
Holding my hand between us, he leaves a tiny bit of space that sends volumes of warning. I brace myself mentally. I won’t cry if he calls the whole thing off.
“I have something big to tell you. If it changes how you feel, I’ll understand.”
“Is this what you and Lincoln just argued about?”
“Indirectly. Before I tell you this thing…can I make love to you one more time?”
“Oh.” Is this like getting a last meal before being executed? How bad can his news be? It’s endearing that he didn’t just offer a lesson then drop the bomb. I go with the only thing I can think of. “Are you married or something?”
“Nothing like that. I’m not a criminal or anything. It just might change the way you think about me, and whether you want a relationship.” His eyes dart away.
A relationship? So, this is real, but how do I process information I don’t have? The truth is that I love him the way he is, and if his secret makes him this nervous, I want to make love one more time with this version of him. After he tells me, I’ll probably want to make love again because he trusted me.
“Lincoln knows?”
“Yeah, he was upset because I told him I wanted to make love to you alone.”
“Oh!” Which must mean my boss is a little jealous. Interesting. Does he think this bit of info will cause me to turn Jefferson away, getting him out of the picture?
He cups my hand with both of his. “Baby Doll, I need you.”
Sex isn’t my specialty, but I am pretty good at talking to people. I forgo the ache between my legs and the tingles all over my skin at the thought of his body pressed to mine.
“Don’t wait. Tell me now. I’m sure we can work it out if you trust me.”
“You’re young—”
“Give me a chance. I trusted you to teach me about sex and you said I was yours. Give me a chance to show you that you can trust me too.”
He lets go, props his elbows on his knees, and drops his head in his hands. I wait patiently. He sits upright, turning to
face me. “I’ve never been married. Never been in love…until now. I meant it when I said I love you.”
Love? For real? Not in the heat of passion. Can I let my guard down? I open my mouth to return the sentiment but he cuts me off.
“Don’t say it just because I did. Let me finish.”
My palms sweat. Am I going to choose to walk away when I hear him out? My heart is patching the cracks as fast as they form, but if he drops a big enough bomb, will I run? I could beg my brothers to let me stay at their place.
Agony is etched in his expression. “Unfortunately, being in love isn’t what it takes to make a baby…I have a ten-year-old son, Harrison.”
“Oh…” I seriously need to broaden my vocabulary. “Okay.” Not much better. I’m no math whiz, but that means his kid is only eleven years younger than me…how strange is that? Oh crap. Does that mean I have to choose Jefferson or Lincoln? Be an instant mom or a secret?
“I moved back to Eggplant Canyon to be near him.”