That hit me hard. Before I’d come along, Gideon had structured his life so he could be alone in every way—work interspersed with occasional hookups and avoidance of his family. I’d changed that, and I didn’t want him to regret it.
“Now’s your chance to get rid of all the things you don’t want me to find when I move in,” I teased, still trying to keep things light.
“You know all my secrets.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll be together in Westport.”
“Tomorrow’s too far away.”
Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I kissed his jaw. “You’ll sleep through some of it and work through the rest.” Then I whispered, “We could sext. You can see how creative I can be.”
“I prefer the original over reproductions.”
I dropped my voice to a purr. “Video, then. With sound.”
He turned his head and caught my lips, taking my mouth in a long, deep kiss. “This is love,” he murmured. “Agreeing to this.”
“I know.” I smiled and pulled back to hit the button for the elevator. “You could send me naughty pics, too, you know.”
His eyes narrowed. “You want pictures of me, angel, you’ll have to take them yourself.”
Backing into the elevator, I wagged a finger at him. “Spoilsport.”
The doors started to close. I had to grip the handrail to stop myself from dashing back out to him. Happiness came in so many forms. Mine was Gideon.
“Miss me,” he ordered.
I blew him a kiss. “Always.”
When I opened the door to my apartment, I was hit with two things at once: the smell of recent cooking and the sounds of Sam Smith.
It felt like home. But I was abruptly struck with sadness that it wouldn’t be home for much longer. Not that I doubted the future I’d accepted when I married Gideon, because I didn’t. I was so excited about the thought of living with him, being his wife in private and public, sharing my days—and nights—with him. Still, change was harder when you were happy with the pre-change version of your life.
“Honey, I’m home!” I called out, dropping my bag on one of the teakwood bar stools at the breakfast bar. My mom had decorated the entire apartment in a modern traditional style. I probably wouldn’t have gone with some of her choices, but I liked the result.
“I’m right here, sweet cheeks,” Cary drawled, drawing my attention across the open floor plan to where he lay sprawled on our living room sofa in board shorts and no T-shirt. He was lean and tanned, his abs as beautifully defined as Gideon’s. Even off duty, he looked like the super hot male model he was. “How was dinner?”
“Good.” I headed over to him, kicking off my heels on the way. I figured I should enjoy doing that while I could. I couldn’t picture myself leaving shoes strewn around Gideon’s penthouse. I thought it might drive him a little crazy. And since I was sure there were other things I’d drive him crazy with, it was probably best to pick my vices carefully. “How was yours? Smells like you cooked.”
“Pizza. Semi-homemade. It’s what Tat was craving.”
“Who doesn’t crave pizza?” I said, plopping gracelessly onto the couch. “Is she still here?”
“Nah.” He glanced away from the TV to look at me, his green eyes serious. “She left all pissed off. I told her we wouldn’t be moving in together.”
“Oh.” To be honest, I didn’t like Tatiana Cherlin. Like Cary, she was a successful model, although she hadn’t yet attained his level of recognition.
Cary had met her on a job. Their purely sexual relationship had shifted drastically when she’d found out she was pregnant. Unfortunately, she’d discovered she was expecting around the same time Cary found a great guy he wanted to work on a relationship with.
“Big decision,” I said.
“And I’m not sure it’s the right one.” He ran a hand over his gorgeous face. “If Trey weren’t in the picture, I’d be doing the right thing by Tat.”
“Who says you aren’t? Being a good parent doesn’t mean you have to live together. Look at my mom and dad.”
“Fuck.” He groaned. “I feel like I’m choosing myself over my child, Eva. What does that make me, if not a selfish bastard?”
“It’s not like you’re cutting her off. I know you’ll be there for her and the baby, just not in that way.” Reaching over, I twirled a lock of his chocolate brown hair around my finger. My best friend had suffered through so much in his life. The twisted way he’d been introduced to sex and love had left him with a lot of baggage and bad habits. “So Trey’s going to stick?”