Third Life - Noelle Adams Page 0,55

into morning sex?”

“I’m sure I’d be just fine with morning sex, but we’re not going to try it right now or my muffins will burn for sure.”

“What if I promised to be quick?”

“I doubt you’ve ever been quick in your life. Anyway, they’re almost done. You want some coffee?”

“Yes. That would be great. I can make it.”

“The french press is in the sink, since I finished what I made earlier, but the coffee is in the cabinet to the right of it. Go ahead and make some more.”

He doesn’t look particularly disappointed as he goes over to work on the coffee. In fact, I wouldn’t blame him at all if he was glad to get some coffee before he had to exert himself for sex. I pull out the muffins to let them cool as I finish the sweeping I’d not quite completed because of Richard’s appearance.

Then we sit down with our coffee and muffins and read our phones for a while.

When we’re done, Richard is still in the mood for sex. I can see it in his eyes. So I tell him we can go back to bed as soon as I’ve put up the dirty dishes. He helps by drying the ones I don’t put in the dishwasher, and he opens all my cabinets to learn what goes where as he puts them up.

After we’ve finished, I dry off my hands and turn to face him, only to discover that he’s wandered into my living room and he’s staring at an empty spot on the mantle above the gas fireplace.

I don’t know how he figured it out—instinct or acute observation or sheer luck—but he’s found the spot where I had placed the champagne flutes.

“They’re in the closet,” I say, coming up behind him. “I put them up. After I got back from Saint Thomas.”

He nods, silent for a moment before he turns to face me. “You were really serious about ending things.”

“Yes. I was. I didn’t know there was any other option. I thought you were just... And I had real feelings. I was going to get hurt.”

“I know you were.” He leans down to brush his lips across mine but doesn’t linger. “You were a lot wiser than I was. I kept telling myself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just sex. And that, sure, it was the best sex I’d ever had in my life, but it couldn’t be anything deeper than that. I thought, as long as you were fine with having no strings, there was no reason we shouldn’t enjoy it. Because if anyone got hurt, it would just be me.”

“Why were you so convinced it couldn’t have been more than sex?”

“Because I didn’t think I was capable of more. I didn’t think it was in me. To feel this way. To be this man.” He licks his lips and then glances away. “And I was sure that, even if I could, even if I was, it would never be more than that for you.”

My brows draw together as I stare up at him. “What? Why did you think that?”

He gives a half shrug, casually dismissing what’s anything but insignificant. “Because I couldn’t imagine you would ever want me that way. For sex? Sure. Of course. But for more... for something real...” He shakes his head, still not meeting my eyes. “I knew you’d eventually want that from someone, but I never dreamed you could want that from me.” His voice grows slightly hoarse at the end.

He means it. He’s as confident as a man can be when it comes to business, to culture, to sex. But in anything that goes deep, he’s as vulnerable as anyone else. Maybe more so. It actually never occurred to him that I might fall in love with him. Not for real. Not in a way that matters.

It’s been a really long time since this man has been loved. Decades.

He didn’t think it was possible again.

I make a little sound in my throat as my face twists with emotion. Then I wrap my arms around him and hold him against me.

He hugs me back, burying his face against my neck for a few moments. He’s feeling this deeply. As deeply as I am.

“You want to go back to bed?” I ask at last. “I’ll show you exactly how much I want you that way.”

He smiles at me. He’s going to say yes. And then we’ll head to the bedroom and spend a long time proving how much