A little later, after we shower, she gives me the tour, showing me the three-story brownstone she grew up in and all the pictures of her family, telling me stories as we go.
Every second feels precious and important.
When we’re done, I turn to her in the kitchen, linking her fingers with mine. “I love knowing all that. Thank you for sharing.”
“It’s always been easy to talk to you,” she says. “We’re just expanding our repertoire.”
I tilt my face. “You know, that’s a good way to put it. Speaking of, I’m supposed to see Luna and Tempest today. Do you want to meet my sisters?”
“I’d love to.”
Maybe we’re zooming through these moments quickly.
But maybe not.
Because everything feels right about this pace, and this woman, and this new future we’re stepping into.
The only thing that throws me is when we meet up again in an hour. My phone is buzzing, and it’s Tempest saying she has something to tell me.
19
Ransom
Teagan gives me a tentative look when we reach the coffee shop. “I can just wait outside, or run errands and meet you back here,” she offers.
I shake my head, having none of that. “She knows I’m with you. It’s fine.”
Teagan chuckles, patting my shoulder in a you’re so cute fashion. “That isn’t the issue. I meant if you wanted to see her alone.”
“No, we can go together. It’s all crazy talk anyway.”
I show her the text again.
* * *
Tempest: It’s about Adrian.
* * *
“I mean, she has to be playing a joke on me,” I say, then push open the door to the coffee shop, scanning the tables for my sister. She’s in the back, tapping away on her computer.
I march over to her, introduce her to Teagan, then grab a chair and park myself in it.
“So . . . is this the height of smack talk?”
She grins. “I assure you it’s not. It’s all true. I’m seeing Adrian Martinez.”
My. Jaw. Drops.
Clangs to the floor.
I grab it, yank it back up.
“Seriously?”
Tempest grins wickedly. “Yes, seriously.”
Teagan holds up a palm to high-five. “You go, girl.”
I snap my gaze to my woman. “How can you be encouraging her?”
Teagan rolls her pretty eyes. “Adrian’s a fascinating guy, and you’re friends. What is the problem?”
I huff. She makes a good point. But the problem is . . . “How did this happen?”
Teagan laughs again and sets a hand on my arm. “Sweetie, you can’t figure it out?”
“No. And why are you looking at me like I’m clueless?”
Teagan meets Tempest’s gaze. “You’re his phone bidder, right?”
Tempest smiles proudly. “I am indeed. We had lunch this week, and have met up a few more times already.”
Teagan’s eyes light up. “We should all go out together.”
“I’d love that,” Tempest says, then looks at me. “And you would too, right, Ransom?”
She’s leading the witness. She’s saying what she wants me to say.
And part of me wants to growl and grump, but another part realizes my sister is happy, my woman is happy, and hell, maybe my bud is too.
“Sure. Let’s double.”
It sounds odd, but oddly cool too.
20
Teagan
Two weeks later
* * *
I strut down the street on the way to work, pop music blasting, my sassy pink purse on my arm, bopping in my head to the beat of my . . . no-longer-single-in-the-city lifestyle.
I’ve been with Ransom—officially—for only two weeks.
But it’s been a whirlwind.
A fantastic fourteen days of dates and sex, nights and talks, food and fun. And more sex.
As well as falling for him.
Falling so much it ought to scare me.
But I’m not scared.
Or at least I’m not scared enough to stop it.
I’m brave enough to try it.
And when I arrive at work and open my email, I’m reminded why.
Summer sent in her dating article, and when I open the file, I can’t stop smiling.
She and Oliver wrote love letters to each other about their married dates, and it reminds me that this is why love is worth taking a chance on. Because sometimes friendships don’t just become something more—they become everything.
I sink back in my chair with the letters and devour them.
Dear Sexy-As-Sin Husband,
* * *
Let’s talk about dating your husband.
* * *
Well, my husband.
* * *
You, obviously, and the date starts here in this letter.
* * *
First, have I told you lately how good you look in your Speedo?
* * *
Or how freaking adorable you are when you get out of bed with your hair sticking up in ten thousand directions?
* * *
Or how cute you are even if you have a cookie crumb on the corner of your lips?
* * *
Well, I don’t always tell you that last one. Sometimes I just lick it off. Because cookies and your lips are the perfect combo.
* * *
Point being—I dig you.
* * *
In the water, out of the water, at home, in the park, in the morning, and at night.
