Page 20 of Forever After Fall

“They what?!” I’m shocked. Back then, the age gap would have seemed steeper than it does now. But I’m his son’s aunt. “They what? Thought you were just going to what? Wine and dine them, and then come home and fuck your nanny? What a low opinion to have of all of us.”

“I don’t know if they thought it through that far. I think they just thought you were friendly and pretty, and I relied on you a lot back then. Probably more than I should have when you were still in college.”

“Your wife had just died and left you alone to parent Ford. He wasn’t always an easy kid. Gosh, he still isn’t some days. The teen years suck by the way! But what I mean is… the least I could do was help. You helped me too. I see why you’ve focused on dating people who understand where you’re coming from.”

Silence falls around us for a long moment before he returns to the previous question.

“How do you know about the women from the support group?”

Oh. Right. Telling him the truth about this is going to mean fessing up to something else he doesn’t know about. Another awkward moment to add to the pile.

“One of them came into my adult toy shop.”

I wait for the inevitable grasping of pearls, or whatever thirty-something male construction company CEOs clutch when they’re shocked. But it doesn’t come. He doesn’t seem surprised at all.

“You’re not going to lecture me?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

“About the toy shop? No. Seems like you did a smart thing. I’ve heard it’s doing well.”

“How long have you known?”

“A while.” He shrugs before his eyes drift up to meet mine. “How long have you known?”

“About a year,” I answer, and he winces in response. “She didn’t say your name. But she mentioned enough things about you. She really wanted to impress you. It was so sweet. I didn’t think anything of it until that night. You were passed out on the couch, and your phone was still unlocked. She sent you a picture in one of the lingerie pieces I helped her pick out. Between the name on the text and the lingerie…”

“Yeah, I’m following.” He scrubs a hand over his face and pulls his baseball cap off, turning it forward again and pulling the bill low over his eyes. He rubs a hand over his mouth and utters a low curse, shifting on his feet.

“I’m not judging you or shaming you. I assume you enjoy it. I mean, you must, because you have glowing reviews. The fact that women are reccing you to their friends? That’s a hell of a résumé. I hope it went well. She was so excited.” I smile again when I think of her.

“Bristol…” He groans, and he flips his ball cap backward again like he doesn’t know what to do with himself before there’s another low series of curses.

“No. I mean. I get it. I’d pay good money for that, honestly. I know it’s just the post-breakup blues in my case. I can only imagine being in their situation. God. It must be awful.”

“They don’t pay me.”

“Oh. No, I mean, I didn’t mean to imply they did. I just meant. Shit. I see how that sounds. I mean, even if they did pay you, I’m not judging. Money well spent. You know?”

“They don’t.”

“Right, I just mean they’d be worth paying for. Er. You’d be worth paying for. Having had a touch of the experience, I get it. God. Okay. I’m going to shut up now.” I bury my face in my hands, barely peeking at him through my fingers.

He tilts his head to the side, still clearly uncomfortable with this conversation, but as his eyes meet mine, his face breaks from confusion into amusement.

“You’d pay, huh?”

“I’m just saying!” I throw my hands up in my own defense.

“How much?”

“I mean, the shop probably isn’t doing well enough to afford you. Unless there were package deals.”

Another round of laughter rolls free from deep in his chest, and it’s infectious.

“I did not mean the pun there. I swear—this week—we’re just a mess. I don’t know how we made it this many years with everything working perfectly, and then now all of a sudden, everything is just chaos.”

He shakes his head and shrugs like he’s as confused as I am about how we got here.

“Can you imagine if Hazel knew?”