He smiles. “Pity… because I’ve kind of become infatuated with you, Grasshopper.”
I laugh. “You want a donut, Mr. Boss Man?”
“I’d love one.”
I present him with the box, and let him make his choice. He opts for the plain glazed, and I choose the strawberry powder one. I know it’s going to make a mess, but that’s what’s fun about it. We bite into our donuts, as happy as small children.
He helps me clean the kitchen and we retreat to the living room. We chat about Ethan and Weston’s kids, much more upbeat topics. He steals a touch here and there, and every time he does, I want more. I want time to speed up, so we can find ourselves alone again.
He helps me with Ethan’s bath, delighting in every second of it. He tells me he misses those days, and I tell him he’s welcome to help me anytime. He wonders how I can take care of Ethan all by myself, and I remind him that I have a lot of help.
Finally, I tuck Ethan into bed. I stare for a beat. I love his big brown eyes. They’re so kind, just like his father’s were. I love his golden locks and his small cupid bow mouth. I kiss him on the forehead. “Good night, my little monkey.”
He giggles like he always does.
We’re just about to leave when he stretches out his little arms. “Sten,” he says. “Sten.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s reaching out to Weston. “He wants a kiss from you too.”
Weston’s eyes grow wide. “From me?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “I guess you’ve made an impression.”
Weston slowly approaches, as if Ethan might have a deadly virus or something.
“He’s not contagious,” I tease.
Finally, Weston dips his head and kisses Ethan’s forehead softly. “Goodnight, Ethan.”
The sight is so sweet, it almost makes me cry. I can tell that he used to be a great dad. Probably still is.
I turn off the light, and take Weston’s hand. I lead him to my bedroom. He’s the first man, the only man to have entered my bedroom, in this way. I’m not planning to break the agreement. I just want him to see the place where I dream, where I fantasize about the things I’d love to do with him.
He studies the space without a word, beiges and sky blues, accents of red. His gaze darts from my dresser to my bed, and back again. He studies the photo of Donovan and I. He walks over to the mannequin in the corner and takes in the beautiful red evening dress that I’ve only worn once, at a charity event.
“I know… there are too many throw pillows on my bed,” I joke.
He smiles. “Not at all. I’m a big fan of throw pillows myself.”
“Well, that’s quite unusual for a man.”
“Well, I’m not a usual man, Grasshopper. I thought you knew that already.”
“Oh… I do.”
He settles himself comfortably on my bed, amid the myriad of pillows. I want to tell him to get off my bed. I don’t like him there. He’s looking way too sexy in his slim fitting black shirt and pants.
“I like your room,” he says. “It’s soothing.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I like it too.” I remember first decorating it a few years before. I wanted something classic that wasn’t too feminine. The wall colors I chose are understated and somewhat masculine, and I chose the bed covers to match. I allowed myself pops of red in a single throw pillow, the dress, and a vase on the dresser.
I walk slowly to the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. He smiles as I near closer. “You stay right there.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “What?”
He bites his bottom lip. “I was thinking…”
I smile, wondering what he’s up to now.
“Now, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, but it’s in the agreement. It’s up to you.”
Uh-oh. I wonder what he has in mind now. Not knowing scares me, but it also excites me. A lot.
