Page 75 of Trial and Error

I set the flowers on the table and move behind Bridget. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I pull the material of her coat over her shoulders and down her arms. She lets me take her coat and hang it on the rack on the wall next to the door and when I crouch down to take her shoes from her feet, she places a hand on my shoulder to steady herself.

“Can you get the zipper?” she asks, turning her back to me.

I stand from my position and reach for the silver zipper that is well hidden in the fabric of her dress. I pull it down to where it stops at the base of her spine and her skin prickles as I run my thumb down her spine. I make sure to take my time pushing the fabric down her body, kissing each part of exposed skin. She stands there as I undress her, humming approvingly when I kiss her neck, shoulders, and collarbones.

I move in front of her, continuing my slow perusal of her body and she watches as I crouch down again, kissing the soft flesh of her belly. I smile against her skin when I notice she doesn’t suck in. My lips meet the top of her lacy underwear as I pull the dress over her backside, and when I move my hand to her ass and squeeze her cheeks, it earns me a soft moan.

Flicking my gaze to hers, I feel my blood boil at the heated look she’s giving me. I let the dress fall down past her knees, onto the floor so it pools at her feet. My eyes snag on the red lace lingerie set she’s wearing, and I gulp.

This woman is a fucking masterpiece. All soft and supple.

I stand, fully aware of the erection tenting the front of my pants, and she lets her eyes linger on the sight before she finally drags her attention to my face. I lift her arms and sling them over my shoulders. She stands against me, watching as I reach down to scoop her up. Her legs automatically loop around my waist and she cuddles against me as I carry her toward her room.

I sit her on her bed, she watches as I pull open the draws on her dresser as I look for a pair of pyjamas. I finally pull open the right one and reach for the matching set of pyjamas with koalas on them. As I turn, I notice she’s unclasping her bra, and when she lifts her arms, I slip the soft cotton shirt over her head and down her torso. She lies back on her bed and pushes her panties down her legs onto the floor. As she stands from the bed, I crouch down, helping her into her pants.

“Why are you so nice?” she whispers as I rise to my feet, snapping the elastic of the waistband against her waist.

I lean down and press a gentle kiss against her lips. “I take good care of people who mean a lot to me, Bridget.” I kiss her again and feel her sigh against my lips. “And in case you haven’t noticed, that includes you.”

I reach down and link our fingers together and tug her toward the door. She follows as we walk through her living room and into her kitchen, where she opens the fridge and begins pulling things out. I take the chicken, chorizo, onion, peppers, and spinach and set them on the side as she reaches into a cupboard for a bag of rice.

“What are we having?”

She steps on the tips of her toes to reach a can of tomatoes. “Chicken and chorizo risotto,” she says. “It’s a comfort food of mine.”

I watch her move around the kitchen with ease. She connects her phone to the speaker and hums along to whatever is playing, but I’m not paying any attention to anything other than her. She looks relaxed as she preps all the ingredients and it’s not long until everything is in the pan and simmering away.

We stay in the kitchen, talking aimlessly until the food is ready and I help dish it up into two large bowls. We take our dishes into the living room and over to the couch, and I smile as she pulls a blanket over us.

“This is very nice,” I say as I scoop some up with my spoon. “Do you enjoy cooking?”

She nods. “It relaxes me,” Bridget says, taking another bite of her food. “My nan taught me how to cook and we always used to cook together.” She sighs. “I miss her a lot.”

I reach over and give her knee and squeeze. “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

“She was.” Bridget clears her throat as she finishes up her food. “Anyway, your mom texted me today and asked if we were free this weekend coming up.”

I huff out a laugh. “She texted you? Man, she loves you more than she loves me.” Bridget giggles. “What does she have in mind?”

“She mentioned something about a family house in Nelson and she said she wanted to have a family weekend. Oscar, Isobel, and the girls are going, and she wants us there, too.” She seems hesitant as she tells me, like she’s waiting to see my reaction.

I’m not sure whether she expects me to dismiss the idea and tell her that spending a whole weekend with them is taking this too far, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I want to spend time with her in this capacity. I want her to come to family weekends, because even though she doesn’t know it yet—she is family. She fits in so effortlessly.

“Do you want to go?” I ask. “Because if you think its too much then you don’t have to. I can go by myself and⁠—”

“I’d love to come,” she interrupts me and then pauses and looks down at her hands in her lap. I don’t miss the way her cheeks tint pink. “I also want to apologize for going radio silent the past few days. I wasn’t expecting Olivia’s nickname to hit me so hard, and I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it well.”

“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Everything that we’re doing isn’t conventional, and I think it would be weird if you didn’t have some self-preservations about it.”

Bridget doesn’t reply; in fact, she doesn’t say anything for a while, but when she does, her voice is soft, and I almost miss the words that pass through her lips.

“Elias, I’m not entirely sure how much of this is fake anymore.”

Bridget lifts her head and looks at me with so much vulnerability my chest aches. “Tell me what you mean.”

She takes a deep breath—almost nervously—and says, “I’m almost one hundred percent certain that the feelings I have for you are, in fact, very, very real.”

My lips kick up at the sides and I feel a huge sense of relief, knowing we’re on the same page. “Same here, baby,” I say and lean over to brush my lips against her forehead. “We’re in this together, okay?”