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I might’ve swooned. “Fuck, why do I love that name so much?”

“Because it suits you perfectly.”

I just smiled before finishing my own omelet and peeling the other banana. I took a bite, trying to ignore how phallic our food looked. We’d both come our brains out barely half an hour before—I did not need to get horny over fruit.

But the heat in Henry’s eyes as he watched me eat told me his mind had gone to the same place mine had.

“Stop.”

“You stop,” he shot back, and rightfully so. My brain had gone down a dirty path, and we’d end up naked in ten seconds flat if I gave in to these urges. Instead, I cleared my throat, shifted in my seat, and changed the subject.

“I say we get the groceries delivered.”

“Good idea.” Henry nodded at my suggestion then scooted his chair closer, pulling up the app on his phone and showing it to me. I shifted toward him, loving the homeyness of this moment as he asked me what I liked to eat and ordered ingredients accordingly.

I was going to love being spoiled by this man.

Chapter twenty-two

Henry

“So how did you discover you were gay at forty-three?”

Tristan’s completely out-of-the-blue question the next evening made me choke on the gouda and butter crackers I’d just snagged off the charcuterie board we were enjoying picnic-style by the fire in the second-floor living room. He instantly handed me my water goblet—we were going fancy tonight—and patted my back until my airway cleared.

Once I’d recovered, I playfully narrowed my eyes at him, and he fluttered his eyelashes and bit his lip, giving me the sweetest look I suspected he had.

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” Tris offered, his eyes low and voice appropriately contrite. “I didn’t realize you’d just taken a bite.”

I coughed one last time, took a final swig of water, and blinked through the last of my tears. Then I smiled at him. “I know, baby. You just . . .” Another cough. The other hadn’t been my final one, then. “You just caught me off guard.”

Tris rubbed my shoulder a few times, a frown on his face. “Are you okay?”

Clearing my throat, I adjusted my position from sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaned back against the front of the couch. Tristan moved opposite me, leaning his side against the coffee table. He slid his water glass to where I could reach it since I’d drained mine.

I couldn’t help myself; I reached out for him at his gesture, cupping his jaw in my hand. “Sweet boy. I’m fine now. Maybe check if I’m eating before you ask me my deepest, darkest secret?”

Tristan smirked. “Discovering you were gay is your deepest, darkest secret?”

Dropping my hand to the floor at my side, I pursed my lips and considered it. “Hmm, I guess you’re right. It’s certainly not a dark secret, and it’s not my biggest. But it’s pretty high on the list.”

Tristan nodded, pulling his knees up in front of him, ankles crossed, and wrapped his arms around his upper calves. “I’m listening, whatever you want to share.”

I nodded back. “Thank you, Tris.” I took a breath then just jumped right in. “Did you know I was married?”

Tris squinted. “Really?”

One corner of my mouth turned up. “Yeah. Her name was Carrie.”

Tris’s mouth dropped open. “You were married to a woman?”

I chuckled at his reaction. “I was. When all was said and done, we were married for almost twenty-two years.”

Tristan started blinking. “Wait . . . you were married . . . for twenty-two years . . . to a woman?!?”

I laughed a little harder. “Yes, Tris, I was married to a woman for over two decades.”

He paused a moment before asking the obvious next question. “And you’re not bi?”