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Ellie huffs and turns over to sulk herself to sleep. “Fine.”
Meeting Hannah in the living room, I ask, “Did Ellie give you trouble about brushing her teeth or,” this is going to get weird, “being her new mom?”
But she giggles. “She asked if I was going to be her new mom. I told her no, but that didn’t change the fact that she still had to brush her teeth.”
“I’m so sorry about that—
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Cargill. Kids ask awkward questions. It’s how they learn.” She shrugs.
After I get her paid and see her out the door, it’s just me and the quiet again. Only this time, I’m going to use the quiet and read a book. The silence is less lonely with a book and I’ve been meaning to try out my new Spanish leather reading chair in the den.
The den had been a present for me. Something to take my mind off of everything with Stacy. Walnut wood in all directions, with a small corner fireplace. Books lined the walls, and an Irish crystal whiskey decanter sits atop the side table. The perfect room for quiet contemplation.
I bet Autumn is bendy enough to do it in the chair…
The torture knew no bounds. I couldn’t stop thinking of her, not even after I picked up an old favorite book of mine. Sighing atMeditations of Marcus Aurelias,I give up and text Autumn. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I have to reach out, and it’s late, so I’m feeling bold.
“You up?”
Not a minute later, she sends, “We’ve known each other for over two decades, and I get a‘You up?’text?”
I roll my eyes and call, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake anyone. “Hey. You up?”
I laugh. “I was trying something. I don’t know what the kids say these days.”
“Okay, Grampa.”
“Better Grampa than Daddy. Never understood when women do the Daddy thing with a guy.”
She laughs. “Yeah, same.”
“So, what do you like to call a guy in bed?” Did I really just ask that?
“Depends. If we’re romantic, then usually baby or some other pet name. Or if he’s into it, his name. If we’re not romantic, then generally, I avoid names. Wouldn’t want to get it wrong.”
“Wow, there’s a whole science to it, huh?”
Another giggle, and there is just something about being able to amuse her that turns me on. What the hell is that about? She sighs. “What do you like to call a girl in bed?”
“Pretty much the same. Pet names, if we’re close. Her name if we’re not.”
“So, you’re in a mood tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not like you to ask a question like that. You usually get all weird about talking about sex.”
I shrug, feeling audacious since she answered the question. “Guess Iamin a mood. But since we’re on the topic, it occurs to me we know so much about each other, but we’ve never really dived into the question of what we like in bed. Doesn’t that seem like the kind of thing favorite friends should know about?”
“That’s true. You first. Tell me, Rowan, what turns you on?”
You. I take a breath to stop myself from saying it. “I like when a woman knows what she likes and isn’t afraid to tell me.”
“How do you mean?”
“For instance, if I’m going down on her and I’m not hitting the spot, I want to know. I’d love to say I’m some expert on the topic, and to be fair, I have done extensive research—"
She giggles again, but this time, it’s breathier.
