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That was the understatement of the year.
“But… hypothetically… say I was willing to give all that up… would you… ever think about it?”
I remembered the freedom-loving, badass chick I’d fallen in love with, not the money- and power-hungry woman I’d divorced.
But even if I could have had her back the way she was the first day I’d met her, the idea no longer appealed to me.
My heart belonged to somebody else now.
“I’m in love with Fiona,” I said quietly.
I knew Sloane was hurt, but she tried to play it off. “Well, pff, YEAH – cause you’re a DUMBASS.”
I played along to let her save face. “Maybe.”
“Besides, it was just a hypothetical question.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t.
I guess we’d gotten too close to uncomfortable truths, because she abruptly said, “Alright… you take care of yourself, Jack.”
“You too, Sloane.”
Then she surprised me: “And… good luck with her. She doesn’t know how good she’s got it.”
“Thanks, Sloane. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket.
It felt good to leave that piece of the past behind me.
I imagined another piece of the past in my mind’s eye – the face of Lou Shaw, bloody and angry, his eyes staring at me.
That piece was behind me now, too.
“Burn in hell, you son of a bitch,” I muttered.
Then I went back inside, peeled off my jeans, and got back in bed.
This time I couldn’t resist getting right up next to that gorgeous body.
“Mmm,” she murmured sleepily, eyes closed, and smiled as I spooned her. “Where’d you go…?”
“Just stepped out for a second… but I’m not going anywhere else,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m staying right here.”
Her hand slipped down below my waist and lightly grabbed my cock… which began to immediately get hard.
“Good,” she purred.
182
Fiona
