Chapter Thirteen
Roughly thirty-six hours later, we were moved in — albeit without most of our personal things. Those would arrive in a few days.
Bradley undressed as I lay in bed, having already headed there not long before he got home from work, and I observed him. As he stripped down to his boxers and prepared to join me, I grimaced when he moved to get a drink.
“Why do you do that every night?”
He didn’t pause, pouring his drink, turning to me with it in hand as he answered, “It’s habit, I suppose. Plus, I like it.”
“When did you start doing it, for it to become a habit?”
Walking over to the bed, he placed the drink on the nightstand and slid under the covers. “Fifteen, maybe sixteen years ago. Hard to recall, but I started having a drink after work, if my shift ended in the evening. I don’t drink at any other time.”
“So it’s a comfort?”
He didn’t answer, seeking my nude body with his hands, before covering it with his own form. Without saying anything else, he kissed my neck, then slid down until the comforter covered his head as he lavished my nipples with some personal attention, alternating between his fingers and his mouth.
I ran my fingers through his hair, sighing with both pleasure at his touch and frustration at his lack of an answer, as he slid a hand down my stomach and between my legs.
“Bradley?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m not really in the mood.”
His fingers stopped their exploration. Moments later, he surfaced from beneath the blanket and looked down at my face with a rueful smile. “Over two years and this is the first time you’ve ever denied me. I suppose there’s a first for everything.”
Rolling away, he sat up and finished his drink, then opened the drawer of the nightstand. I smiled when he pulled out a book and turned on the lamp.
“It’s been a long few days, that’s all.”
“You should get some rest.”
I liked how he didn’t care. Or, if he did, he didn’t let it show. But I wasn’t ready for his hands not to be on me yet, so I improvised. “Will you rub my back?”
He didn’t even hesitate as he placed the book next to the bed. “Turn over.”
I did instantly, shocked he was actually going to do it. Not once had I ever asked for a back rub from him — actually, I never asked for anything, but apparently I should’ve spread my wings a little.
As I lay on my stomach, he tossed the blanket aside and straddled my hips, placing his hands on my shoulders and massaging them. When he squeezed, I didn’t expect it to hurt, but it did. I had my hands above my head, so I gripped the sheets as a hiss escaped.
“I felt that.”
I didn’t bother to ask, as I felt my body give way to his ministrations. His hands slid from there to my back, pushing, prodding, and soothing. Little by little, I relaxed until my eyes drifted shut. The bed shifted, and then, a soft kiss landed on my lower back.
“Lucy?”
I couldn’t respond with more than a moan as I drifted off.
“My drink is, and always has been, a comfort. But having you here next to me is a pretty nice comfort too.”
That’s the last thing I remembered him saying as I passed out with his hands still rubbing me.
~*~
Bradley’s in his office the following Saturday when I walk in, mail in hand.
He looked up as I sat his on his desk, then lifted the five pieces of mail for me from what I recognize to be his bank and his credit card company, and hold them close enough for him to see.
“What are these?”
“Looks like mail for you.” Turning his gaze back to his computer, he says, “Thanks for bringing me the mail. I’ll be out for lunch in a bit.”
“Bradley.” When he ignored me, I put down four envelopes and open one, my mouth dropping open as I see the contents. “What the hell do I need this for?”
Sighing, he put down his pen and turned in his chair to face me. “You’re my wife, and therefore, you need access to funds. That means you were added as a user on all my accounts.”
“But, this is a credit card.” I held it up and pointed to the figure on the paper with a stab of my finger. “Seventy-thousand dollar limit? Who needs that kind of money?”
Laughing, he pulled the paper out of my hand and placed it on his desk, then sat me on his lap. “It’s not about needing it; it’s about having it available even if you don’t use even a fraction of it.”
“What? Why would you have it and not use it? What’s the point?”
He laughed at my question. “Have you never used credit?”
“No. Why would I need it? I never bought anything I couldn’t pay for in cash.”
“Well, technically I could too, but credit gives me the ability to show lenders I’m trustworthy in case I ever need a loan for a house or something else.”
My mouth dropped open, and I asked the one question I hadn’t even thought to ask him before now. “How much do you earn a year, Bradley, that someone gives you a seventy-thousand dollar credit limit?”
He picked up one of the envelopes and handed it to me. “Before I answer your question, open this one.”
“Uhm, okay.” I did as requested, only to gasp and stare at him wide-eyed. “This is a check for ten-thousand dollars. To me.”
“Yes, it is. I know you closed your account because they don’t have a branch anywhere near here, and opened a new one, but I didn’t have your details to do an electronic transfer. You’ll receive that every month.”
He had to be kidding. “Every…month…? You’re not serious!”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I reached over and opened the rest of the mail: another credit card with an insane limit, a debit card which I assumed went to his bank account, and in the final envelope, papers detailing his life insurance that now had Annalina and I listed as his beneficiaries.
“Wow,” I muttered. “You thought of everything, didn’t you? I don’t even know what to say.”
Chuckling, he pulled the papers from my hands and placed them on his desk, then kissed me before saying, “As for what I earn…the average for orthopedic spine surgeons is about three-quarters of a million a year. I make a little above a million a year myself, but only bring home about half after taxes, investing and charity. However, my investments make me a good amount of money, as well.”
“Holy shit.” I shook my head. “I can’t even…” Pointing at the cards, I frowned. “I don’t want them.”
“You don’t get a choice.” He softened his statement with a smile. “I have given them to you and you will take them because it matters to me that you have them. Don’t use the cards if you don’t want to. Put the money in your bank because it’s yours. Save it, spend it, or give it away — whatever you want, it’s yours to do with what you like.”
“Spend it? How in the world would I spend ten-thousand dollars a month?” I threw my hands up in the air, unable to comprehend how he couldn’t see his suggestion as a problem. “What could I possibly buy that I don’t already have?”
He brought a hand up and held my chin between two fingers to make sure he had my attention, then said, “Try to do it. Find a hobby, buy yourself a wardrobe, get your daughter something she’s always wanted, and perhaps even your mother.” When I shook my head again, he laughed. “I don’t spend a lot of money. I’ve always been very careful, and I’m well-off because of it. I’m telling you to do it once just because, and after that, I’m sure you’ll end up saving most of it which is a pretty smart thing to do anyway.”
“Um, sure.” He released me and I stood up, grabbing the cards and paper off his desk before heading to the door.
“Lucy?”
I stopped in my tracks and looked at him over my shoulder, where I found him smiling. “Yes?”
“The wardrobe wasn’t a request. You will need new clothing, especially dresses for business events and the like, so make sure you get those at the very least.”
He turned back to the desk before I could even glare at him properly, leaving me with nothing else to do except leave the room and contemplate how the hell I could possibly spend five-grand on the things he said, let alone ten.