But we don’t say it. Not yet.
Instead, I tug her t-shirt over her head and toss it behind the couch. The shorts go next, and there on the couch, with the sun streaming in through the window, we have the slowest, most intimate afternoon of sex. I roll her on her back and hold my weight above her, desperate to remember the bits and pieces that seem so fleeting: the feel of her fingertips skating down the backs of my arms, the delicate softness of her neck as she arches up and whispers my name, her heels digging into my lower back, her skin so flushed that she looks almost burned by our lovemaking.
“Madeleine?” I whisper her name.
She’s collapsed on top of me, napping, and I don’t think she’s awake, but I want her to be.
“Hmmm?” she hums lazily.
I love you.
Move in with me.
Marry me.
The silence drones on and she blinks her eyes open, folds her hands, and props her chin right there on my chest.
“You know you haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet.”
I laugh at the absurdity of it considering the thoughts spiraling through my mind. “I haven’t?”
“No. You announced it to your mom, but you never asked me.”
My fingers are tracing a loose pattern on her naked back. “Madeleine, c’mon. You’re my girlfriend.”
She smiles, and maybe for right now, this is enough.
“They’re going to miss me at the singles events. I was the life of the party.”
“I bet.”
“And I’ll have to cancel my accounts on all the dating apps.”
“I want to see your profile first.”
“Why?”
“So I can judge your pics and your bio. What did it say?”
She looks away. “I don’t remember.”
I grin. “Yes you do.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Buxom brunette bombshell seeks billionaire to fix her financial woes. Millionaires need not apply.”
“Madeleine…”
“Sexy real estate agent wants to show you her 1-bedroom.”
“These are coming too easily to you.”
“Sex robot seeks first real human emotion.”
I groan.
“Okay fine, here’s the real one: Adorably dysfunctional twenty-something seeks handsome veterinarian. Serious offers only.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MADELEINE
Three months later, I’m in Adam’s kitchen, scrambling to leave for work on time. I have on one high heel, and my hair is still up in curlers. My coffee sits cold and forgotten on the counter.
“Here, eat this,” Adam says, passing me a bowl of granola and yogurt. Fresh cut strawberries are sprinkled across the top. Life update: my granola no longer comes in bar form.
“I don’t have time!”
He wraps his arm around my waist and keeps me pinned against him.
“Three bites. It’s good for you.”
I groan like it’s really a bother that he makes me breakfast and then force-feeds me. The struggle!
“I even added blueberries,” he says, patting me on the ass on his way to feed Molly and Mouse. The two lovers are sitting very patiently by their food bowls, waiting for their morning scoop.
I take a few massive bites of granola and then drop the bowl in the sink. “I’ll wash it later, I swear!”
He laughs because he knows it’s not true. In this relationship, Adam got the short straw in every arena. I’m a terrible roommate. I’m messy by nature. I don’t cook very often or very well, and if I had it my way, our shoes would stay in one big pile right beside the front door. It just makes sense, in my opinion.
“What time will you be home tonight?” Adam calls from the hallway.
I’m yanking curlers out as fast as possible and then brushing out my hair so I’m left with soft, simple waves.
“Maybe five? It depends how long this showing with Mr. Boggs lasts. He might keep me out of the office all morning.”
He groans. “C’mon. I thought you told me last week you were done showing him properties.”
“I am! I swear, after this time, I won’t let him sweet-talk me anymore!”
“Why don’t I believe that?” he shouts from the other room.
Because I’ve said the same thing every week for the last few months. I can’t help it. I have a soft spot for Mr. Boggs—a soft spot for every tough client at the agency, really. Lori is still the top-selling agent, but I’ve completed two sales in the last month, and they were both with clients no one else wanted. I have the patience for it, and I think it pays off.
“Don’t forget,” I shout. “Lucas and Daisy are coming over for dinner tonight so we can do the gender reveal for their baby!”
It’s a girl. I knew as soon as Daisy knew. She called me the second she found out, but it’ll be fun to see Adam’s expression when they reveal it over dinner.
He steps into the bathroom and finishes buttoning his shirt. “I’m going to make my lasagna.”
I groan in pleasure. “Yes. How many layers?”
“Nine.”
“Ohhhmahgah…” I drool.
“Maybe even ten,” he says, lowering his voice suggestively.
“Stop it, Adam.” I moan. “I don’t have time to change my panties.”
“Well in less-sexy news, I need you to make the salad. The vinaigrette is already done. I made it this morning.”
“So basically you trust me with slicing vegetables and mixing them together?”
“Basically. Maybe we’ll sign up for a cooking class when we have the time.”
I lean toward the mirror and swipe on my lipstick, meeting his gaze. “Or we could just get delivery and have sex every night?”
He smiles. “Wise woman.”
I smack my lips together and then dash into our shared walk-in closet (the closet!) to retrieve my other shoe. Molly loves to drag them around the house. She doesn’t chew on them, just displaces them. The Great Displacer, we call her. Fortunately, this time my high heel is waiting for me right where it should be—a rare occurrence in this house.
“Did you talk to Mr. Hall about canceling your lease?” Adam asks.
“Yeah. He took it like I expected he would.”
“Hardly concealed elation?”
I laugh. “Exactly. He didn’t even enforce the need for a 60-day-notice. I think he’s scared I’ll change my mind and want to stay.”
I slip on my shoe and head back out into the bathroom. Adam is dressed for work in gray slacks and a white button-down. Sometimes, if he’s operating, he’ll go in wearing scrubs, but not today. Today, I get the full Dr. Foxe effect—something I’m still not quite used to.
“What?” he asks when I can’t peel my eyes away.
“Nothing.”
He grins. “You have that look in your eye.”
“I just like when you dress like that, that’s all.”
“If you get home by 4:45, I’ll seduce you before we start prepping dinner.”
I wink. “You have yourself a deal.”
I step closer and kiss him goodbye, but I don’t get too close or he’ll make me late. I run out of the bathroom promising to be back at 4:45 PM on the dot then it’s a mad dash to the front door. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Boggs at the first showing in fifteen minutes and I don’t want him to start out in a bad mood. I pat Molly and Mouse, promise to throw them the ball later, and then I’m out the door.
“Madeleine!” Adam shouts after me as I’m running down the front path. “Love you!”