Dear Bridget, I Want You(37)

“I’m gonna save it, actually.” He winked.





Brendan was practically asleep on the ride home. It had been a late night for him.

I tucked my son into bed as soon as we got back to the house.

While I was with Brendan, Simon had cracked open a bottle of wine and was sipping it in the kitchen when I made my way over to him.

I grabbed the glass from him and took a long sip then licked my lips. His gaze was fixated on my mouth.

Our eyes locked.

I wanted him.

The alcohol I’d consumed was making the need worse.

“Your being there tonight really meant a lot to me, Simon. And you shouldn’t have insisted on paying for dinner.”

Simon took the wine from me. “It was the least I could do. I hadn’t had a chance to get you a present, seeing as though someone was trying to hide her birthday from me.”

“Well, I’m no spring chicken anymore. I don’t advertise this day.”

He took a sip. “You’re thirty-four. That’s not old. In fact, I find the slightly older woman thing to be quite a fucking turn-on.”

The last time my kitchen felt this hot, there was an actual fire.

He moved closer to me to the point where I could feel his words while he spoke and could smell the wine on his breath. “In your letter, you mentioned—among other things that shall not be named—that you were scared I wouldn’t want you once I saw your body. You’re forgetting that I have seen you, more than you probably realize. I got quite an eyeful that first day I walked in on you on the bathroom floor. All the things that you probably think are negatives are actually the things that I find the most sexually arousing: your luscious, plump arse, the slight feminine curve of your stomach, your soft, natural tits. And on top of those things… your eyes—they slay me. Despite everything you’ve been through, they still shine with hope and wonder, whether you realize it or not. You’re beautiful, Bridget. Absolutely fucking beautiful and don’t ever believe otherwise.”

I wasn’t even sure if I had any breath left in my body. It felt like he’d taken it all with those words. But he hadn’t, because all of the air within me only became depleted the moment he looked down at the floor then back up at me and whispered, “I wasn’t expecting you, either, you know.”

Simon placed his wine glass down on the counter and took something out of his back pocket.

It was his fortune from tonight. He smacked it down on the granite then said, “Happy birthday.”

I stood there and watched as he then left to go back to his room.

The small strip of paper was taunting me. I picked it up and read it.

The greatest risk is not taking one.





I’d just taken off my shirt to get ready for bed. When I turned around, the sight of Bridget leaning in my doorway was completely unexpected. Her eyes were fixated on my naked torso, and I noticed she had my fortune in her hand. She swallowed before speaking.

“I might not have wanted you to read my letter, but I meant everything I wrote in it.”

I took a few tentative steps toward her. “Like wanting me?” I didn’t need to hear her say the words to know—I was certain she wanted me. Her eyes and body language had told me that from the first time I met her. Yet I wanted to hear her say them aloud—to accept that it was okay for her to want me.

She looked down. A pink blush tinted her beautiful skin when she looked up. “Yes. I want you more than anything that I’ve ever wanted in my life. Honestly, it scares me how much I’m attracted to you.”

Those words were exactly what I wanted to hear, yet I knew there was a but coming. “Can we just stop there, and I’ll tell you the feeling is mutual? Because I have a feeling whatever you say from this point on, I’m not going to like as much.”

She smiled sadly. “What happens when your residency is over, Simon? Where will you go?”

I nodded, knowing what she was getting at. “Back to England. It’s my home, Bridget. Living here has never felt anything but temporary for me.”

“And do you want to have a family someday?”

I looked down and shook my head. “No. I don’t”

“It’s true that the greatest risk may be not taking one. But a risk is taking a chance when you have the potential to gain or lose something in the future. When that future is certain that you’re going to lose that something—it’s not taking a risk, Simon. It’s jumping out of a plane without a parachute and expecting to land on your feet anyway.”

Of course, she was right. As much as I didn’t want to hear it, deep down, I knew she was doing the right thing—for both of us. I wanted her so badly that I couldn’t focus—but it wouldn’t just be sex with us. Even I knew that much. “I understand.”