Fulfillment(121)

Rick walked over casually and pulled out a chair opposite me. “The time has come, has it?”

“Yeah, Rick, it has.” I slid them across the table to him.

He grabbed his reading glasses from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

I laughed. “You still put them there? They don’t belong in the fruit bowl.”

He looked up at me over the rim. “I always know where they are, that’s why I put them there.”

I shook my head.

He dropped his gaze back down to the papers in front of him, studying their content with precision. I took that moment to take him in, noticing how much he had changed in the past year, not just mentally but physically. He now wore his dark brown hair a little longer, taking a few years off his age. His 5 o’clock shadow was clean shaven and he’d toned up, looking a lot healthier overall.

He looked up over the reading glasses’ rims again, displaying a mischievous smirk. “Having second thoughts?”

“What?” I said, snapping out of my Rick analysis. I lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “No. I’m not having second thoughts, smartarse. I was just taking in how good you look, how healthy and happy you seem.”

“You look good, too.”

I scoffed. “Separating has done wonders for us, hasn’t it? Maybe we weren’t as good for each other as we thought we were.”

“Lexi, we were good for each other.”

I looked down at my keys which I still had looped over my finger. I found the key to the house and started removing it from the ring. “Rick, are you happy...honestly?”

He took his glasses off his face and placed them on top of the papers. “Yes, Lexi, I’m happy. Claire is great. She’s matured and she really does love me. I’m lucky to have her after the way I treated her. And RJ? Well...he is just awesome, he’s so good and sweet...and...he’s just perfect. Nate and Charli are happy and healthy and they obviously really like Bryce. He seems to really like them, too—”

“He loves them.” I interrupted, correcting him.

“Yeah, I can see that. I can also see just how much he loves you. I could never compete with that.”

“Rick, it was never a competition. I loved you. I loved you very much, but there was just something missing in our marriage, and I think you can agree with me in saying that we didn’t realise that until we had no choice but to realise it.”

“No, you’re right, I do realise that. I loved you, too. I still do. I always will. But you deserved a much greater love than what I could give you, and I truly am happy that Bryce is the one that can give it to you. Believe it or not, I do respect the fucker.”

I laughed. “Funny, that. I think in a weird fucked up way he respects you too.”

Rick shook his head in amusement. “Okay,” he said as he put his glasses back on and collected all the papers into a bunch, tapping them on the table then lying them back down again. “Let’s get this shit signed.”





CHAPTER THIRTY

The last time I was in a private jet, I was flying back home from spending the most amazing few days in Uluru with Bryce. The jet I was standing in at this moment, however, was slightly bigger. In fact, it was much bigger and much more private. When I stepped into this aircraft I noticed it was not an open plan like the one we were in last time, this one had walls and rooms.

As I made my way inside, I was met with a sitting area containing chocolate brown-coloured leather seats, a table in between them and a flat screen TV. There was also a three-seater sofa against the plane’s side that spanned the length of that particular room. I continued my inspection, opening the door ahead of me and walking into a spacious master bedroom with an inviting queen sized bed, a wardrobe, drawers and a desk with another chocolate-coloured leather seat. It was indulgently decadent, that decadence rolling into the large bathroom.

“Wow! Just wow!” I muttered, stunned. I had no idea an aircraft like this existed, it was basically a luxury motel room with wings.

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” Bryce replied with a deliciously handsome smile.

I turned to him, my hand finding my hip. “You’re so fucking arrogant at times.”

He smirked at me then pulled me onto the bed, securing me on top of him. “Admit it. You love it when I’m arrogant.”

I shook my head and pursed my lips. “No, I don’t. It makes me mad.” I lied. He is hot—arrogantly hot.

He raised his eyebrow in amusement. “I like it when you’re mad.”

“Do you just?”

“I do.”

I dropped my arms and fell to his chest, my lips landing against his. He ran his hands up the sides of my face and into my hair then he swiftly rolled me onto my back, pinning me to the bed.