Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

“Does that mean you’re moving in?”

“That leads me to bullet point number two under Questions I Need to Ask: have you ever lived with a woman?”

“I see you’re not going to be easily deterred.”

“I’m learning from a pro.”

“Funny. Of course I’ve been in love and, yes, I’ve lived with a woman.”

My eyes drifted over his face as he looked back at me. He’d been in love, and he’d lived with another woman. For thirty-five years old, it wasn’t surprising news, but it somewhat eased my worries about his ability to commit.

“If you want,” he said, “I’ll tell you all about them, but it’s completely inconsequential in my mind. I’ve loved two girls aside from you. We separated amicably, but we don’t keep in touch. And though I believed I loved them at the time, I didn’t know the meaning of love until I met you.”

My lips twisted. “That sounds like a line.”

“I know, but it’s the truth. I loved them differently than I love you. And certainly a great deal less.”

“That’s really sweet. Thanks.”

“I’m not trying to be sweet. You asked, and that’s my answer.”

“Noted,” I said, stifling a smile. “So you’re not afraid of living with a girl? Hair products, tampons, constant company, sharing your bed . . . . You’re okay with all of that?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Now that we’re on the same page, I mean, I would understand if you wanted to slow down a little bit. I could get my own place for a while, and we could date until we’re ready to take the next step.”

“How long is a while?”

“I have no idea, a year, maybe?”

“A year?” he barked, piercing the quietude.

“Shh,” I said. “That’s usually how long a lease is.”

“No. Absolutely not. Is that what you want?”

“I want this relationship to work.”

“It’s never going to work with you keeping one foot out the door, Olivia.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” I reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere. I just don’t want to spook you by moving too fast.”

“You’re projecting. You think I want

something that I don’t. It makes me wonder if that’s what you want.”

I smiled and slid my hand over his jeans. “Okay.”

“Listen, this isn’t my first relationship as you seem to think.” He lowered his voice and leaned in marginally. “I know what I want, and it’s you; falling asleep next to me every night, waking up with me every morning. I actually don’t like having you out of my sight ever.”

“Well, it’s not exactly possible to keep tabs on me all the time,” I said.

“You’re telling me. I’ve tried to think of how I might without scaring you or ending up in prison.”

I laughed. “You are so extreme.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

“And work.”

“Up until now it’s been my priority.”

I rubbed his leg. “I’m glad you do what you love.”

“I do, but at the end of the day, it’s still a job.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I would still do it, even if I stopped loving it.”

“Why?”

“Wealth, prestige. It allows me this lifestyle.”

“Lifestyle?” I asked with wide eyes.

“Yes.”

“Is that important to you?”

“Of course. I’ll never be the type of man to leave my family wanting.”

“Baby, your happiness is a million times more important to me than ‘lifestyle.’ I know you feel the same about me.”

“I do,” he said softly. “I’m lucky because I love it, but security is important to me. I want you to have everything you want.”

“I do,” I assured him as I melted into my seat. “If it all went away tomorrow, but I still had you, I wouldn’t be any less happy.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I refuse to find out.”

“I’m just saying,” I said, reaching out and brushing my fingers over his hairline, “it’s not important to me.”

He grabbed my hand before I could withdraw and kissed my palm. “So you wouldn’t mind if I gave up my place in San Sebastián? And we didn’t go to Spain?”

“I know you’re teasing me, but no, I wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s right, you hate vacation,” he said with a small smile.

“Well,” I said. “I mean, hate isn’t really the right – if you want to take me – ”

“Believe me, gorgeous, you will not hate our vacation. I want to take you to Spain, and I want to take you soon.”

I sighed. “I would love that if I could ever get the time off.”

“Don’t you have vacation days?”

“Beman doesn’t like us to take them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.”

“Of course he can’t prohibit it, but I don’t need additional reasons to piss him off.”

“Can’t say that I love how he treats you.”

I shrugged. “He’s my boss.”

“I can excuse his being demanding, but I can’t excuse him being a dick. Do you like the new position you’re in?”

“I like it fine.”

“But you don’t love it,” he stated.

“Like you said, it’s a job.”

“How about doing some writing? You liked it once; you might find you like it again.”

I sighed again. Memory of an elephant, this guy. “I do write sometimes.”

“I know. I’ve read some stuff on the Chicago M website.”

“I’m better at editing.”

“You can be good at both,” he pointed out. “And what I read was excellent.”

“You think that because I’m sleeping with you. And how can you tell from a few stupid articles?”