“And then I’ll try and woo her into my web.” I shrugged. “She’s stayed with me before. I’ll get her to stay with me again.”
“Maybe,” he stated with such finality that I had to question it.
“Maybe?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’d love to be closer to you too, but I’m not uprooting my life here in the U.S. to do it. I love New York and my job too much.” He pushed his plate away, the damn thing near empty. I’d had the waiter wrap up mine. There was no way I was eating another bite.
“Damn.” I smiled. “I was going to work on you next.”
“Sorry, pal. My days of love, lass, and mate are long over.” He reached for the bill when it came, but I snatched it. “Alfie. Let me get it. You’re my guest.”
“No, I’m the loser of one exhausting round of golf.” I slipped my company card into the bill sleeve and handed it to the server.
“Well, if you spent more time outside of the office,” he started again, but I cut him off.
“I will.” I nodded as he clamped his mouth shut. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds.
“What? Really? It was that easy?” he snorted.
“Yep. I need to start feeding into other parts of my life if I want memories that are worth remembering when I get older. The first is Molly, and then after that, I’ll hire a few more people to help steer the company and alleviate me from working so much. That’ll free up time to golf, travel and even better yet—start a family.”
“Wow. That’s more like it.” He picked up his glass and threw the rest of the dark liquid inside of it back.
“All right. My session is up.” I gave him a knowing look. “Your turn. Where’s your woman, your retirement, and your plan for having a gaggle of kids?”
His eyes widened, and he stood. “Oh, hell no. We’re not going there tonight. Planning out your life was exhausting enough.”
“What?” I signed the check and stood as well. “I already had ninety percent of it done for you.”
“Yes, but the last ten percent…now, that was painful!”
We laughed as we walked out of the restaurant into the pleasant evening air. The day had been rejuvenating, but nothing compared to what tomorrow night held.
Pleasure. Release. Love.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Molly
The way mine and Alfie’s date ended the night before had my heart aching. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel, or much less do about everything swirling around me. I was a hot mess and didn’t have anything lined up for my future.
Nothing other than spending that night with Alfie. Funny enough, that seemed like a huge win. I had to force myself to stop thinking about everything and finally go to sleep. We would work it all out. We had to. I was already smitten with him, and I wasn’t losing another chance at love. Not with it sitting so close that I felt like I could reach out and grab it.
The next morning, I stared helplessly at my suitcase at the end of my bed with all my clothes torn out of it. I hadn’t brought more than a few outfits with me from London. A majority of my clothes were either in Harry’s flat in boxes still, or sitting at the London post office. I didn’t put it past Harry for them to send the boxes back because he knew it would take longer for them to reach the United States again.
I had nothing fancy to wear for tomorrow night with Alfie. The only reasonable thing I could think of was a simple black pencil skirt with a modest blouse and ballerina flats. I didn’t even have matching bras or panties.
Not that Alfie took notice of that before.
The center of my cheeks flared hotly at the thought. It’d been too long too since I had felt Alfie’s hands on me. My body was strung tightly with anticipation of having an entire night alone with him after a week of nothing but lingering touches and a kiss every once and a while.
I scooped up all the clothes with a resigned sigh before dumping them back into my suitcase. I’d have to ask Peyton if I could borrow a dress later. I was only an inch taller than her, so her dresses wouldn’t be uncomfortably short on me.
I busied myself with making breakfast and coffee while I waited for Peyton to wake up. She had vowed to take the day off for us to spend together, but also promised that sleeping in was high on her priority list.
The smell of bacon wafted through the kitchen. As I expected, Peyton appeared in a robe with bleary eyes as she took a seat at the breakfast bar with a groan. I grinned innocently as she shot me a dirty look.
“You know me too well,” she said. “That’s a dirty trick to get me out of bed—the smell of bacon and coffee.”