The day I told Banks about the photo helped me to see that I could let go of some of my past hurts. That I can move forward even when it’s scary. “I think…maybe I’m ready.”
Chloe fights off a grin. Bridget smiles proudly. “What are you going to do about it?” Bridget asks.
“You’d better not move to LA,” Chloe chides.
I scoff. “Like I could move.”
“So what then?” Bridget presses.
“I really don’t know, but I think maybe when the film is over, we can explore…something.”
“Sounds like you’re already exploring lots of things,” Chloe says with an arch of her brow.
I laugh, relieved for the levity, and then I drink to that. I feel better that I was honest with them. But there’s someone else I need to speak the truth to as well, and it’s not my sister. It’s the man himself. “He’s got a lot riding on this job, so I’ll wait to talk to him about what’s next.” I smile. “I’m very patient.”
We finish our glasses and then leave, with Wanda taking me back to the farm. As I walk to the cottage, I set aside thoughts of the future and focus on the now, assembling a plan.
A redo.
I picture the outfit I’ll wear. Well, after I shower since…sweat is gross. I imagine what I’ll say. How it might feel.
But when I open the door to get ready for Banks, he’s already here. And it looks like he’s paid a visit to quite a number of local shops to satisfy our DIY sex toy habit.
37
A SMORGASBORD
RIPLEY
It’s a sex toy buffet. “Can I have one of everything?” I ask as I survey the offerings on the coffee table.
“You can have everything,” Banks says, standing by like a proud…charcuterist creator? Potluck purveyor? Who knows, but the man has outdone himself with his selection of unconventional toys. I pick up the first one, inspecting it, then dangling the stick with the stuffed fake blue bird at the end. “You stopped by a pet store?”
“Don’t knock it. Those fake feathers look pretty soft,” he says.
I run the baby-blue faux feathers over my palm. “Cats have the right idea,” I say, but there’s one issue. “Though I might feel a little weird using a pet toy in bed.”
“Fair enough.”
I set it down and pick up the next option. A silky pink ribbon, long and curling. “Paid a visit to the craft store?”
“I was a busy boy.”
I rub my fingers against the material, then hum approvingly. “It’s silky,” I say, then drag it over the top of my chest. “Very silky.”
His eyes widen as I demonstrate.
Next, I pick up the synthetic feather duster and run it down my arm. My breath catches. But I frown. “I’m not sure I’m ready to come to terms with getting aroused by a cleaning tool. But I would definitely love to watch you do dishes and fold laundry someday because that sounds unspeakably hot.”
He leans in, cups my cheek, and plants a quick, firm kiss to my lips. “Just wait till you see what I can do with fitted sheets.”
“You can fold fitted sheets?” I ask breathily, my chest already heaving.
“Perfectly,” he says in a husky promise.
I nibble on the corner of my lips. “I’m not sure we need toys then. Knowing that is foreplay enough.”
He grabs my ass, then hauls me against him for a deeper kiss. When he breaks it, he says, “Get on the bed, sweetheart.”
