The question strikes like a dart to the ribs.
I shove a hand through my hair. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
A deep, knowing laugh rumbles through the speaker. “You’re the one who told me this thing felt different. Usually when a man says that, it means he’s already halfway gone.”
I rub the back of my neck, eyes on two menaces now sprawled across the rug. “Maybe I’m all the way gone. I told her I love her.”
“Ah.” The word stretches into static. “And did she say it back?”
My shoulders drop. “No. She smiled—the smile that makes me forget oxygen’s a thing—but, yeah. No words.”
He doesn’t rush to fill the silence. That’s what I like about Mont. He lets things hang until they mean something.
Finally, he answers, gentle but firm. “She heard you. Sometimes that’s enough. Women don’t always say it when they feel it. They say it when they’re ready for what comes after.”
“What do you mean, ready for what comes after?” I glance toward the window, light spilling across the floorboards.
“Maybe for her, the after is when this summer thing morphs into real life.”
Leaning back, I stare at the ceiling. “We’ve avoided real life. That was the deal.”
“Deals change.”
A dry laugh escapes me. “She’s younger, Mont. Eleven years younger. I didn’t think about that at first, but lately…”
“You’re worried you’re robbing her of something?”
“Maybe. Or that I’m too far ahead in life, and she’ll get tired of trying to keep up.”
“Listen.” His tone drops. “You wanna know how old Nora was when I met her?”
I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “No. But I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.”
“She was barely twenty. Temporary receptionist at the firm. Smart, quick with a comeback, and so damn beautiful, I forgot my own name.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Sounds familiar.”
“I was forty,” he continues. “Knew better than to mix business with temptation. But she was impossible to ignore. I took her to lunch to talk about her career aspirations. Told myself that’s all it was. Next thing I knew, we were having dinner, and she was telling me about her kid, Frankie, barely ayear old, wobbling like a penguin. Ex bailed when Nora was four months pregnant. Claimed he didn’t want to be tied down.”
I go still, listening harder.
“She was struggling,” he says quietly. “Doing it all on her own. By the time we got serious, I couldn’t imagine life withoutbothof them. Married Nora a year later. Adopted Frankie two months after that.” A soft chuckle fills my ear. “Biggest risk I ever took, best decision I ever made.”
Something tugs deep in my chest. “Guess you know a thing or two about age gaps, then.”
“I know they don’t matter if you’re both walking in the same direction. The question is—are you?”
My thumb traces the seam of the couch cushion. “Maybe. This whole thing started as a fling, but lately, I’ve been thinking past it. Past summer. Past work.”
A low hum of amusement rolls through the line. “Past work? That’s a first.”
“Yeah.” I glance out the window again, where sunlight ripples across the water. “Been doing a lot of thinking. Maybe too much. I keep wondering what it would feel like to slow down, take on less. I’m getting tired of measuring my life in spreadsheets and airports. Thinking about just focusing on my rental empire.”
Mont exhales slowly, a sound that means he understands. “You’ve earned the right to step back a little. In fact…” There’s a soft intake of breath, like he’s measuring his next words. “You know Frankie’s coming on board. Can you do the mentor thing till the end of this year?”
A smile edges into my voice. “You trying to pawn your protégé off onme?”
“Call it delegating. You’re a patient teacher, and Frankie could use someone who’s not afraid to push. What do you think?”
