“Adele, I am almost thirty years old and I’ve lived my life from one party to the next and one woman to the next. I thought it was what I wanted… always. I’ve avoided serious relationships like the plague. Our relationship is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a woman. The thing I found most strange about it was that over time I found myself being more comfortable here at home than at a party, or with a woman. I realized after a while… only recently actually, that it was because I’m in love with you and like you said earlier about Seth, being with you feels like being home.”
His handsome face was blurred by the tears that were in my eyes. Why didn’t I see it? Was I so wrapped up in my own drama that I couldn’t see what my best friend was going through? “Oh Grant! I’m so sorry.”
He laughed and leaned across the table to wipe a tear off my face. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Just like I can’t help the way I feel, you can’t help the way I feel. None of it is your fault. But, you know what the bottom line is?”
“What?”
“I want you to be happy. In all the time I’ve known you I have never seen you as content as you are now. I know the whole business thing has been a struggle, and Seth’s father… but even with all of that going on when you talk about him, you have a light in your eyes. That’s what I want for you. I always knew it wouldn’t be me that put that light there, no matter how badly I would have liked to. I’m a big boy, I can handle it. A guy has to get shot down at least once in his life, right?” He was smiling again, hiding behind his shield of feigned self-confidence.
I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I just got up and hugged him. I loved him so much… just not the same way I loved Seth. He seemed to understand that, and be okay with it. That made me love him that much more.
~
CHAPTER FIVE
~
ADELE
Grant and I talked for a long time and I told him how James had apologized to me and how he’d actually been willing to help us. The more I talked and he listened, the more I was able to see that he was sincere when he said he only wanted me to be happy. He was such an amazing man. I wished that he could meet a woman just as amazing. He deserved to be happy too. I finally pulled myself away and got in the shower around four-thirty. I got to Seth’s house a little before six p.m. I hated admitting it, but the house itself still intimidated me a little bit. It had been a long time since I’d grown up that little rich girl in the big house. Since then, I’d learned what it was like to struggle and I knew first-hand how lucky people who lived in houses like this one were.
After several outfit changes I had settled on a tan skirt that came to my knees and a light brown sweater. I left my hair down, because Seth liked it that way and when I rang the bell of his townhouse, I felt a tickle of anticipation to see him, although it hadn’t been ten hours since I’d seen him last. It was those types of things that made me realize just how much he meant to me. He opened the door and the first thing I saw were those sexy blue eyes. He was wearing a navy blue polo shirt and jeans. I loved him in a suit, but him in a pair of jeans left me speechless. He smiled and I could see how happy he was to see me. He made my heart swell in my chest.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “Come in. What do you have there?”
“I brought wine to go with our dinner. I didn’t know what we were having, so I brought white and red,” I told him, handing him the two bottles. He laughed.
“We’re having chicken, so technically, we could go either way.” He led me into the kitchen. I loved the big granite countertops and the deluxe, industrial sized oven. Sometimes when I thought seriously about moving in with him, I imagined myself cooking a meal for us here. “What can I do to help?” I asked him.
He handed me a knife and turned me in the direction of the chopping block. Then as if on second thought, he turned me back around and took me into his arms. He looked at me with equal parts love and desire in those beautiful eyes before he covered my mouth with his in an urgent, hungry kiss. As usual, when our lips crushed together, I felt like I was floating. Kissing him was magic, and his lips fit perfectly against mine. His mouth was so warm and the caresses of his lips so soft that my own lips fell open of their own accord. He tasted me like I was a rare piece of sweet chocolate and as if it had a mind of its own, a low moan escaped from my lips.
When we came up for air I said, “Wow that was… wow!” He smiled, still panting a little bit.
“Yeah, it was,” he said. Then just like that, he spun me back towards the chopping block. He’d laid out a variety of vegetables and a sharp-looking knife. “I’m so shaky after that kiss, I don’t know if you want to hand me a knife.”
“Take your time,” he said. “I haven’t even got the chicken ready to grill yet.” He reached into the big refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container with two huge chicken breasts inside. Then he reached back in and grabbed another one. The second one had some kind of marinade sauce in it and he slathered it across the chicken.
“What kind of sauce is that?” I asked him.
“It’s a smoky marinade. It’s an old family recipe.”
“What’s in it?”
“I’m sorry. It’s a secret recipe. If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
I laughed, “I guess it’s good I have a knife to protect myself.” He picked up a knife of his own with a serrated edge. It was about six inches long. He held it over the chicken and then gave a wink in my direction.
“I’ve got one too and I know how to use it.”
Once he finished slathering the chicken, he took them over to the built-in-grill and laid them on top. They began to sizzle right away and he adjusted the heat. He looked so comfortable and confident here. No one would look at him and guess he would command a kitchen the way he did. I’m sure most people looked at him and imagined him commanding the bedroom.
“This is not really fair,” I told him. “You said, cook, not grill.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Nope. My dad used to say that grilling was man’s work.”
He smiled, “It is a delicate job. I’m not sure a woman would be cut out for it…”
“Again, remember that I have a knife.” He laughed again and busied himself with the chicken while I chopped the vegetables. I realized how much I liked this… being domestic with him. Once the problems with Taylor Corp. were over, I wanted to do this every night. As I was chopping, a long curl fell down across my forehead and into my eyes. I reached up and tried to push it back with the inner part of my wrist. I had the juice from the tomato I had just cut on my hands. Seth saw me struggling and came over to hand me a dish towel. I took it and as I wiped my hands he took the curl and twisted it lightly around his finger before tucking it behind my ear. It was another simple act of intimacy and I loved it. I finished chopping the lettuce and tomato and then moved onto the cucumber while Seth checked on the meat.
When his chicken and my salad were finished, he took a roasting pan out of the oven. He had roasted red potatoes and I have to say, I was duly impressed. I set the table and he poured us both a glass of wine when we sat. The table sat in front of a large bay window that looked out over the East River. The trees were just beginning to change colors and it was like looking at an artist’s pallet with the yellows and oranges and even some red. It was perfect.
I took a bite of the chicken and I was doubly impressed. “Oh my goodness, Seth! That’s amazing. Who would have thought that a rich boy from the Hamptons could cook like this?”
He smiled. He knew I was kidding. He took a bite of his salad and mimicking me, he closed his eyes as he chewed and said, “That is the best salad I’ve ever tasted. The vegetables were chopped just right.”
“You’re hilarious,” I told him.
“I know,” he said with another grin. He took a drink of his wine and said, “So, tell me something that I don’t know about you.”
“Hmm, I think you kno
w it all,” I said.
“What about music?” he said.
“I can’t carry a tune on my back,” I said with a smile.
“You’re hilarious too. What kind of music do you like?”
“I like it all,” I told him.
“Great, I just bought some fantastic hip hop CD’s I thought we could listen to tonight.”
I think my face gave away what I was thinking because before I said anything, he laughed. “Oh good, you were kidding,” I said.
“So, you don’t like it all. What do you like best? At your wedding, what song do you picture them playing?”
“The wedding march,” I said.
“You’re incorrigible. I was going to play you something on the piano tonight but…”
“Oh no! Please play for me!”
“What kind of music?”
“I like classical,” I told him. “I love it, in fact. But, most people say that’s odd for a woman my age.”
“That’s not odd at all. I love it too,” he said.
“I knew we were made for each other.”
“And that’s my cue,” he said, sliding down off his chair to the floor. Before I knew what was happening, he was on one knee and he had a tiny velvet box in his hand. “Adele Morgan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Um… I was not expecting this…”
“We don’t have to do it today, or tomorrow, or next week. I just want to wake up every morning knowing that someday… you’ll be my wife.”
“Someday? Like maybe… next year?” My head was spinning. I loved him and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I also knew we had gotten off to a very rocky start and things would need to be a lot smoother before I could commit to that.
“Next year?” he said, making a face. “How about six months?”
“I don’t want to get married in March,” I said. It just came out and then I realized something. I did want to marry him. I could see it in my head. I had seen it in my dreams already. “How about May?” I said.
He smiled and his dimples creased and my heart skipped a beat. This man loved me and wanted me to be his wife. “So is that a yes?” he asked.
“Most definitely,” I told him.
~
CHAPTER SIX
~
ADELE
All I had thought about after that moment was that May is the perfect season for a wedding. I spent my first full day back at work being stopped in the hall by people who noticed the ring and wanted to congratulate me. The only way someone would have not noticed the ring would be if I walked around with my hand in my pocket all day. It was beautiful, antique gold with a five carat chocolate diamond in the center of the setting. Like everything else about my life at that moment, it was perfect. Sometimes I caught myself staring adoringly at it when I was supposed to be doing something else, but I did put it in my pocket for one certain occasion… I had to tell Grant.
I let Seth know that Friday night that I needed to stay at my own place and do that. I needed to tell him before he saw the ring, or heard us talking about it. When he got home from work that evening, I was already there with a bottle of wine and two glasses. When he saw them out on the table he said, “Uh-oh.”
“What do you mean, “uh-oh?” Don’t you like to come home after a long day to your best friend and a bottle of wine?”
He stripped off his jacket and tie and said, “I love it. But I know my best friend. A bottle of wine means good news… or bad. I guess lately I’m just a negative nelly.”