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It was a legitimate question, prompted by his current thought process. It was this very thought that had led me to leave Amelia alone at a critical point.
But I hadn’t had to answer this yet, mainly because no one else had dared to ask the question.
"I have never in my life dated a woman who was more than four years younger than me. And what underlies your question almost prevented a relationship with Amelia. We have over twenty-five years between us, but it's not because of my age that she's with me, nor am I with her for that reason. You could say we met by chance, and it just clicked. For so many reasons that have nothing to do with any numbers." It might not have been easy for him to understand.
Declan was eighteen. How many partners had he had in his life?
"Are you worried about Amelia's well-being?"
This time, he looked at me as if I were out of my mind. "Good heavens, no! It's hard not to see how happy she is. And even though I didn't know her before, I'm certain she has changed since you met." He held up his hands as if to calm me down. "I just wondered if you might someday break her heart by replacing her with someone younger. For some men, that's normal. My dad has been having affairs with his students for years, who are just barely old enough."
I tasted bitter bile. Declan clearly hadn't hit the jackpot with his father. No wonder he was now worrying about whether I harbored similar tendencies as his previousrole model.
"Can I be completely honest with you, Declan?"
"Of course." He seemed impressed that I was even having this conversation with him instead of cutting him off after his initial question and ending the discussion.
"Amelia is the last woman in my life there will ever be. I plan to marry her—and maybe I'll change my mind about kids too. I want only her. No one else. Which means that I give my all every day to be the man she needs in her life. For a long time, I might have denied it, but I love this woman more than I ever thought humanly possible." With each further sentence I spoke, he blushed a little more. I ignored it and finally shrugged. "I hope this eases your concern about Amelia."
"What are my chances of experiencing something like that?"
I twisted my mouth. In principle, I had given up when Amelia found me. How was I qualified to give him any advice?
"If we take me as an example, it finds you when you least expect it."
"That wasn't a planned date?"
Chuckling softly, I shook my head. "My actual date had stood me up, and Amelia was hiding at my table to avoid being recognized by someone else at the same restaurant."
"Really?!"
"Yes. And when my actual date did show up, she chased them away for me."
"Man, that sounds like a wild story. What happens next?"
"No chance," I said, grinning. "I'll keep that to myself. It's not a guide for your own love story. You just need to know that our first meeting definitely wasn't planned. And now, back to work before I start giving you dating advice that never worked out for me."
42
AMELIA
My eyes rested on the page in my notebook that I had just filled with scribbles. My handwriting was large, slanted, sprawling, and nearly illegible to anyone else. Yet each word was vividly clear to me, just as the dream had been fresh in my memory.
Over the past few weeks, I had been extremely tired and would typically fall into a dreamless sleep, but last night, my imagination had taken a wild ride. So wild, in fact, that I now was in an almost unbearably good mood, which really wasn't the norm for me. I had to admit, though, that the baseline of my mornings had significantly improved since I met Gray.
He slowly began to stir next to me, which meant that within seconds, his arms would snake around my waist, yank me back down into a lying position, and press me so tightly against his chest that I momentarily couldn't breathe.
My book had slipped to the floor in his maneuver, and just then, I heard the pen plummet down too. However, he distracted me from that by burying his nose in my neck and taking a deep breath.
"How about we just stay in bed and cuddle for the rest of the day?" he asked me, his voice irresistibly husky, which made it almost impossible to deny him anything.
"I'm afraid Wilder will drag you out of this bed by your feet if you stand him up."
Not just that. He would probably also give me hell for not having kicked Gray out myself.
He grumbled as if he was just now remembering that he had arranged to meet with Wilder. I let out an amused laugh.
No one had forced him to agree to a meeting with Wilder on his very first free weekend after countless weeks… or years, as one may see it.
