Page 63 of His Choice

“But choose you must,” Emilio pressed, trying to push me along. “Let’s narrow it down. Who are the top three?”

I sighed. I already knew I would choose Brighton. Being forced to single out three people sucked as it would just make the others feel worse yet. “It’s close,” I fibbed. “But I’d say one of them is Aaron, who nailed the sexy outfit in the best possible way.” Aaron grinned, likely for ego reasons, since he wouldn’t want to be selected. “Mikey, who is just adorable. What a nice Sunday that would be.” Now he smiled shyly. “But this time, I’m going with Brighton.”

Brighton beamed, and I was surprised that Aaron patted him on the back and told him congratulations. Mikey’s eyes flickered with disappointment before he forced a grin and shook Brighton’s hand.

“What gave him the edge?” Emilio questioned.

“Besides looking hotter than you-know-what? It’s the way he made me feel he’d strive to make our partnership fun and loving, even when we’re neck-deep in the realities of our work.”

Emilio turned to the camera. “There you have it. Today’s challenge winner is Brighton. We’ll do a little spying on their date later.”

* * * *

When Brighton joined me on the patio for an evening dinner, I could tell he had showered because he smelled of coconut and sea breeze, and his hair still hadn’t fully dried. He had dressed for a romantic date. His simple white linen shirt was opened enough to arouse, but not enough to cross into inappropriate for the occasion. The slacks were expertly tailored and crisply pressed.

“You look amazing,” I gushed as I pulled a chair from the table for him to sit.

He smiled. “So do you.”

I took a seat across from him just as Thad, from my staff, poured wine into each of our glasses.

“Thank you, Thad,” I said as he exited past the camera crew. They had promised to film only the first few minutes of the date, then assured me they’d leave providing they had footage that included a kiss between me and Brighton. Brighton had been brought up to speed, so he knew the boundaries and expectations.

“If I haven’t told you already, your home is lovely,” Brighton complimented before raising his glass for a sip of the cabernet.

“Thanks. I sometimes think it’s over the top, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. Tell me more about your home. Do you live right in London?”

“I do,” he replied. “Kensington. It’s a charming townhouse. I’m very fortunate, indeed.”

“And your daughter? Clara?”

He nodded before unfolding a napkin and placing it on his lap. “Most of the time, she lives with her mum, but that’s right across town. Clara and I see each other several times a week. I’m a very lucky father.”

Brighton’s statement reminded me of how difficult it would be for him and me to have a relationship. I doubted he’d want to leave London and his child.

“I’m sure she’s wonderful.”

He grinned. “All fathers are biased, but yes. Clara is…sunshine. Warm, welcoming and cheery, lifting the spirits of everyone she touches. She gets that from her mother. I’m not quite as bubbly, I’m told.”

I chuckled to be polite. “Um, may I ask why you split from your wife?”

Brighton half-shrugged. “Our interests diverged. My work also forced me away from home for too long, too many times. There was no ugliness about the breakup. Katie, my ex, and I are still close. At one point, we even questioned the need to reside separately after the divorce. But we aren’t so progressive that we’d be comfortable entertaining each other’s sleep-overs.”

“And Clara took it well?” I wondered if I should stop pressing, fearing I was being too nosey.

“Katie and I separated more than ten years ago. Clara was at a pivotal age—seven—and there were some difficult moments. But she’s strong and managed through it. I believe it helped that Katie and I still love each other. There was never a question that Clara was our priority, either. We even have holidays together as a family every year,” he explained.

“That’s nice.” I didn’t understand why Brighton was even here considering a relationship with someone overseas. “Katie—did she know about you when you were married?”

He seemed surprised. “That I like blokes as well? Yes, of course. I wouldn’t have kept that from her. Katie has always been supportive of who I am, and she understood that monogamy was always my preference. An expanded pool of potential partners never changed that.”

“And she’s okay with you doing this show?”

Brighton grinned. “I wouldn’t be here if she weren’t, mate. Her opinion is important to me. As is Clara’s. They each took one look at your profile and agreed I should give it a go. Clara’s exact words were, ‘He’s dreamy, Daddy’ and she thought the fact that you were once a high-school teacher means you’re capable of forming solid relationships with people her age.”

I thought about how Keller would disagree with that assessment, but I didn’t want to shatter the image Brighton and his family had. “Brighton, I like you. I don’t know you well yet and it’s too early to choose someone, but you’re right up there on the list. So, I need to ask you something. How would you see this working? You’re across the Atlantic. I’ll be honest—as much as I love London, I cherish White Pines.”

He nodded. “I assumed as much. The thing is, Clara has had a strong desire for a couple of years now to study here in the States. She was accepted at Burlington College, and Katie and I have given her our blessing. She’ll only be young once, and she should explore the world before life attaches the anchor on her that all working adults must carry. So, you see…both Katie and Clara would be thrilled were I to be here, too. Yes, my job would require travel—some of it back to England now and then. It seems to me, though, that owning clubs in various countries will mandate the same from you. If you’re open to being apart occasionally, then I am—if it means more time spent with someone I love back here.” Brighton coughed into his hand. “If we were to fall in love, of course.”