It was strange to be milling around Lucas’ house without him there. But there was something comforting about it, too. Ramona had never thought of homey-ness as a quality before, but this house had it. With only the kitchen light on, she walked barefoot around the shadowy house, ducking in and out of rooms, running her hands along anything that looked like it felt nice. It was as if Lucas had actually infused himself - his beauty, his kindness, his creativity - into the walls and floors. She got a sense that every detail had been scrutinized for both precision and pleasure. It was clean and orderly and smelled like fresh wood and cake.

The only thing out of order was his tousled bed, set in the center of a simple room the colors of a tropical beach. She’d been in an orgasm-induced daze her last time in that room and hadn’t noticed the blues and tans on the walls and accented throughout. He had great taste.

She picked up a small wooden box and brushed her fingertips across the inlaid pattern. It looked like the type of thing one would keep a small memento, but there were no seams or hinges. Shaking it created a dull rattle. Curious.

She smiled at the disarray. Maybe he’d left the house in such a rush the week before, he hadn’t had time to tidy up. Maybe it represented his quest to profess his love, to claim her and rescue her from her mundane existence. That messy bed made her heart beat faster and not only because of everything that had happened on it. Ramona hadn’t been the recipient of many grand gestures from men, but she knew that what had happened on that Sunday morning, just over one week ago, was extraordinary.

The sheets were cool under her palm. Soft, inviting, begging for her to enter. She slipped out of her pajamas and into his side of the bed, hoping his pillow would smell of him. Everything that had kept her body from fully relaxing, from surrendering to sleep, from allowing a sense of home, evaporated as she snuggled herself into the space that was his.

Her dreams were particularly vivid. She could hear his whispers, feel his kisses, taste his-

She woke up with a start to find Lucas’ face, barely visible in the dark room, inches from hers. “You’re home,” she mumbled.

“And so are you.”

She settled into his arms, cocooned in skin and breath and love. Just before she let herself go, a burst of thought pulled her from the delicious daze of sleep. Connor had gotten it all wrong. The potential issue with her brilliant plan was not her inability to sustain a relationship. It was the loss of her comfort with being alone, the quality she’d spent a lifetime mastering.

As if it had been years since she’d last been with him, she reached her hands and mouth for anything within her grasp. His response was immediate and matched in intensity. She pressed herself on top of him, he entered her in one swift stroke, their limbs in a tangle and their voices free. Ramona lost the ability to tell where she ended and he began. It didn’t matter, anyway. All she cared about was having him, taking him, being joined in every possible way. Someone moaned, someone cried out “Fuck!”, someone began shaking.

She collapsed on him, breath heaving, brow damp from sweat. His heart pounded through his chest into her own. The slowing beat, the regular rhythm of his breath, was the lullaby she needed.

A full bladder forced her out of bed, the light filling the room the only indicator that time had passed. As she sat on the cold porcelain toilet, he turned and pushed the sheets off his body, erection pronouncing its presence. When would she tire of that sight? Sometime around never.

“Come back to bed, baby. I’ve got something for you.”

Hands washed, she bounded back into the bed to receive her very welcome gift.

---

They both lay sprawled on the bed, too hot for anything but their fingers to touch.

She turned her head to take in the sight of him, happily spent. “I’m not sure you’re going to need any Crossfit today, hot stuff.”

Lucas ran his hand across his glistening forehead. “If that’s how things are going to be from now on, I’m going to cancel my membership right now.”

With great effort, she pressed herself up to sitting, then blew a breath through pursed lips. She was definitely going to be walking funny today. “I’ll go get us some water.”

By the time she’d returned, he was sitting up in bed, pillows supporting his back and across his thighs. He took the large glass of water she offered and guzzled it.

“Thirsty boy.”

“Yes, someone insisted on fucking me to within an inch of my life.”

Eyebrows raised and hands on hips, she countered, “Oh, is that what happened?”

“That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Now, come back to bed. I need to have you within touching distance at all times.”

With an easy tug of his arm, she was back on the bed, head in his lap. She adjusted to make sure she wasn’t crushing anything… important. “Better?”

“Much.” He ran his fingers through her hair.

She looked down at her naked body and up at his bare chest. Any self-consciousness about being naked together had been wiped away during their week in San Francisco. Not that she was necessarily bashful, anyway, but they’d spent much more time unclothed than clothed.

“I’ve got a question, Mo.” He interrupted her recollection of a game of tag that ended on her living room floor. “I’m dying to know… how is it that you came to be here last night?”

Oh, that. She’d almost forgotten about her insistence on staying with her dad. How much vulnerability was the right amount for their new and old and tentative and intense relationship? How much of the truth of her feelings would cause him to flee? She chewed on the corner of her bottom lip and assessed.

“Hmmmm.” He caressed her cheek. “Is it a secret?”

Courage, Ramona. Courage. “No, it’s not a secret. I just… I missed you. I thought I really needed a night to myself, some solo time, but all I felt was your absence. Like it took up the whole room. I got so uncomfortable over at my dad’s, but as soon as I got here, I felt better. Weird because I was just as alone. But I felt you here, and that was enough.”

His face lit up as if she had offered him a lifetime supply of blow jobs.

“What are you smiling at?”

“I expected that I would be the one, falling all over myself, jonesing for you like an addict. Which I am. But I didn’t expect that you would feel some of that too. It makes me happy.”

She placed her hand on his heart. “Lucas…”

“And my offer stands. I’d love to have you here, as much as you want. Or all the time. Whichever works. ”

She sat up to kiss him, her lips lingering with a sweetness and softness she hoped made him feel like the most loved man in the world.

He held her gaze. “You’re not going to respond to my offer, are you?”

“Nope. I think we both know what’s going to happen.”

“Hmmm…” He didn’t look convinced. “Tell me more about last night, then.”

Ramona dropped back onto his pillow-covered lap and drew his hand to her mouth. She loved everything about his hands - how they looked and felt and smelled. “That’s about it. I walked around the house and then went to bed.”

“No, I mean tell me about what you were feeling. About me.”

She lifted her gaze from his broad palm to his open face. Unsure what he was asking, she paused.

“Is it hard to answer?”

“I’m not sure I understand, and it sounds important, so I want to get it right.”

He closed his eyes for a breath before speaking. “There’s something that I see in you - like now, and like last night, and when we were in San Francisco - and I’m curious about what gets you there.”

Her eyes and brows and cheeks all pressed in toward each other.

He tried again. “There are moments when I can really feel you wanting me. Not just sexually, I mean loving me, without any guards or defenses. I want to know what’s going on in your head when that’s happening.”

Ramona knew exactly what he was talking about. Those moments when she forgot who she was supposed to be. When she stopped analyzing her life and just lived it. It was the great emptiness that all her yoga and meditation lessons had pointed her toward, but she’d never realized it would feel just like love.

“I don’t like to need anyone. It makes me feel very uncomfortable. But with you, it’s sometimes the opposite. Wanting you, and wanting to be with you, makes me more comfortable, not less. I’m not sure I can explain it any better than that.”

His expression was so hard to decipher. It wasn’t at all clear that she was making any sense.

She had one more idea. “Loving you makes me happy.”

That combination of words had never formed itself in her head nor come out of her mouth. Apparently, the time had come.

“Now, I want to hear all about your night.” She needed to move on to something else. “How was the wine dinner?”

His hand settled on the soft spot just above her navel, his pointer finger drawing a circle around her undersized innie. “We were at a hundred and ten percent capacity. Remember what I said about scandal? Well, we are now booked out for six months. Shelley - she’s the house manager - told me that there was some black market trading on seats for the dinner last night. Nuts, right?”

She tried to keep her attention on his words instead of that pesky finger trying to undo her composure. “That’s crazy. How did you manage?”

“Thank God for Luis. He saved the night.”

“Luis?”

“Oh, sorry, I forget that I haven’t been blabbing about the restaurant endlessly. Everyone else is tired of hearing me talk about it. Luis is my sous-chef. The best sous-chef on the planet. I had to basically drop the restaurant in his hands when I took off. He’s brilliant. I’m resigned to the fact that he’s going to have a restaurant of his own sooner rather than later. So I’m thankful for every day he sticks with me.”

“It’s great to have people you trust. I’m sure you’re surrounded by loyal, devoted employees. I could see you being a great boss.”

“Aren’t we full of compliments.”

“Well deserved.” She ran her hand over the mound of his chest muscle. “Anyway, go on. Tell me about dinner. Any big names show up?”

His shoulder quirked up. “I have my fair share of fans from the Hill.”

The Hill. Ramona would have to reorient herself to DC lingo. The Hill - all the politicians, judges, and staff working in Congress and the Supreme Court. The Mall - That would be the stretch of green flanked by the monuments, the White House and the Capitol. “Did you notice anyone talking about your recent… situation?”

He chuckled and patted her belly. “A trail of whispers followed me throughout the kitchen and dining room.”

She tried to imagine him strolling through a restaurant bursting with gawkers, dealing with everyone’s interest, curiosity, possibly even scorn. “But how did it feel… being the center of attention?”

A laugh burst out of him. “Darling, I’m a chef. Enormous ego is a prerequisite. I have no problem being center stage.”

It’s not something she would have ever thought of, but it was true. He’d always been so sure of himself. Her confidence was forged out of necessity, but his seemed to have come naturally. She gave him a wink. “That explains a lot, Baloo.”

He returned with a shrug. “Everything went as well as could be expected. It was a bit of a shitshow at first, but we found our groove. And it was amazing to see your dad and Leni there. I think they had a great time. Your dad was schmoozing up a storm.”

She could hardly picture that. Her father was about as comfortable in that milieu as a canary at a cat show.

A smile, full of child-like exuberance, filled his expression. “When I came out of the kitchen after final service, I got a standing ovation.”

My guy. Of course, she could take no credit for his professional successes, but the thought of him kicking ass made her proud to know him. To be with him.

“What’s that smile, Mowgli?”

“I’m just so impressed with you, Mr. Chef Lucas.”

He tilted his head down to kiss the tip of her nose. “Double back atcha, love.”

His circles around her navel had broadened and now skimmed the underside of her breasts and top of her mound. The room was getting warmer by the second.

“What’s the plan for today?”

Focusing on anything other than the tickle of his fingertips was Herculean. “What? Today? Oh, I’ve got to make significant inroads on those lists of mine. I’m going to be running around all day.”

His hands flew up to his face, and Ramona’s belly contracted with the sharp absence of his touch. “I almost forgot! I have a ton of information for you. I think I’ve already forwarded a couple emails, and I have notes in my jacket.”

She scrunched her eyes in confusion.

“So, Luis’ wife was a top aide on the Hill before the kids. She’s amazing and would make a great assistant. Would love to work part-time. I have her info.” He tilted his head up. “Shelley gave me a couple options for doctors, and it turns out her wife is a yoga teacher. I didn’t even know that. Anyway, she sent me a list of all the local studios with some notes on what’s good and bad.”

Ramona blinked over and over, trying to get her brain to engage enough to process the stream of information. “Can we back up, please? When did you have time to get all this information? Weren’t you crazy busy?”

He cocked his head. “Of course I was busy. But priorities, love.”

“I can’t believe…” She realized something. “How did you know I was looking for a yoga studio?”

“Connor had asked me when you were here, the first time.”

Her sneaky brother. Maybe he wasn’t a jerk, after all. She sat up and wrapped her arms around Lucas. “You’re the best.”

He kissed the crook of her neck. “I’m trying.”

---

All the leads Lucas had acquired took enormous pressure off her day. There’d be no reason to feel guilty about the extra hour she’d spent in bed after their conversation. In any case, he had earned all her gratitude, which she chose to offer with her mouth.

By noon, they had gone off to their respective obligations, with a promise to meet later for movie night at her dad’s. It occurred to Ramona, while waiting in line at a promising-looking coffee shop, minutes away from Luc’s house, that her life might have just taken a big step forward. Her work was going well, the project to convert the Governor’s mansion to a children’s center was exciting, and she was surrounded by people who loved her. Every day, she could come home to someone thrilled to see her, whether it was her father or her lover. She had to dig way back to childhood to remember the last time when those conditions existed. Truthfully, it might never have been this good.

“Triple Americano, please.”

The young barista gave her a perfect, gleaming grin. “Coming up.”

Virginia was a different universe, though. Her favorite barista at home had been a pierced, tattooed, dred-locked wisp of a young woman. The one here sported a collared shirt, a military haircut, and the build of a Navy Seal.

She took a look around Brewed Awakening while waiting for her coffee. Modern art on the walls, with hand-written inspirational sayings interspersed throughout the place. A few tables filled with students, what looked like a mom’s club, and just a couple guys in suits. If the coffee was any good, this place would be a top choice.

She carried her coffee out into the overcast day and stood outside the door, considering what direction to head. There was enough time before her next meeting that a stroll around the small town was possible. A window display down the block, that might have contained shoes, made the decision easy.

The coffee was good. Not overly roasted like the national chains. And there were so many cute shops, at least four that she would come back to when she had more time. She’d even found a photograph of sea glass that would be perfect in Lucas’ bedroom. Framed just right, it would be beautiful.

Ramona was accustomed to being in new places, surrounded by strangers. She prided herself on the ability to slide gracefully around unfamiliar customs and cultures. It confirmed her other-ness, which was strangely comforting. When the faces around her had almost nothing in common with her own, the story she told herself about being different, about not belonging, made sense.

Walking along those few blocks, it wasn’t a separateness that she noticed, but a discovery that she was very much not alone.

Her phone buzzed. Unrecognized numbers were never a surprise, but their frequency had increased with all of her recent changes. She paused next to a store with a beautiful miniature house in the window. “Hello.”

“Hi, Ramona. It’s Abigail.”