I know as soon as Ashley sits down across from me and her boobs practically spill out of her shirt that my lawyer was right—I should not be here.

Not because I’ll fall for her bullshit, obviously. But because this is going to be annoying, and it’s unlikely to go the way I hoped when I agreed to meet her.

My hope was that I could make her see that her stalling is pointless. When we fought, Ashley always knew she could wear me down. Obviously she thought she could get out of cheating on me just as easily. It’s not a thing I like about myself, but I have a weakness for beautiful women. Not like I can’t keep my shit together around any given beautiful woman, but when I give one the keys to my castle, I don’t like to take ‘em back. Doesn’t matter if they shit all over everything, doesn’t matter if they throw everything I invested in them back in my face. If they come crawling back, some sick shit inside of me tells me I should take it. Tells me it’s all I deserve—more than I deserve, really. I should be glad they even want to crawl back to me.

Right now, the sadistic side of my brain that spits out poisonous shit like that doesn’t have a leg to stand on, though. Because I have Moira, and Moira is everything I’ve always wanted. Everything Ashley could never be—that Ashley has no interest in being. I remember keenly the loneliness I felt last time I tried to hold Ashley. Whereas now, sitting here at this table, I can recall the warmth of Moira snuggled in my arms this morning, her soft lips moving tenderly along my jawline. What a way to wake up.

No, I’m not worried about getting sucked back in to Ashley’s shit; I just want her to go away, and frankly, if I can throw a little money at her and make that happen faster, I’d like to.

My lawyer told me I’m abso-fucking-lutely not allowed, though. Her words. She swears if Ashley smells money in the water, she’ll latch on and suck me dry.

The cut of her shirt tells me I probably should have listened to the lawyer. Ashley isn’t here to let me go; she’s here to try to draw me back in.

“It’s so good seeing you, Griff. You look so good,” Ashley tells me, reaching across the table and patting my arm. I draw my arm away as soon as her hand makes contact. Her mouth forms a little pout. “Don’t be like that. Please? I want us to have a nice lunch. I’ve missed you.”

I shoot her a look to let her know I’m not impressed. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” she asks, innocently. “Tell the truth? I really do, Griff. I miss you so much.”

“Please stop.” I look around for the waiter, partly because I’m embarrassed, partly because I want him to come take our order so we can get out of here faster.

“You have no idea how happy I was when you agreed to meet me.”

I stop looking for the waiter and turn my gaze on Ashley, meeting hers so she can see I’m serious when I tell her, “That is not why we’re here. This is not a reunion. I agreed to meet you because I wanted to tell you, face to face, to stop your bullshit.”

Her eyes dim and she sits back in her chair. She has the fucking nerve to look wounded. “My bullshit?”

“You’re stalling. You’re using every trick in the book to try to drag this shit out. It’s a waste of time and money, not to mention energy. You and I don’t have kids or intertwined family; there’s nothing to untangle. There’s no reason for this to be a whole thing. We had a relationship that didn’t work out. That’s it. Keep your rings, keep your clothes, keep all your fucking shoes and purses—just sign the goddamn papers and let me out of this godforsaken marriage.”

Ashley shakes her head, looking at me like my words disgust her. “You think this is about stuff? Fuck you, Griff. Fuck you for saying that.”

“Fine, fuck me. I don’t care anymore. Just sign the papers.”

“Stop saying that,” she snaps. “This isn’t a relationship that didn’t work out, it’s our marriage. We got married. We made promises to each other.”

I sit back, laughing a little at her gall. “Wow. Really? You want to talk to me about promises? You weren’t too worried about those promises when some other asshole was balls deep inside you in my fucking club, now, were you?”

Her eyes well up with practiced tears. “I made a mistake, Griff. A horrible, stupid, selfish mistake. I was feeling… I was just feeling so neglected. You hadn’t even touched me in weeks; you didn’t look at me like you wanted me. Then suddenly this stranger did, and it was stupid, I know that. It was cruel and the wrong thing to do. I should have resisted. I should have gone home and tried talking to you about how I was feeling.”

If she thinks that little speech is going to gain her sympathy, she’s sadly mistaken. “You always blame me, don’t you? You did the same shit after Seb’s wedding.”

Her eyes flash with anger. “That was your fault. You were mooning over Moira the whole fucking time. You watched him dance with her and then—” She holds a hand up, as if to stop herself. “This isn’t productive. This isn’t what I want. It’s not about blame. It doesn’t matter who was at fault. We don’t have to dredge up the past. It doesn’t have to matter, that’s what I’m saying. We’ve both made mistakes. Let’s start fresh.”

“You’ve made mistakes,” I state. “You. Not me. I never fucked anyone else. That was only you. Even when I was miserable, I kept my fucking dick in my pants.”

“But you didn’t tell me you were miserable! I didn’t know.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You couldn’t tell?”

Ashley sighs. “I’m not a mind reader, Griff. Sometimes marriages get hard.”

I shake my head. “That is not what happened between us. That’s not what it was. We were not two people in a good marriage who went through a rough patch. I wanted to believe that too, but it wasn’t true. It was bullshit, Ashley, just like our relationship. I never should have married you in the first place and I think you know that. We moved too fast, we made a mistake. That doesn’t mean we should be miserable for the rest of our lives.”

“I think it’s a little much to say I made you miserable,” she informs me.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t in the room when my best friend with his fucking fantasy marriage had to tell me he saw my wife fucking someone else. Maybe then you’d have a different perspective.”

Ashley points at me, like I just proved her point. “That right there is the problem, Griff. You always compared our marriage to theirs. Always.”

I stare at the glass of water in front of me, at the condensation on the outside of the glass. We haven’t even touched our water. The waiter hasn’t even approached yet and I’m already so fucking annoyed that I want to crawl out of my skin.

“You know what? Their marriage isn’t as perfect as you think it is. They’re full of shit, Griff, that’s what they are. No one is that happy all the time. No couple still looks at each other like that after being married for years.”

“You’re wrong,” I state. “Just because we didn’t doesn’t mean no one does. They take care of their marriage. They go out of their way to make one another happy. They’re happier than we were because they’re good together, because they care enough to take care of their relationship. We never did. That should tell us something.”

“That we didn’t try hard enough,” she states, following the same logic, but coming up with a much different result.

“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve done things I can’t get past and I’ve already moved on. All I need is your ink on the paper and we’re history. We don’t have a marriage anymore, Ashley. We don’t have a relationship. If you wanted to work on things, if you wanted to start taking care of our relationship, you came to that conclusion too late. Literally anytime before you fucked some other asshole wouldn’t have been too late, but now? Your window hasn’t just slammed shut, I took a wrecking ball to the whole fucking wall—the window doesn’t even exist anymore. I have no romantic feelings left for you, Ashley. None.”

She pales a bit. For once, she’s unable to come up with anything to say.

“I’m sorry if that sounds harsh,” I add, to soften the blow. “Honestly, I don’t even have any resentment about it at this point, I just want it over. I don’t want to play games. I don’t want to fuck around with lawyers. I just want this marriage ended legally, since as far as I’m concerned, it’s over in every other way.”

“Are you seeing someone?” she demands, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

My eyes widen and I stare at her. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”

“Yes,” she says, digging in. “This isn’t like you. You don’t give up on people like this. You’re not the guy who walks away. I call bullshit. You said you’ve already moved on. Who is she?”

I shake my head, staring at the table. “You are fucking unbelievable. Forget it. Forget this.” I push my chair back and stand.

“What are you doing?” she demands, her voice rising. “We haven’t even ordered.”

“We’re not going to. I thought I could do this, but I was wrong. I’m done here. If you have anything else to say to me, say it through your lawyer.”

Ashley stands and grabs my arm to try to keep me from leaving. “Griff, come on. Please.” When I don’t stop, she follows after me. I shake her arm off, but she just grabs my shoulder. “Stop. Dammit, stop and talk to me.”

I pry her hand off me and head for the door.

“Griffin!”

I ignore her and head out the door. We only ordered waters so there’s no bill, just an annoyed waiter. Probably should’ve left a tip. Oh well, too late to go back now.

By the time I get to my car, I’m so fucking agitated I can’t think straight. I need to calm down and all I can think about is Moira. I check my watch. I’m not even sure if Seb’s home or not. If he is, I probably shouldn’t show up. I’ll be by later for dinner, as it is.

When I start the car, though, it practically drives there without me. Relief pours through me when I pull in and Seb’s car isn’t there.

I go to the door and bang on it, then remember there’s a doorbell. Before I have to ring it though, I see the shape of Moira coming toward the frosted glass window.

She smiles as she opens the door to greet me. “Hey, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?” Her expression turns teasing. “You want lunch again, don’t you?”

She’s so fucking pretty. She’s standing there in this soft white sweater with a tight black skirt, mauve flowers printed all over it. Her hair is pulled back like the night I took her out, with dark strands hanging down around her ears and neck. Her blue eyes sparkle with warmth at the sight of me, like she’s happy to see me.

I swoop forward and cradle her face in my hand, drawing her in for an unexpected kiss.

“Oh,” she murmurs, before our lips touch. Her right arm drifts to my side and she tugs me close, her left arm going around my neck. I walk her backward, kicking the door shut behind me. I don’t let go, don’t break away from her lips, until I have her backed up against a wall. I finally have to let her go because I’m wearing all these bulky fucking clothes. I yank off my coat and toss it in the floor behind me, but I need to touch her again, so I advance on her, grabbing her and pulling her in for another kiss.

She kisses me back, but there’s a little more hesitance this time. She breaks away and searches my face. “Griff, is everything okay?”

I nod my head before burying my face in her neck. I leave a trail of kisses, then when I get near her ear, I murmur, “I need you.”

Moira melts against me, pulling back to look in my eyes. Hers have a tender gleam in them now, but there’s something vulnerable there, too. I don’t have time to think about it, then she’s running her fingers through my hair and yanking me back in for a hard kiss. One hand drops to my belt so she can unbuckle it. I grab her delicate-looking shirt and yank it off. She’s wearing a white bra today.

“Can we go upstairs?” she asks.

My raging hard-on says no, I need to pin her to this wall and fuck her right here, but I manage a nod anyhow.

Moira takes my hand and hauls me up the stairs, leaving our discarded clothing in the entry way. By the time we get to the bedroom, I toss my belt and shuck my pants. She reaches behind her and unzips her pretty skirt, pushing it down and revealing a pair of white panties with delicate little roses on them. She looks so fucking pretty. I just want to freeze this mental image of her and keep it forever.

She looks down, then back up at me, my little sex kitten acting all innocent. “See anything you like?”

I keep my eyes on her as I stalk closer. “I see everything I like,” I tell her, honestly.

She flushes with pleasure, her gaze dropping to my groin. I’m completely naked while she still has her bra and panties on. We need to fix that.

“On the bed,” I tell her.

She eagerly obeys and I follow, yanking off her delicate panties and tossing them on the floor. I want her so much, I’m tempted to leave the bra on, but the idea of not seeing her bare breasts gives me enough patience to reach behind her and unhook it. I take just enough time to peel it off before burying myself inside her.

It’s after we’ve both finished that I get what I need, though. The sight of her excites me and I wanted to fuck her until she came as hard for me as she does for Seb, but she’s so affectionate afterward, lying in my embrace, fitted snugly against my chest with her head resting on my bicep. This is what I craved when I was driving over here. Her fingertip traces little shapes on my chest. Her leg is hooked over my thigh to keep me close. Her hair’s a fucking mess.

“What are you smirking at?” she asks, poking me in the chest.

“I fucked up your hair,” I tell her.

“Worth it,” she assures me with a playful wink. When I don’t say anything back, she lets the moment pass, but keeps her watchful blue eyes on me. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong? It seemed like something had you upset.”

I really don’t want to bring up my not-quite ex-wife, especially right now, but I don’t want to lie to her, either. “I had to meet with Ashley today. Well, I didn’t have to. My lawyer actually told me not to. But she’s still pulling all kinds of shit to try to stall the divorce and I thought maybe if I talked to her face to face she’d stop it.”

The corner of Moira’s mouth tugs up with little humor. “Didn’t go as planned?”

I shake my head, tracing the curve of her shoulder. “Not quite.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’ll get done, I just… I just wish it wasn’t taking so long. I want that part of my life over. I want that mistake filed away and dealt with.”

Moira nods her understanding. “What did she say that upset you so much?”

“I wasn’t upset,” I say, defensively. “I was annoyed.”

“Fine,” she says, easily. “That annoyed you so much, then.”

“Just bullshit. How she’s sorry for what she did—still blames me, though, of course—and it was a mistake. How she wants to start fresh. Just a bunch of shit to try to buy fucking time so she can talk me out of it.”

I hate everything Ashley said today—especially the nice stuff. She makes me feel like an asshole for not wanting to try, but I did want to try. I did try. I tried for years with that woman, and all it got me was cheated on and made a fucking fool of.

I’m lost in my own thoughts so it takes me a minute to realize Moira has gone silent. I wouldn’t be too worried about it, except her brow is furrowed, her finger has stopped tracing shapes on my skin, and she’s staring vacantly at the wall of my chest in front of her.

“What’s going on up there?” I ask, lightly tapping her temple.

She looks regretful, but she attempts a smile. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Her big eyes meet mine. “Is there any part of you that wants to?”

I can’t believe she’d even ask that after I fled Ashley’s presence to come see her. A little doubt in my mind whispers that she’s thinking about that because she wants it to be true. After all, if this was just some fantasy I had to fuck Seb’s untouchable wife, I’ve more than sated it. I’ve fucked her myself, fucked her with him—I’ve fucked every hole, fucked her a dozen times now. If I only needed to get her out of my system, if I only needed to possess her because she was some ideal to me, I’ve already done that.

If that’s all it is, maybe I could go back to my unfaithful wife with my pride avenged, having fucked my dream girl every which way. Maybe when memories of Ashley’s infidelity crossed my mind, memories of Moira desperately gripping Seb’s bed sheets and coming for me would be enough to soothe me. Maybe now I could get on with my life, be with someone without constantly comparing them to Moira, our relationship to hers.

Is that what Moira hopes? Is she waiting for me to get her out of my system so she can have her life back? Is she just trying to fuck me until I get bored with her?

“Do you like being with both of us better than just being with Seb?” I ask her.

Moira frowns, since that’s not an answer to the question she just asked at all. “In some ways, yes. I don’t like to compare, though. You’re evading my question.”

“I’m not evading your question,” I deny.

“It’s okay if you do,” she assures me. “I think that would be natural, to have doubts. Especially after seeing her today. You were married to her for years, and you haven’t seen her in person recently. Is that what happened? You can tell me, I won’t be offended.”

“I don’t want to be with Ashley,” I snap.

Moira’s eyes widen, surprised at the sharpness of my tone. “Okay,” she says. “I was just asking. For the record, I don’t think you should either. I was just trying to be an unbiased ear in case you needed one.”

“I don’t want you to be unbiased, Moira. We’re sleeping together, for fuck’s sake. We’re in a relationship—maybe a weird one, but a fucking relationship, nonetheless. You should definitely have a preference in this scenario.”

She can see that I’m getting agitated, so she curls closer and runs her fingers tenderly through my hair, her features softening. It’s exactly the right thing to do. I can’t attack her if she’s being soft; I’ll feel like a fucking monster.

Ashley always rose to the occasion. The more agitated I got, the more agitated she got until we combusted.

Moira leans in and kisses her way along my jawline. “I do, Griff. My preference is your happiness. If that’s with me and Sebastian, wonderful. If it isn’t, I would never guide you away from it just because I want you. That wouldn’t be fair. I would understand if you wanted a person all to yourself. I wouldn’t like it,” she adds, holding my gaze. “But I would get it. That’s a natural thing to want.”

“I don’t, though. I want you.”

She smiles softly. “You have me.”

I probably shouldn’t tell her this, but it spills out of my mouth anyhow. “I can’t help feeling like you’re gonna slip away from me. Like Seb’s gonna take you back.”

“He won’t,” she assures me. “I love having both of you. He loves sharing me with you. We are all happy, Griff. Stop looking for reasons not to be.”

“I’m afraid of losing you, Moira. I can’t help it.”

She sighs, her blue eyes clouding over. I can see that she’s not sure how to reassure me, and to be honest, I’m not sure either. I don’t think she can. I think it’s something that’ll only go away in time.

I hope it goes away in time.

“You’re not going to lose me, Griff,” she promises, grabbing my hand and twining our fingers together. “We’re in this thing now. All three of us.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. Maybe it should.

Moira’s tone softens, and I get the feeling she’s unsure about what she’s going to say. “I think maybe with your personal history, with your childhood and the fact that you’ve sort of been abandoned before, maybe that’s why you worry about this. I’m glad we’re talking about it, but I’m not sure you feel this way for any external reason. I don’t think we’ve given you any reason to worry about this. Sebastian is clearly trying to give you what you need. I certainly am. I’m sorry you can’t trust it yet. You should know by now that I’m reliable. It’s one of the things Sebastian loves about me. I’m no quitter. He’s not always easy, either. He has some rough edges and personal issues, too.”

Yeah, maybe he does, but he’d never bleed them all over her this way. Seb likes to come off strong at all times, and this shit here… this is not that.

I’m gonna scare her off with my irrational bullshit. It won’t even be Seb’s fault, it’ll be mine.

“Maybe it’s just because all of this is new,” she suggests. “Maybe you just need some time to get used to it. Then you’ll feel stable.”

“Maybe,” I murmur.

Moira brings her other hand up and clasps both of them around mine. “I’m yours, Griff. You wanted me and you got me. Stop waiting for the sky to fall. It’s not going to. Let yourself enjoy this—not because it’s going anywhere, but because that’s a nice way to live life. Don’t worry about it so much, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”

I nod, but I’m not completely convinced.

She must be able to see that. Her expression drifts toward the contemplative and she says, “You need to spend some time with Sebastian. He’ll straighten you out.”

At that, I have to smile. “That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it?”

She smiles, like I’ve caught her. “Hey, if I’m stumped, I turn to him. You two made it through life together for years without me, so he must have figured out some way to convince you he wasn’t going anywhere.”

I’m just about to respond when we’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. I frown and Moira’s eyes widen.

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask her.

Now she’s frowning, yanking back the blanket and climbing out of bed. “No.”

I gather up my clothes and get them back on before she can. She’s flustered, running around looking for her shirt.

“It’s downstairs,” I remind her, putting a reassuring hand at the small of her back.

She looks up at me just as the doorbell rings again.

“Dammit,” she mutters, raking her fingers through her hair. “Where’s my clip?” She asks, but then before I can even answer, she makes her way out of the bedroom.

I go over and grab the clip I tossed—I should probably be more careful about throwing all her shit when I’m undressing her—then follow her downstairs. When I get down there, she’s tugging her shirt down. She may have clothes on, but her hair is still all mussed, her clothing askew—far from the composed appearance she had when I got here.

She slides her hands down her hips one more hopeless time as she approaches the door. She knows she’s still not put together, but she opens the door anyhow.

My coat is still in a heap on the floor, so I pick it up and hang it on the coat tree before walking over to see who is at the door.