The First Taste(132)

I’m relieved. “We can do that,” I say. “As long as you’re serious.”

“I am. It’s not exactly easy for me to ask you for help,” she points out. “I wouldn’t if I didn’t need it.”

“True.” I’ve only ever wanted Shana to do well. She’ll always be in Bell’s life, and Bell’s happiness is as important to me as my own. “How about we sit and talk next month when you pick up Bell for the weekend? You can even stay for dinner.”

“That’d be great. I don’t have much saved yet—”

“Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back when your salon opens by doing my hair.” As soon as I say it, we both laugh nervously. I’ve taken it a step too far. I don’t think Shana nor I would ever be comfortable in such an intimate situation. “Let’s just stick to business,” I suggest. “I’ll put next month on my calendar, and I’ll make sure Sadie’s here too.”

Once Sadie had her little girl and avec closed its doors, she and I partnered up for PR consulting. We’ve had small business clients all over the tri-state area, from florists to cafés to a grungy but successful Jersey auto shop—despite its stubborn owner’s protests that they were doing fine without “bullshitting people.” We’ve even taken on a couple charities pro bono, something I’d never considered doing with avec.

Between my biweekly visits and Andrew’s insistence on getting us a hotel in the city one night a month so I don’t feel trapped in the suburbs, I haven’t even had a chance to miss New York.

We say goodbye to Shana, and as soon as the door closes behind her, Andrew’s and my attention goes to Bell. We can’t help it—she’s nearly vibrating with excitement. “Can we show him now?” she asks me. “Please? I’ve been dying all morning.”

I nod my permission, and she grabs his hand, pulling him away.

“Ah.” Andrew looks back, lifting one eyebrow. “The big surprise.”

“I think we should blindfold him,” I say, covering his eyes from behind, sweet revenge for all the times he’s blindfolded me.

He groans.

“Maybe gag him too,” I whisper in his ear, earning myself a chuckle from him.

We pass through the bedroom to the bathroom. Sensing our location, Andrew says, “If you guys put that goddamn Little Mermaid shower curtain in my room when I told you not to—”

I remove my hands and watch his face. He blinks a few times, scanning the bathroom that’s double the size it was when he left. “What the . . .”

“Surprise,” Bell squeals, jumping up and down. She runs over to the shiny new bathtub and perches on the edge. “For your bubble baths, Daddy!”

He looks from the tub to me. “You did this?”

“They installed it while we were away. Rush job.”

He shakes his head, his mouth open. “I can’t believe it. This must’ve been a huge project.”

“It’ll be worth it.” I lower my voice. “I’ve missed it, taking a bath with you.”

“And look,” Bell says, lifting a bottle of Glenlivet from inside with both hands. There’s a red bow around the neck. “Adult juice.”

Andrew grins, taking the whisky from her. He unscrews the cap and raises it in the air for a toast. “To my girls,” he says. “I’m the luckiest son of a you-know-what around.”

“Bitch,” Bell says. “Son of a bitch.”

“Language,” I say with a defeated sigh. There are years of damage done from growing up around crass men that even I can’t undo.

Andrew takes a swig, then passes it to me. I do the same, and like every time we settle in with a glass of Glenlivet, the first taste reminds me of our first night together.

Andrew sets the bottle on the counter and puts a heavy arm around my shoulders. “You’re the best, you know that?” he murmurs, pulling me into him. He kisses the tip of my nose and whispers, “What better gift could you give me then more naked time with you?”

I tilt my face up to his, asking for a real kiss. He gives it to me, sliding his tongue along the seam of my lips and slipping it into my mouth.

“Not in lust with you, babe,” he says.

“No,” I agree. “You love me.”

“You love me too.”

We’re gazing into each other’s eyes when Bell speaks again.

“Hmm,” she says to herself. “This stuff smells funny.”

Andrew and I whip our heads to her. She’s picked up the bottle from the counter and is two seconds from taking her first sip of whisky. We lunge at the same moment, yelling in unison, “Don’t drink that!”

There’s no doubt about it—Andrew and I have our hands full, and that’s not changing any time soon.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.





Thank you for reading The First Taste. Keep clicking to read the first chapter of Sadie and Nathan’s story, Slip of the Tongue. If you’ve already read it, I recommend trying The Cityscape Series next. Stay notified of new releases, sales and monthly newsletters: Join the Mailing List

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