“Very eloquent, Ash. Really.” He squeezed my shoulder and stood, then offered to pull me up.
“I’m not an old lady. I can manage standing up just fine.”
“Okay, Miss Grumpy Knickers. I was trying to be a gentleman.” He turned and headed to the other sofa.
God, I was a witch sometimes. I was clearly channeling Haven. “Sorry. And you don’t need to try. It comes naturally to you,” I said as I caught up with him.
“That’s better.” He nudged my shoulder. “You see? You can be charming when you put your mind to it. Now, this I like.” He flung himself full length across the cushions of the sofa. “I’m going to ask some random stranger to lie with me and test out the spooning capabilities of this sofa if you’re still refusing to cooperate.”
“Yeah? Good luck with that. You wouldn’t dare.”
He rested his head on his elbow and raised an eyebrow. “You’re daring me? You’re actually daring me?”
Richard seemed to have loosened up in the last couple of weeks. I suppose without the pressure of a relationship, I had too, and we were getting on better than ever. I’d started to see his fun side. My feelings for Luke had led to me label Richard as not being the one. I’d thought Luke was . . . but I hadn’t made that work either.
Perhaps I’d been wrong to write off Richard too soon.
“Excuse me, Miss.” Richard leapt to his feet and caught the attention of a woman with a pushchair. I watched, open-mouthed.
“My wife,” he said, pointing to me, “doesn’t like public displays of affection. She won’t spoon with me on this sofa to see if we fit. Would you mind standing in for her?”
The woman turned her head toward me, and I could do nothing but shrug. She looked as if she were in pain, but replied, “I’m sorry. I’m running late.” She scurried to the opposite end of the show room, toward the lifts.
Grinning, Richard turned to me. I rolled my eyes. “For the record,” he said, “it’s not a good idea to dare me to do anything. I find it impossible to pass up a challenge.”
He winked at me as if I were next.
“Pinot noir, right?” Richard asked as he passed me a glass of wine.
“Perfect, thanks.” How had he known which wine I liked? I’d had a really good time shopping with him. He’d bought the gray corner-not-a-corner, sofa, despite him being unable to spoon before he purchased. He’d been funny and laid back and all the things I’d wanted him to be when we’d dated. I genuinely didn’t want our time together to be over, so when he asked me again to go back to his flat for dinner, I’d gone along with it.
“How come you moved?”
He joined me on his old sofa and rested his sock-covered feet on the table in front of him. “I think I was holding off until I found someone to share a place with. And then, after we . . .” He paused, and I took a sip of my wine, trying to ignore the discomfort that pushed between us. “I just thought I needed to get on and live in the place I wanted to.”
I nodded, struck that he hadn’t simply moved on to the next girl when I’d ended things. He’d got on with his life, but kept the door between us open. He’d basically done what I’d asked Luke to.
He turned toward me, rearranging his body so he was sitting with one leg hitched on the cushion, his arm resting on the back of the sofa and his hand just behind my head.
“It’s a nice place.” I glanced around the room. Everything was neat and matching in various tones of gray. I turned to look at him.
He was watching me. “It’s not very family friendly, but I reckon I can move again when the time comes.”
“You feel ready for a family?”
“Yeah, I want to find that special someone and have a bunch of rowdy kids. Don’t you?”
I thought about Luke, Haven and I sitting under the magnolia tree, reading, fighting, laughing. “At some point.”
“I thought that maybe you and I were right. I think that’s why I was so tense when we were dating.”
“You were tense?” Had I not seen the real him?
“Yeah, I was crazy for you, and wanted to make it all just so.” He shrugged. He seemed to find it easy to be open with me about how he’d felt, and I really liked that he did.
“Crazy?” I asked. Had we been dating long enough for him to be crazy for me?
“You know how I felt—how I feel. I could see how we could have been so perfect together. I was impatient and pushed when I shouldn’t have.”
“Richard . . .” I suppose we were bound to have this conversation at some point. We’d been spending time together, and we’d never discussed what had happened between us. Still, it felt uncomfortable.
“I just wanted you to know that I get it. I understand that I got it wrong. I don’t want you to think that I’m a total idiot.”
I shifted slightly so I was facing him, mirroring the position of his legs with mine. “I don’t think you’re an idiot. Not at all. But we learn from each relationship, don’t we? And we take that into our next one.”
“Maybe . . . it’s just . . . I think when it’s like this between us, I wonder if there’s a second chance in there somewhere . . . for you and me.” His dark brown eyes were staring at me intently.
I took a deep breath. If I hadn’t been lost in the fog of Luke and I, I probably would have seen this coming more clearly. Maybe I’d even want that second chance.
“I don’t think I properly gave you a first chance, Richard. And that wasn’t your fault—it was entirely mine. I was unfair to you.” I needed to be honest with him. “It’s just, I’ve had feelings about someone else for a very long time.” I stared into my wine, embarrassed that I’d perhaps led him on, even though I’d truly been trying to get over Luke when we dated.
“Luke,” he said and I cringed. Was it that obvious? I nodded.
“But you’re not together?”
My heart ached at his words. “No, we’re not together.”
“Have you ever been? I mean, is it unrequited?”
My cheeks heated. It felt wrong talking to him about this, especially as Richard had just declared he’d been crazy for me. “There was a brief . . . I really have no idea.” Luke had told me that he had feelings for me—romantic feelings—and the sex had been incredible, but I didn’t know what future there might be for us. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to move on from him. Not yet.
Richard’s fingers crept along my arm. “He’s a fool if he doesn’t love you.”
“Richard . . .”
“I mean it. I get that you’re caught up with him, but if he doesn’t get what an amazing, sexy, funny person you are, then he’s a giant idiot.”
I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. He was being so kind and understanding. A huge part of me just wanted to be taken in his arms and comforted.
“If and when you’re ready to start dating again, I’d try not to mess it up,” he continued.
“Richard—” He was being so nice, and I didn’t know how to react.
“Don’t say anything. Just think about it. No pressure.”
I opened my eyes and stared at my lap.
“Hey, don’t be sad. I wasn’t trying to induce depression.” He stroked my jaw. “Come on,” he said, jumping off the sofa. “You can help me with dinner. Maybe I can win you over with my mad chef skills. Let’s press pause on this conversation for tonight, and just have a nice evening. Agreed?”
I smiled. It was just what he needed to say. I wanted time to process what he’d suggested. He was a good guy who wanted a second chance. I couldn’t just dismiss that, could I? But at the same time, I wasn’t ready to give up on my fairy tale.