Tessa smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand. “It’s a date, handsome.”
“Liam’s asleep, too. It took a bit longer to get him down since he had that nice long nap this afternoon. Unlike Gilly, who didn’t sleep a wink today.”
Ian smiled at his wife as she joined him in the library. “She crashed the minute I buckled her into the car seat. Those two scamps of Julia’s wore my baby girl out. She’ll sleep very, very well tonight.”
“I agree.”
She curled up against him on the leather sofa as his arm slid around her shoulders. Ian was sipping a snifter of his favorite brandy and held the glass up to her lips. Tessa took a small drink, careful not to have too much since she was still nursing Liam. But since he wouldn’t need feeding again for a good six or seven hours, she knew it was safe to have a very modest amount of alcohol right now.
“I had a really good time today with Julia and Nathan,” she told her husband. “And Gilly loves to play with their boys, scamps or not.”
Ian nodded. “It was a very enjoyable day for sure. Hopefully now that both of the babies are a bit older we can get together more often. Perhaps after we return from Italy we can invite them over for dinner. After I secure some of our more priceless possessions down, that is. Though the twins do seem to be settling down just a bit.”
“I’d love that,” she told him. “Maybe over Labor Day weekend, as long as they don’t have plans already. And I do miss seeing Julia as often as I did when they still lived in San Francisco. I know Tiburon isn’t all that far away, but it’s not exactly the same as being in the city.”
“Hmm.” Ian took a sip of brandy before opening up a page on his tablet. “Funny you should mention that. Nathan made a point of telling me that a house in their neighborhood just came on the market, and that you and I should consider moving across the bay to Tiburon. I was just looking at the real estate listing when you came down from putting Liam to bed. It’s quite a spectacular place, Tessa. See for yourself.”
She took the tablet from him and began to scroll through the numerous photos of the admittedly impressive home located a block away from the Atwood’s. It was spacious and modern, with all sorts of luxurious touches and finishes. Best of all, it had a very large backyard, complete with swimming pool, and lots of space for children to play.
“It’s a beautiful house,” she acknowledged in a small voice as she handed him back the tablet. “And Julia also mentioned it to me. Is - is that something you’d like to do? Move, that is? I mean, we’ve never discussed the idea, and I always assumed you loved this house as much as I do.”
“I do. Of course I do,” he assured her as he set the tablet to one side before taking her in his arms. “Frankly, the thought of moving out of San Francisco never really occurred to me until Nathan broached the subject earlier today. But it made me think that a house like the one in Tiburon might be better for the children. They’d have that backyard and the pool, be near their friends. It would be a wonderful opportunity for them. And for you, too, darling, to have your best friend so close by.”
Tessa nodded. “All that is true. But it would make life more complicated for you, Ian. You’d have to commute each day, and drive yourself since I doubt Simon would come all the way to Tiburon to pick you up.”
He shrugged. “That’s not a major concern. It’s a relatively short drive, and even in traffic it shouldn’t take more than half an hour each way. And I’m very capable of driving myself, darling.”
“I know.” She began to twist her fingers together, trying to fight off her unease at the direction this conversation seemed to be heading in. “But, well, you already work so hard, and don’t get to spend nearly as much time as you’d like with the children. And if you have to commute half an hour each way, that’s one less hour a day for you to spend with them. And with me.”
“It wouldn’t be ideal, but it’s far better than many families cope with. What about the house itself, Tessa? Can you see yourself living in a place like that?” he inquired.
She shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, it’s certainly beautiful. But, well, it’s awfully - white, isn’t it? White walls, white marble floors, white furniture. And I realize part of that is how it’s been staged, but it just doesn’t feel warm to me. Not like our house.”
“That could be changed very easily,” he replied with a casual wave of his hand. “Just moving our own things in would instantly change the appearance.”
“I guess.” She looked down at her lap uncertainly.
He tipped her chin up to meet his concerned gaze. “You sound anything but convinced, Tessa. What’s wrong, love?”
She blinked back tears as she stared into his eyes. “It’s just that - well, this house was the very first place that ever truly felt like home to me,” she murmured huskily. “The first real house I ever lived in. I think I fell in love with this place the second I walked through the front door on the night of our first date.” She placed a hand on his chest, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I fell in love with you in this house. And I have so many wonderful memories already of this place, Ian. This house has character, charm, warmth. I had always planned to raise our children here, and knew that they would love this house as much as I do. And the thought of selling it, of moving somewhere else - it makes me very sad.”
“Darling.” He kissed away the tears that hovered on her eyelashes. “Then there’s no possible way I’d ever consider moving. I love this house, too, you know. And I was only thinking of Gilly and Liam when I brought up the idea. But they’ll do just fine growing up in San Francisco, won’t they?”
Tessa nodded happily. “Of course they will! I mean, we don’t have a pool of our own, but we can use the hotel pool anytime we like. And we happen to own a beach house. And we have access to several hundred hotels and resorts around the world, all of which have a pool.”
“Very true. And I’ve been thinking about making some changes in the backyard, putting in a lawn and a little playhouse for Gilly. It won’t be as large as the Atwood’s place, of course, but I think it would do nicely.”
She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh, my God! Gilly would adore having a little playhouse! I mean, we already have the playroom downstairs, but it would be nice for them to spend more time outdoors when the weather is nice.”
Ian sipped the brandy, then offered Tessa another drink. “One thing to consider, however, is the fact that this house only has five bedrooms. If you somehow manage to persuade me one day into having more children, those rooms would fill up very quickly, and we wouldn’t have a guest room for when my parents visit. They could always stay at the hotel, of course, but they’d miss having round the clock access to the children.”
Tessa tapped a forefinger against her lips thoughtfully. “We could always add a guest suite downstairs. Almost half of the lower level has never been built out.”
He grinned. “I can almost see the wheels spinning up here.” He kissed the top of her head. “But that’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Nathan one of these days about the possibility of designing something along those lines. And now that we’ve put the subject of moving to rest, it’s time for me to collect that prize you promised me earlier today.”
“With pleasure,” she whispered, twisting herself around until she was straddling his lap. “Did you, ah, have any specific ideas about how you’d like to receive your prize?”
“Several,” murmured Ian as he began to undo the buttons of her sleeveless blue cotton blouse. He trailed a line of kisses down her throat to the tops of her breasts. “I thought we’d begin with you sucking my cock.”
“Mmm,” she groaned as he unfastened her bra, allowing her breasts to spill freely into his eagerly waiting palms. “That - that sounds like a good place to begin.”
He bent his head, sucking both of her nipples in turn. “And then,” he continued huskily, “I’d be very pleased to return the favor. To spread you out on our bed, and lick you up until you come a few times.”
Tessa gasped as his hand slid down over her belly to cup her sex. “So - so far, s-s-so good,” she stammered, grinding herself against his hand. “What next?”
Ian slowly lowered the zipper of her white denim shorts, slipping his fingers beneath the lacy band of her panties to where she was already wet and eager. “Fucking you very hard for a very long time,” he purred in her ear, thrusting two fingers as deeply inside of her as he could reach. “Or then, there’s one more idea I was entertaining.”
“Oh, God.” She clutched his shoulders, her head falling back limply as his thumb flicked over her clit. “What - what is it?”
He smiled at her wickedly. “Tying you to the bed before we work our way down the list.”
Epilogue
Two and a half years later
“Now that, ladies, is a man who definitely knows how to wear a suit. Not to mention one who has aged very, very well. Just like a really expensive bottle of red wine. Which coincidentally is the same color as Mr. Suit’s tie.”
The three friends – and co-workers – had decided to stop in at the very posh Gregson Hotel on Nob Hill for an after-work cocktail before heading out to do some holiday shopping. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, and all of the department stores in the nearby Union Square shopping district were having big sales. The three woman, ranging in age from their late twenties to their mid thirties, were currently seated in the elegant lobby bar of San Francisco’s most luxurious hotel, and observing all the goings-on around them. The towering Christmas tree in the lobby was due to be lit shortly, and there were dozens of guests – many with small children – already assembled in anticipation of the annual event. The three women had already discovered, much to their dismay, that the tree lightning ceremony and accompanying festivities were strictly for hotel guests or those who had been otherwise invited.
But it hadn’t stopped the three women from craning their necks for a better view of the lobby to see what was unfolding, and definitely hadn’t deterred them from people watching. They were all single and currently unattached, and often patronized upscale establishments like the Gregson in the hopes of meeting some rich, handsome men – very much like the tall, dark haired one dressed in an obviously expensive black pinstriped suit who had caught their eye.
“Mmm, I’ll say,” agreed Gen, the youngest member of the group, a petite, dark-haired woman of Asian descent. “Though he’s probably at least twenty years older than I am. That’s just a little too old for me.”
The statuesque brunette, the one who’d first commented on the object of their attention, shook her head emphatically. “Honey, a man like that is never too anything. And I’m guessing he’s only in his early forties. Wouldn’t matter anyway, given what a hunk he is.”
Their slightly plump blonde companion nodded in agreement. “Stacey’s right. He’s the sort that will always look good, no matter what his age. You don’t see many men who look like him around these days. And it’s almost a given that someone that hot is already taken.”
Stacey, who was always the boldest, most outspoken, and most flirtatious of the trio, gave a little shrug. “Maybe not. Attractive guys like him wouldn’t need to settle for just one woman. Most of the really handsome men I’ve met over the years have a huge ego, and like to date a lot of different women. I’m betting Mr. Suit over there is no different.”
Gen elbowed Stacey in the ribs. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she challenged slyly. “You always say it never hurts to ask.”
Stacey hesitated, not wanting to admit to her friends that she felt oddly intimidated, and definitely out of her league, about approaching someone as obviously sophisticated and confident as the man in the pinstriped suite appeared. “I’m not sure I can even get to him,” she argued. “All of these people keep coming up and asking him questions, like he’s in charge of this place or something.”
“Maybe he is,” replied Carly, the blonde, who was the oldest one of the trio. “Maybe he’s the manager of the hotel or something. Let’s find out.”
Carly beckoned their waiter over, a young man with a charming Irish accent and a ready smile.
“Are you ladies ready for a refill?” he inquired. “Or perhaps some appetizers?”
Carly shook her head. “Can you tell us who that man is over there?” she asked, pointing in the direction of the dark haired man they’d been ogling. “He seems like someone important.”
The waiter nodded. “Of course. That would be Mr. Ian Gregson, the owner of this hotel.”
The three women let out a collective gasp at this news, with Gen giving Stacey another nudge.
“Good looking, powerful, and rich,” she murmured. “What are you waiting for, girl? Go give it your best shot.”
Stacey continued to hesitate, still unwilling to acknowledge her lack of confidence. “I don’t know,” she mused. “He doesn’t seem very approachable.”
Carly brightened. “I know. Why don’t you just send a drink over to him? That way if he refuses it, or doesn’t bother trying to find out who sent it, there’s no harm done.”
Stacey grinned at her friend. “Great idea! Now, what do you suppose Mr. Suit - I mean, Mr. Gregson - likes to drink? The Gregsons are British, right? So probably a martini, or Scotch.”
“I’d go with a martini,” advised Gen. “More sophisticated.”
Stacey nodded. “I agree. Martini it is. Now, let’s see. What should I write on the note?” She grabbed a cocktail napkin and fished a pen out of her purse. “It’s got to be something clever, something that will definitely get his attention. I know!”
She wrote on the paper napkin carefully, not wanting to tear it, then held it up triumphantly for her friends to read.
Gen rolled her eyes. “Really, Stace? That’s the best you could come up with? ‘Cheers! From the future mother of your children’. I think you’re losing your touch, girl.”
“And I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” drawled Carly, “but I’m pretty sure someone’s beaten you to the punch on that one, Stacey. Take a look.”
All three women turned to watch as first a little girl of about four years old ran excitedly towards Ian Gregson, quickly followed by a boy who was a year or so younger. Ian crouched down and scooped both children into a fierce hug, then pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks. The girl had long, curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, and was wearing a green velvet dress, while her brother had the same dark hair and hazel eyes as their father, and was dressed in gray pants and a navy pullover sweater. Both children were beautiful, and it was obvious how much they adored their handsome father.
Stacey gave a tiny shrug. “Just because he’s hugging them doesn’t mean he’s their father. He could be their uncle, for example.”
Gen shook her head. “The boy looks just like him. And if I’m not mistaken the little girl looks exactly like her mother. See for yourself.”
The last tiny bit of hope Stacey had left vanished the second she set eyes on the tall, shapely blonde woman who was pushing a very plush, expensive-looking twin baby stroller. Seated inside the stroller were a baby boy and his twin sister, who appeared to be eight or nine months old. The woman, who looked to be in her early thirties, was dressed to kill in a red sheath dress with long sleeves and a wrapover neckline. The dress clung to the blonde’s sleek curves, revealing the long, slender length of her legs and feet that were encased in black patent Louboutin stilettos. Stacey knew without having to ask that the ruby and diamond pendant and matching stud earrings were real. The blonde was drop dead gorgeous, perfectly groomed, and looked exactly like the sort of woman Ian Gregson would have taken for his wife.
Stacey scowled. “No way did that woman given birth to four kids. I mean, come on. Not even the tiniest bulge to her tummy. And her boobs are too perfect to have ever nursed a baby.”
Gen polished off her drink. “She must have had a tummy tuck after having those twins. Maybe a boob lift, too. And money goes a long way to making a person look good. She probably works out twice a
day with a personal trainer, has a full time nanny, and a private chef.”
Stacey brightened as a sudden thought crossed her mind. “Maybe she’s the nanny,” she said hopefully. “I mean, she does seem a little young for him.”
Gen and Carly gave their friend scathing looks, with the older woman shaking her head in denial.
“Honey, I’ve never seen a nanny dressed like that, and wearing Louboutins to boot,” pointed out Carly. “And what woman in her right mind would hire a nanny who looked like that? Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s not accepted behavior to French kiss your nanny in public.”
Stacey sighed in resignation as she watched the debonair Mr. Gregson wrap an arm around the blonde’s narrow waist as he pulled her in for a long, deep kiss. “I suppose you’re right. Damn,” she cursed softly. “I guess what they say about all the good ones already being taken is true.”
She finished her own drink before picking up her purse. “Let’s go, girls. Nothing like a little retail therapy to cure a broken heart.”
Gen gave her friend a look of disbelief. “How in the world can your heart be broken? You just saw the guy less than ten minutes ago. Besides, I’ve got a feeling that you’re way, way more than ten minutes too late in staking a claim. The way he’s kissing her right now, I’d say it was love at first sight with those two.”
Ian was giving her one of those smiles again – the sort that still made her pulse race, her nipples harden, and her panties to become very, very wet. But then, after being his lover for more than eight years, his wife for over seven years, and the mother of his children for four and a half years, he still managed to excite and arouse her every bit as much as he had the very first time she’d seen him. She’d been a naïve, inexperienced girl of twenty-two at the time, even though she had already been married for several years, and had nearly swooned every time her handsome boss walked pass her desk. And now, a decade later, she still felt a little dizzy whenever she was near her husband. They were more in love than ever, more devoted to each other, and were still scorching the sheets of their bed nearly every night.
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