After I get Maggie settled and go back to the main part of the house, I find Gordo in the living room. He’s feeding a bearded dragon—this one is called Hector—a cricket clasped between tweezers, and while I love our new life, I could still do without this part. I go to the kitchen and get dinner started.
Turns out Gordo is a terrible cook. He’s a great baker—he’s talking about selling fresh sourdough at the farmer’s market this summer—but he sucks at making actual meals. All the time we lived together, I assumed we lived on ramen and takeout because I didn’t have time to sit before I’d be back on my computer, scheduling calls and hunting up new connections. Turns out Gordo didn’t know how to make anything else.
We’re working on it. So far, we’ve learned to make chicken pot pie and chicken à la king, and last week we made chicken king pie because we didn’t have enough ingredients for either. It was still pretty tasty.
I’ve pulled up a recipe for cabbage rolls that I found on Pinterest last week, and I’m getting the ground pork out of the fridge when I realize Gordo is looming in the kitchen doorway.
“Jesus, don’t scare me.” I put a hand to my chest. He smiles softly, but he doesn’t budge. I tug at my T-shirt self-consciously. “What?”
“You move differently,” he says.
I flush at the idea he’s been watching me. He watched me for so long and I never realized, but now that I know, I can’t help the way it gets my blood stirring.
“What do you mean?”
He takes his time as he pushes off the doorframe. His steps are deliberate and his gaze is on me the whole way across the kitchen floor. It’s like being stalked by a gentle predator, and I am rock hard by the time he folds me in his arms and kisses me.
“You used to rush through the condo like a frightened bird. Like if you ever landed, something would eat you. You don’t move like that anymore. You’re taking space. Time. It’s good to see.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t mind if you ate me.”
He lifts me up, the way he knows I love. “That can be arranged.”
I purr as I wrap my knees around his hips and tangle my fingers in his hair. “What about dinner?”
“There’s ramen in the cupboard.”
I was sort of looking forward to cabbage rolls. But not as much as I’m looking forward to Gordo devouring me.
“Did you check on the horses?” I ask as he carries me upstairs.
“Yes.”
“Dogs are fed?”
“Dogs are all fed.”
“Did you check the drip in the chameleon’s—” But I don’t get to finish as I’m launched airborne and thump down on the mattress with a laugh, which quickly gets smothered as Gordo covers my body with his.
His thumb on my bottom lip is delicious. His lips on my temple are divine. The promise of what will be coming soon—me! I’ll be coming soon!—as he grinds against my hip makes me shiver.
He says, “Are you happy?”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Absolutely.”
“Do you miss it? Before?”
I pause. He’s never asked me quite so directly before. I make sure to look him right in the eye so he knows I’m serious. “Not in the least.”
His smile is a rainbow. He kisses each of my eyebrows. My cheeks. My mouth.
He says, “I love you, Bailey.”
“I know.”
It’s our thing. Han and Leia. Gordo’s a fan of Scarlet Johansson, but he’s a huge Star Wars nerd. We’ve watched all the movies. Prequels. Sequels. Spin-offs. Cartoons. I’m not sure I understand it all, but then I don’t understand the magic that brought Gordo into my life either, and I’ve learned it’s best not to question it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. We have plenty of other horses to look after.
“Bailey,” Gordo says as he kisses my throat.
“Yeah?”
“When Elias comes to visit, maybe we can talk about adding an emu rescue?”
I love that he always phrases these things like questions. As if I’m going to say no. As if I don’t go along with every single idea he has. As if there are many emus to rescue in and around Toronto, but that’s not the point. I love that he asks.
“Whatever you want,” I say.
I would do anything for this man. Being with him is the only benefit I need.