But then he said, “It’s probably good that we didn’t mess around back then. Don’t you think?”
I blinked, then recovered fast. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. It would have made things weird with us.”
“Right,” he said, but there was something unconvincing in his voice. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure, but you’re probably right. It might not have been worth the risk.”
I reached for my wine and he picked up his fork.
He’d said might.
Might wasn’t a certainty. Might left room for doubt. Might created space for hope.
Beneath the table, I crossed my fingers.
After dinner, I loaded the dishwasher while Hutton put the leftovers away and then cleaned the stainless pans by hand. I laughed as I watched him at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing away with a sponge. “I bet you’re the only billionaire washing pots and pans tonight,” I teased.
“Probably,” he said.
“I think it’s good.” I patted his shoulder. “Shows character. Like you haven’t forgotten where you came from. Hand them to me and I’ll dry.”
Side by side, we got everything washed, dried, and put away. When only our wine glasses were left, Hutton glanced at the half-empty bottle. “Do you want to stay a little longer? Finish the wine?”
I hesitated. “If we finish that bottle, I won’t be able to drive home.”
“So stay over,” he said. “I have plenty of guest rooms.”
“A sleepover?” I feigned being scandalized, touching my fingertips to my chest. “Before we’re married? What would the townsfolk say?”
He laughed, grabbing the bottle and emptying it into our glasses. “They’re probably already talking about us. Come on, let’s go out on the deck. I don’t think the rain has started yet.”
Outside, the air was thick with the sharp, ominous scent of ozone. I sank into the cushions at one end of an outdoor couch, and Hutton sat down next to me, on the center cushion.
Close.
There were no other houses nearby, no lights in the woods, no noise except for the crickets and warm, summer wind rustling through the branches. I tucked my feet underneath me and smoothed my dress over my thighs. “It’s so dark out here. So isolated.”
“That’s what sold me on the place.”
I laughed, poking his shoulder. “You’re such a grumpy old man.”
“I’m twenty-eight. I’m a grumpy young man.”
“Fine. You’re a grumpy young man.” I sipped my wine. “But you know what? You have to deal with a lot of people wanting to be up in your personal business all the time, so I shouldn’t criticize. You deserve privacy when you want it.”
“Can you please tell my mother that?”
I laughed. “I wonder what happened with Cleopatra tonight.”
“No idea. She said she was going to introduce her to Harvey. He’s my dad’s widowed friend.”
“Aw, that’s nice. She just wants people to be happy.”
“You can be happy without a serious relationship,” Hutton said, a tad defensively.
“True.” I took another sip of wine and thought I heard thunder rumbling in the distance. “Unless you’re lonely, or you really want a family.”
“I’m never lonely,” he said.
“What about a family?” I asked. “Do you ever think about getting married? Having kids?”
Hutton set an ankle on the opposite knee. “Not really. I don’t know if I’d make a good dad.”
Surprised, I shifted to face him, my knees bumping up against his thigh. I rested my elbow along the back of the couch and propped my head in my hand. “What makes you say that? You’re great with your nieces and nephew.”
“Yeah, but being an uncle is different. It’s less pressure. You can just have fun with them. You’re not really responsible for their upbringing.” He paused. “I don’t know if I’d have the temperament to be a good dad. I get really irritated and impatient sometimes. I can be irrational and stubborn. My brother-in-law, Neil, is so easygoing and relaxed.”
“All different kinds of people can be great dads. My dad was stubborn too. He definitely got irritated. And he had such a foul mouth, the swear jaw would be overflowing by the end of the week.” I laughed at the memory of his stuffing dollar bills into it after a lengthy rant that included several F bombs. “He wasn’t perfect. But he was an awesome dad.”