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Technically, I own a penthouse in Tribeca, but that’s semantics and a detail that isn’t relevant right now. What is relevant is the whole truth, so I give her that, “I also own properties in California, Boston, Nantucket, Vermont, and Paris. Also, I have a yacht.”

I added on the yacht because it was willed to me by a former client. It came as a surprise, and although it’s currently anchored in Nantucket Harbor, I’m rarely there. Selling it is an option and something I’ll likely do one day, but for now, I’m holding onto it because I remember how much the man who left it to me loved the sea.

“You have a yacht?” She smiles for the first time since we left her bar. “Why?”

“That’s a long story,” I say. “I’ll explain it all.”

“Right.” She nods before her gaze shifts back to the sidewalk. “Why did we go to Brooklyn and not Tribeca?”

“Fear,” I answer honestly.

Her steps slow. “Fear?”

I stop in place to give my answer the attention it deserves. I look into her eyes. I want to grab hold of her hands to feel a connection to her as I crack open my heart and let her in, but she’s got both of them tucked into the front pockets of her jeans.

“What do you mean by that, William?” she presses. “I don’t understand.”

I’m not sure I do either, but I try to explain, “I’ve never been in a relationship, Opal. I’ve always engaged in one-night stands. Anything beyond that felt complicated.”

“You thought I’d be a one-night stand,” she says without a hint of bitterness in her tone. “I thought you’d be a one-night stand, too.”

That admission takes me by surprise. “You did?”

“I told you I wanted things to be casual,” she reminds me as the wind whips a few strands of her hair across her cheek. “I needed things to be.”

I’d ask why, but I’m using my sixty minutes to plead my case, not to interrogate her.

“When I did hook up with a woman, it was usually at her place.” I close my eyes briefly. “Sometimes a hotel, or occasionally the apartment in Brooklyn.”

“Never in Tribeca?” she asks as she starts walking again.

I do, too, matching the stride of each of my steps to hers. “No. I’ve never taken a woman there.”

“You’re taking me there now.”

I glance at her to find her eyes set on me. “I want you to see it. I want to see you in my home.”

The corners of her lips curve up, but that stops before a smile appears. “You were fearful of letting a woman into your life, weren’t you?”

“I never thought I’d want to.”

“That’s changed?” Her brows lift.

“You changed it, Opal.” I take a breath. “As soon as you arrived at my apartment in Brooklyn, I felt this need to tell you I didn’t live there anymore, but I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted you to stay and eat pizza with me and…”

“Make love,” she whispers, but I still hear it over the rush of traffic and the voices of the people passing us by.

“Yes.” I nod faintly. “It was wrong. I was wrong. Then you said you weren’t looking for anything serious.”

“So, you invited me back there. I get it.”

“For the record, I agreed to the casual thing so I could be with you whenever you’d let me.” I chuckle. “I craved you, Opal. I crave you. I’d sit next to you for hours just watching you read a book.”

She laughs. “That would be boring.”

I stop her with a light touch to her elbow. “It would be a gift to me. Every single second I can look at your face, or listen to you breathe, or hear you laugh is a goddamn gift.”

She stares at my face. “You mean that, don’t you?”