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“Let you?” He grinned. “Yes, I would. I’ve never done it, but I did read up on it. It’s something I can do. Does it frighten you?”

All these questions that I didn’t know the answers to. The amount of thinking I’d had to do over the pastmonths, I felt like I’d put my head through that psychological assessment myself. Perhaps I needed to sit down with The Devil, or whatever he was called, and have my head examined.

“Do you know what frightens me?” I said, shaking my head, then planting a soft kiss on his forehead, still stroking his balls.

Multitasking like a pro.

“I am terrified of flying. Never done it, but even the thought of it gives me heart palpitations. I have never been abroad. Never left the country. Never had a foreign holiday or been past the pick-up lane at any airport. Even seeing an aircraft in the sky makes me nervous.”

“Seriously?” He sat up. It made me sit up too.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. But it’s so ingrained in me that I can’t even start to figure out how to solve it.”

“Sorry. That was rude of me, calling it ridiculous, but darling…”

Darling. He’d called me that. Me. I smiled. Like a loon.

“You’re kidding?” One eyebrow raised.

“No. Nononooo… I am terrified of flying. I just—you called me darling.”

“You are. Darling. It’s just a term of endearment.”

“I know. But it was…nice. I like it.”

“Do you prefer anything else? Baby? Sweetheart?”

Laughter. How I loved it. His and mine.

“Darling. I like it.”

I wasn’t even blushing. How things were changing.

“I love flying,” he said. “I always have. The roars of the engine, the absolute power as you take off, how your body is pressed back into the seat.”

“Stop,” I begged. “You’re making me feel sick just talking about it.”

He held me. Wrapped me up.

“And now you want to fuck me.”

Crude. How did we flip-flop back and forth like this? My heart was beating too fast.

“It’s fine,” he whispered. “You’re allowed to be scared. But one day, I want to take the kids somewhere nice. Just a quiet house on the beach.”

“We have those in Devon. I used to go with Reuben all the time. A caravan.”

“A caravan.”

“Not posh enough for you?”

“No.” He laughed. “Actually, that would be nice. Would we all fit in a caravan?”

“We might have to have a couple. I bring my kids. You bring yours.”

“Can you imagine? My Constance holidaying with the… What’s he called? Your Gray?”