Sofia with Ryan chapter 3 – short quote
He slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “I’m down with chasing our dreams if you are.”

“Pinch me, because I’m still not sure this is real.”

He shot me a look, his eyes flashing like a lion prepared to pounce. I squealed, and we ended up in an urgent tangle of arms and legs. Together again, all doubts and fears evaporated without a trace. I allowed myself to be engulfed in a bubble of happiness, aware that living in the moment meant appreciating the good ones, because they only ever lasted for just so long.

 

Sofia: Sightseeing in London; background and setting the stage
London splayed out before me in a clamor of noise and light—a steady stream of traffic and pedestrians rushing past me. I counted off the familiar sights, walking at a brisk pace as if I were on a mission. The boxy London black cabs still chased each other through the crowded streets, still driving on the wrong side of the road. And yet again, I failed to look to my right and nearly stepped off the curb into oncoming traffic. I passed a shiny red telephone booth and flashed on a distant memory—feeding coins into the box, desperate to call home.

I stepped inside and ran my fingers over the card reader, wondering how I’d traveled abroad for the first time without a cell phone (it was useless for roaming in Europe back then)‌ and no established credit. I’d had nothing but the cash in the money belt strapped to my body. Maybe youth made you fearless because you didn’t know any better—didn’t know the disastrous things that could happen. With age came wisdom gained from experiences that taught you to be cautious—maybe too cautious. Now, I was choosing to forget about being afraid. To live as if I didn’t know any better.

 

This alone could be short quote:
Maybe youth made you fearless because you didn’t know any better—didn’t know the disastrous things that could happen. With age came wisdom gained from experiences that taught you to be cautious—maybe too cautious. Now, I was choosing to forget about being afraid. To live as if I didn’t know any better.

 

Another short: Sofia – Location: Leicester Square, London – A look back in time
I sank onto a bench canopied by lacy tree branches, while the wind rustled the leaves, scattering green castaways like confetti. My mind drifted back twenty-five years. Twenty-five? How was that possible? Nostalgia settled over me, and random memories flickered through my head like the jittery film of an old home movie. Like when my best friend, Anne, and I splurged on cheap theater tickets to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream, then climbed what felt like a million stairs to seats so high the ballet dancers looked like tiny, graceful dots.

It was hard to believe so many years had slipped by since that trip because I’d always planned to come back, but life sent me in another direction. Marriage, career, and motherhood had a way of filing away dreams like important papers you swear you’ll need someday but never actually dig out of the drawer. Now, here I was at forty-nine, trying to pick up where my twenty-four-year-old self had left off. I was trying my best to channel her, yet the whole “living adventurously” thing felt a bit blurry around the edges, like looking through a camera that couldn’t quite find its focus.

Sofia: intimacy focus – Sofia arrives in London. Ryan comes to the hotel, finds her in the bathtub, and he climbs in with her.

“You seem happy to see me,” I observed.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, the tip of his nose grazing mine.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, then moaned softly at the feel of his lips, the sweet taste of him.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed, cupping my breast in his palm. “Missed this…” Taking me in his mouth, my response came as a gasp—white, hot bolts of pleasure pulsing through me. Who needed words anyway? My brain short-circuited; my lips forgetting how to speak apart from whispering, “oh” and “yes” and “don’t stop” while the water rolled and splashed around us, until finally I screamed his name, the sound echoing against the tile walls. A roar rumbled from his chest—a perfect sound mingling with my voice—then the softest “I love you.”

Sofia – excerpt from chapter 1 – provides context (talking with flight attendant) Can be shortened.

“How long will you be in London?” Elaine asked.

“A few weeks, I’m not sure yet.” Me—the ultimate planner—winging it? “It’s sort of open-ended. I think I’ll be in Europe for two months, traveling to various places.” I hesitated, because how could I explain I was choosing to spend my severance package on this trip to Europe instead of job hunting—that I was hurling myself into a new life, a new relationship, without a clue about the direction this would lead?

She tilted her head with curiosity. “Business or pleasure?”

I barked out a laugh. “Definitely pleasure. I’m joining my boyfriend.” The word still felt foreign on my tongue. After years spent in romantic exile, being part of a couple seemed surreal. “Ryan works in London part-time—his main office is in San Francisco, where we met. So, I’m basically following him across an ocean.” I shook my head. This was coming out all wrong. “Not that I’m desperate or anything. I mean, I lost my job, but the timing worked out perfectly because Ryan suggested I come live with him. Well, travel together, since he moves around constantly. We’re returning to Barcelona at some point because that city holds special meaning for us—” I cut myself off, cheeks burning. Apparently, my anxiety had me spiraling out of control, transforming me from an articulate professional into a babbling teenager who just discovered her first crush.

Her eyebrows shot up while her forehead remained suspiciously smooth. “Ryan? That wouldn’t be Ryan Hunter, would it?” Her voice climbed several octaves.

“Yes… do you know him?” Something cold twisted in my stomach.

“Know him? Um. Not personally, but he’s one of our frequent flyers.” The way she scrutinized me made every hair on my neck stand at attention. “He’s your boyfriend?”

I nodded, shrinking into my luxurious seat like a deflating balloon.

This time her smile looked painted on, her tone as artificially sweet as high-fructose corn syrup. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” Watching her slim figure trail through the aisle of the cabin, I wondered if I was projecting or if the twist in my gut was justified. Anyone who knew Ryan might take one look at me and wonder, Really? Him… and her? I had questioned that myself when we first met. Despite his unwavering attention, I wasn’t sure if I would ever get past the age difference when someone like Elaine was sizing me up.

When Ryan and I were alone, it was just too good to waste time worrying about how the world viewed me. In his eyes, I was perfect. He didn’t notice the saggy bits or dimpled skin. According to my best friend, Madison, I had a figure most women would kill for and could pass for a forty-year-old on a good day. Most days were not that good, but I’d made peace with the crows feet and that little belly pooch that refused to disappear. After all, at one time it was a baby bump, then a beach ball. I’d earned that lump.

Still, a thought niggled its way into my brain. There was something suspicious about Elaine’s reaction to me. Call it women’s intuition, but somehow, I just knew. Had she hoped to snag him for herself? I couldn’t blame her; Ryan was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. His image should appear on a Pinterest board titled: Hot Guys with Dark Curly Hair and Piercing Blue Eyes. How many flight attendants and restaurant hostesses had set their sights on him?

Sofia – with Ryan in their temporary apartment in Barcelona (lighthearted and humorous; banter; Sofia trying to live like a local)

“I’ll need to work for a while. Sorry,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, his mood already shifted into serious financier mode.

“No problem. I’ll go get some groceries.” I grabbed the granny cart from the entryway. I never understood why it had earned that name, because everyone in Barcelona had one, regardless of age or actual grandmother status. After all, it wasn’t like you could pull your SUV into a parking lot and load up the trunk.

My feet remembered the route to the market, which surprised me, but I was still dubious about finding my way back to the apartment without the aid of GPS. I managed to buy bread, pointing mutely at a round loaf while the cashier rattled off something about “cortado.”

“Oh, sí, cortado, por favor,” I responded, feeling like an absolute genius when she actually sliced it.

At the fruit stand, I played grocery store charades, pointing and smiling while fruit flies conducted aerial maneuvers around the ripe fruit. A fan circulated the sweet smell of berries and melons and peaches; the heady combination wafting through my nostrils. The vendor and I communicated in a combination of Spanish and hand signals; me pointing and saying “vale” because I’d heard the locals repeating this word everywhere I went. The pronunciation actually sounded like, “baalay,” The tone undulated like a song, bouncing from one octave to another, then syllables slammed into each other in a rush at the end. “Vale… vale… sí… vale, vale, vale.” For all I knew, I’d agreed to buy several kilograms of kale. Fake it till you make it, right? At least I sounded like a local.

By the time I reached the apartment, I had decided on a plan, because having a plan meant I could avoid spiraling out of control. “I’m going to enroll in language school,” I announced to Ryan’s back.

“What? Oh, that’s a good idea,” he responded without looking up, absorbed in the digital wonderland of mergers and acquisitions.

I wheeled the groceries into the kitchen, a little annoyed, but could I be? I reminded myself that his job involved juggling several potential deals at the same time and that I would always have to compete for his time.

While I prepared pan con tomate—rubbing garlic and fresh tomato over toasted bread, then drizzling it with olive oil—the pieces finally clicked into place. Since my arrival in London, I’d been drifting like a tourist in my own life. Ryan had his purpose, his trajectory. But what did I have?

The aroma of garlic and fresh bread filled the kitchen, and just as I bit into the toast, the flavors exploding on my taste buds, Ryan called out, “What are you making in there? Smells good.”

I laughed—actually, I honked. “Hah! So, now you’re paying attention. Typical.”

He appeared in the doorway, barefoot and confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said, offering him the plate with a wry smile. “You barely acknowledged me when I came in, but the smell of food sure got your attention. I see where I rank.”

He demolished half a slice in one bite, eyes rolling back as he savored it. “Damn, that’s good. And I’m sorry, Sofia. Working from home is going to be an adjustment for both of us.” Then he planted a garlic-tomato-flavored kiss on my lips.

“I know,” I said between kisses. “We’ll get the hang of the routine. As I mentioned, ahem… I’m going to start studying Spanish, so I’ll be busy too.”

“Right, I did hear you.” His phone chirped from the living room, and he had the grace to look apologetic. “Great idea. We can practice together.”

“Go,” I said, practically pushing the plate into his hands. “Take your carbs and conquer the business world.”

Ryan -excerpt from steamy office sex (for steamier blogs) But note that sex scenes are not the predominant focus of the novel.

Sofia was out of breath from our sprint, and her brows arched when I flipped a switch to darken the glass, then locked my office door. Her expression changed in an instant. Eyes locking on mine, her gaze turned molten as I strode toward her, removing my belt before I pressed my body against hers, my fingers threading in her hair, kissing her hard. Her lips parted, tongue exploring mine as her breathing became ragged. I could feel her heartbeat quicken against my chest, and I didn’t have to wonder if she’d be into this.

I walked her backward until her ass hit my desk, then hoisted her up on the edge. “I’ve been neglecting you.” Unbuttoning the top of her dress, I planted kisses down her neck, then to the swell of her breasts. “Should I remedy that now?”

“Oh, yes… Please.” Her voice, resonating from deep in her throat, was like catnip, making me even harder.

With one hand, I cupped her breast, while I made quick work of unzipping my pants with the other. Her chest heaved against my mouth, her breaths coming faster and faster. When I slid my hand up her thigh and ran a finger against the fabric of her panties, she made those soft keening sounds I loved, but when she cried out, my other hand covered her mouth.

“Shush. We’ll get caught.”

She nodded and pressed her lips together, her head lolling back as she climbed higher.

“Sofia,” I said into her ear, “tell me what you want.”

“I want… you. All of you,” she panted, her warm breath gusting against my cheek.

“You have all of me. My heart… my body,” I hissed as her hand dipped inside my pants.

“Uh huh.” Her voice was a purr. “You know exactly what I want.”

*Ryan with his colleague, James, in London office, chapter 2 (provides intro to story)

“Take a seat,” I said to James, “but I’m not in the mood for problems today. And grab a coaster for that coffee before it melts a ring on the wood.”

James—arms too long for his thin frame and hands the size of dinner plates—might’ve seemed like a total goofball, except for his superpower with numbers. He reminded me of an adolescent still growing into his limbs after a growth spurt, except he was thirty-six and hadn’t changed in the three years I’d worked with him. Sure, he knocked over coffee cups with the regularity of a one-man wrecking crew, but he kept spirits up, and some days, his humor was the only thing that saved me from short-circuiting when things went sideways.

“Oh, that’s right! Sofia’s arriving today. Bloody hell, you must be going batty. What’s it been? Two weeks?”

“A very long two weeks, and after the time we spent together, withdrawal has been hell.” She was my addiction. I needed to kiss her, to feel her body pressed against mine. Heat rolled up my chest, familiar impulses rising, and I had to scan my calendar on the screen to distract myself. “You, my friend, could have warned me that being hung up on a woman was torture.”

“Ah, that totally fades when you’ve been with a bird for five years and have two kids killing the mood. I envy you. It’s all shagging like bunnies in the first year. Take advantage, because after the babies, you’ll be lucky if it happens once a fortnight.” James leaned back in his chair and plopped his feet on my desk. I stared at his shoes. “Oh, sorry.” His feet hit the floor with a thud.

“There won’t be any babies. I thought I told you the last time I was in London. She can’t have kids, so it will just be the two of us. It wasn’t a difficult decision. I want to be with her, and these are the terms. But this will be a new experience for me—for us—living together.”

When James started laughing, nearly falling out of his chair, I thought, this was the reason dudes don’t talk to each other about this stuff. We suck at it.

“What’s so funny? Asshole. I don’t see the humor here.” I flicked a pencil at him.

“You’re thirty-five and never cohabitated with a girl?” He made air quotes with his fingers. “You’re in for some surprises. I can’t remember when I’ve had a minute to myself. And just wait until she busts in on you in the loo. Say goodbye to freedom and privacy. This will be the true test—when you really get to know each other.”

“I… um.” No way was I going to confess these things had crossed my mind. Thoughts had been popping up at random, even in Zoom meetings, distracting me. What if I screw things up? When life gets real, will she still be into me? And of course my sadistic brain conjured the worst-case scenario: What if she leaves me? I honestly didn’t know if I could survive that again. I took a gulp of my now cold coffee, pretending I had my shit together. “Don’t put a negative spin on this. Everything is going to be fine, James. It has to be, because she’s the one. Your gut tells you when it’s the real deal, right? I mean, you’re the one who’s married.”

“Yeah, mate. Trust your instincts,” he said, his expression more serious.

Ryan  – Barcelona. They are naked on a deserted beach out of town, middle of the night

Wearing a giddy grin, she launched her body against mine—me catching her, my hands supporting her ass while her legs wrapped around my waist. I spun her in circles, her head tilted to the starry sky. She giggled with pure abandon, and God, I loved the sound of her—happy. We were both dizzy by the time I lowered her to the blanket, the feel of her bare skin against mine driving me crazy. This wasn’t the same person I’d met that night in San Francisco. This Sofia was bold, free, radiating a boundless hunger for life. Hell, she was free-falling off a cliff daily with me—the very thing she’d sworn she’d never do.

Tumbling onto her back, her eyes scanned the sky, tracking the gulls flying overhead, their caws drawing her attention. Her expression shifted, with a distant look in her gaze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m memorizing everything about these moments and filing them under: Highlight reel with Ryan.”

“Oh, you have a file on me?”

She propped up on one elbow. “An extensive file, but I highlight the best stuff. We make memories every day, and I don’t want to take them for granted or forget the details. Like tonight, how it feels to be naked with you, uninhibited, the scent of the sea in the air, and the mist on my skin.” Her fingers stroked my cheek, and I stared at her in amazement.

For the millionth time, this woman blew me away. I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and the thought made me pull her close, cementing these memories in my own vault. She didn’t have to spell it out, because we’d both known loss and life didn’t come with a happiness guarantee, but she was teaching me how to appreciate every moment together. In a world filled with uncertainties, that’s all any of us really had.

 

THE MALDIVES!
Ryan’s shadow arrived in front of me before he did. I closed my laptop and tipped my chin, my eyes drinking in the sight of him. His skin had already become deep bronze from the sun, his hair a mass of tousled waves, glistening from a swim in the ocean.

“I thought we had agreed to go off the grid—cell and computer off.” He leaned over me, his broad chest rising with heavy breaths, as if he’d sprinted back from the beach.

“I know, but I had to touch base with Madison.”

His brow furrowed. “Is she okay? No problem with Kevin, I hope. That dude was crazy.”

“She’s good, and yes, I’m happy Kevin is out of her life. It looks like she and Roger are doing just fine. More than fine, I think.” I reached out to touch him, the tips of my fingers stroking lines on his chest and the cut of his abdomen where droplets of water carved paths across his muscles. It was almost obscene—his body was so gorgeous, and entirely my playground.

“Good to know. Let’s hang out with them again when we get back.” He dipped his head and shook the water off his hair like a dog, spraying droplets across my belly.

“Hey!” I cried, but he showed no remorse. Laughing, he made a dive for the cushions of the sunbed, landing with his leg slung over mine, his cheeks dimpled with the widest grin. It had only taken a few days in paradise for him to put work out of his mind. My playful Ryan had returned; his happiness an infectious force making me giddy.

“I think I may have just found a new girlfriend.”

I lowered my sunglasses and narrowed my eyes.

“Well, I think it was a girl. I’m not sure how you determine the gender of a sea turtle, but she was following me in the water.”

“Could have been a gay sea turtle, you never know.”

“Or gender fluid. Either way, babe, it was incredible to be that close to such an amazing creature.”

I leaned over and picked up two slices of pineapple from the breakfast plate delivered by the staff, placed one between his front teeth, then popped the other in my mouth, the sweet juice bursting against my tongue.

“I can’t wait to swim with them. The concierge said they can arrange to take us out where there are loads of turtles.”

I shifted on the sunbed so I could wrap my arms around his neck. The feel of his naked skin on mine had become something I craved, as if my body needed him as much as food or water. All of my senses were magnified a hundred times stronger thanks to this lush setting—the humid, warm breeze caressing my bare skin—the warm salt water that had flowed around my body like liquid silk. The air was tinged with sweet frangipani, the perfume a heady aphrodisiac that seemed to pulse through my veins. The sensual experience and all the nakedness made me constantly ache for him. And he hadn’t complained. The feeling appeared to be wonderfully mutual.

 

Last Featured Quote:
We were becoming something more, the bond deepening between us, tucked away in our own private world—exactly as I’d promised him. “You look happy.” I traced the line where worry had once etched itself on his face just a few days ago.

“I’m in paradise with my girl. I don’t think I could possibly be any happier.” He pressed his body tight against mine. “Plus, I have unrestricted access to this…” His hand reached for my breast, cupping it possessively. “And this…” My skin tingled as he ran a finger down my belly, then between my legs, and then he was inside me.

My back arched in one swift motion, reflexively rising at his touch. My eyes fell shut as I felt his tongue sweep across my breast, my breath becoming shallow, until all I heard was the wind rustling through palm leaves above and the faint cawing of an unfamiliar bird. Then, the raw, primal sounds he made melded with nature’s symphony, just as he melded into me.

At this moment, the world was perfect. We moved together in harmony with the familiarity that comes from knowing your partner so well, you read each other’s signals intuitively. Naked, breeze on our skin… it was as if we were part of something bigger than just the two of us—surrounded by nature’s grand plan embodied in the constant ebb and flow of the tides, in the rhythm of the life force teeming all around us. My soul vibrated with the need to absorb him through my skin, to melt into him until we were one being. My arms wrapped around his back, clinging to him, tethering myself to his heart.

The look on his face told me he felt it too, his eyes penetrating mine with pure awe. He paused, poised above me, the strength of his arms supporting his weight while he gazed at me, and his voice emerged, laced with emotion.

“I love you.” He shook his head, and this time, he repeated the words slowly, his eyes widening as if those words held an even deeper meaning now. “I… love… you.”

I reached up and stroked his cheek with my fingertip, whispering, “I know.” I did know. Never in my life had I felt someone’s love with such certainty, the power of that knowledge splitting me wide open—leaving me vulnerable and exposed, yet completely safe with him. We were in this together, each risking in equal measure.

Amidst a sudden frenzy of desperate kisses, I held the sides of his face, my eyes boring into his, my heart nearly bursting.

“And I love you.” I rocked my hips upward, and he pressed deeper into me, barely breathing.

We stilled, a moment of calm before a storm enveloped us, our bodies crashing and tumbling with fierce intensity, driven by a force we were powerless to control.