Page 67 of I Almost Do

I peer inside in expectation. I can't wait to see what she uses on herself.

What I see is a phone charging station, a small jewelry box, a jumbo bottle of Advil, and a Kindle.

I squint. Look at her. Look back at the drawer. Look back at her. "Where do you keep them?"

"Them?" she asks with exaggerated innocence.

"Your toys, you tease."

She laughs at me. "I don't have any."

I'm horrified. Legitimately horrified. "Why?" I ask.

"I don't know. I just never bought anything."

"You might like the way a vibrator feels."

"I guess," she says. "Do you have toys?"

And now I see why she felt embarrassed at my question. “I'm an adult man in my prime who is not having intercourse with my wife. So, yes, I have something to make the situation easier.”

She nods at me sagely. "Blow-up doll."

"No, not a blow-up doll. My life isn't a nineties screwball comedy." I reach for my phone, do a quick search, and pull up an image. "This."

"It looks like a flashlight. If I saw that in your drawer, I would legitimately think, 'Wow, James really must be afraid of a power outage,'" she says.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes, but I'm grinning.

"Do you think I should order something?" she asks.

"Oh, yes. When they arrive, you can call me to test them out while we're on the phone."

There's a hot flush of color on her cheekbones when she says. "I will absolutely call you."

“Good girl.”

I run a finger up her arm. "Do you watch porn?" Yeah, we opened this door. And I am walking right through it.

"Mellinger, you are all up in my personal business today," she says. But her voice is breathy, and she's rubbing that thumb over her bottom lip.

"Hmmm," I say, looking deeply into her eyes and speculating whether that nonanswer means she does or doesn't.

"I prefer to listen to romance audiobooks rather than watch porn with real people in it. It's easier for me to imagine myself or you as the characters in the book. And I need it to be loving, not just about sex."

Ah. "What kinds of books do you listen to?" I ask curiously.

She reaches down, pulls out her Kindle, and shows me the library there.

"You just told me you picture me when you listen to these."

"Yes," she says. "Sometimes."

I scroll through. Orcs, minotaurs, aliens.

I click on one with a giant blue alien who has his arms around a woman in a fur bikini. The book is calledBarbarian's Treasureby Ruby Dixon.

I raise an eyebrow and turn the book to face her. "This? You picture me in this?"

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