CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Good morning.” Richard was slightly embarrassed by the singsong quality in his voice when he joined his brother for breakfast the following morning. Simon, who had been staring broodingly into his coffee, looked up and smiled when he saw Richard’s grin.

“You’re in a good mood,” he observed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Richard said after sitting down opposite him. “It’s a gorgeous summer morning. The sky’s blue, the birds are out, everything smells fresh and awesome.”

“You didn’t join me for our jog this morning,” Simon said.

“Slept in,” Richard informed before crunching into a slice of whole-wheat toast.

“Good evening last night?” Simon asked.

“The best.”

“When will you see her again?”

“Lunch.” He couldn’t wait. He had enjoyed her company so much the night before that he had disclosed more about himself than he ever had to anybody else. It had been revelatory—he felt like he…