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what?”
    “How did it happen? How did you go from where you were Friday to where it seems you are now? Which I am not entirely clear on. Other than you are jetting off to France with Brandon.”
    At least she dropped the F'n after his name. Baby steps. It was progress. Perhaps she had been preparing for this moment. Chelsea can know me better than I know myself sometimes.
    “To be honest, I think I had been leaning this way all along. I didn't know it, but it became clearer to me. Brandon and I have had some wonderful heart to heart conversations.”
    “Do you trust him?”
    “Conditionally, for now. I've laid out terms to our giving this another try.”
    I explained the terms to Chelsea. I told her all about my conversations with Brandon.
    Chelsea's mood softened somewhat.
    “I can't say that this surprises me all that much,” she stated. “I am glad that you told him that I would be watching him like a hawk. And I will be. Believe me, Ash, when I tell you that he better not even come close to breaking your heart again.”
    “I know you will. And I know you have your concerns about this, Chels. But I really need you to support my decision.”
    I sat down on my bed next to her. “I do love him. I know that to be true. I'm willing to take this chance because my life is better with him in it. That is something that I have learned through all of this.”
    Chelsea hugged me. “I luv ya, Ash. You know I will support you. I want you to be happy. I've also got your back. Always.”
    “I know. I luv ya too. I'm happy with where I think things are headed. I couldn't have said that last week.”
    “Okay, so tell me about France. What are we going to need to pack for you?”
    “French Riviera and then a few days in Paris.”
    “Love it! I have a few ideas.”
    “I thought you might.” I smiled at where I was at in my life. I felt that this vacation to France would tell me a lot about what to expect going forward. But I was glad to be traveling this road now.

Chapter Eleven
     
    The French Riviera was gorgeous. We were still recovering from jet lag, albeit jet lag from traveling on Brandon's private jet, so we were lounging on the deck of Jacqueline III, the Davenport family yacht. Well, one of them. The yacht they kept in Europe. They had others in the Caribbean, California, and the Hamptons.
    It was hard for me to get used to all of the luxury. I know that may sound strange, but I grew up very middle class. We had everything we needed and enough of what we wanted. But we only saw toys like the Davenport yachts in the distance when we would go to the beach on South Padre Island. Yet, here I was sunning myself on the deck of Jacqueline III in the French Riviera. Pinch me.
    The only view better than the Mediterranean Sea and French coast was Brandon in his Speedo. All the horrifying images of middle-aged, overweight, men sporting one were easily erased when Brandon appeared on deck. Yes, some men were made to wear a Speedo. Other men, definitely not. Brandon, without a doubt, was in the made to wear one category.
    In fact, if there hadn't already been the Speedo, they would invent it just so Brandon could wear it. He looked that good in it. His deliciously toned, hard ass in back and marvelous bulge in front. Need I say more?
    “What a beautiful day,” he said as he peeled his t-shirt off. Oh my! No matter how many times I saw him shirtless, it still made me breathless. I don't think I would ever tire of how amazing he looked. The physique of a Greek god.
    “Warmer than usual this time of year,” he added as he slid a deck chair over near me. He kissed me on the cheek and plopped into his chair.
    “It is so peaceful. I could just stay here forever,” I said.
    “A nice start to our little get away.” Brandon took my hand in his.
    “Most definitely.”
    “Is that the same bikini from that picture on your Facebook page?” he asked looking me up and down.
    “Yes,” I said with a smile. “I remembered how you