My fantasy is ending, and I want to soak up every last second.
Sigh.
He shakes out his shoulders and stretches his arms above his head, and I close my eyes to stop them from rolling as every muscle of his torso moves like a male model warming up before settling into just the right pose.
Come on.
The guy isn’t hot enough in clothes, so I’ve got to watch him shirtless? What next? Is he going to drop and do some crunches?
“You want to shower first?” he asks, breaking in to my thoughts.
I tuck the blankets up to my chin and shake my head. “No, you go ahead. I’ll catch a few more minutes of rest.”
If lying here and hoping my flaming arousal cools off a little counts as rest, then yes, I will be resting. I’ll be resting for at least as long as it takes him to shower.
He nods and rakes a hand through his hair, leaving it stuck up in the wildest directions, and somehow that’s both sexy and cute at the same time.
I consider biting down on the blanket to save my lip from some of the pain, but he closes the bedroom door behind him and I’m alone.
I hear the shower water turn on, and I take one deep breath and savor it. I’m in his bed. My skin still remembers the heat of his hands. This was as close to Franco as I could ever hope to be, and in a few minutes, it will all be over.
I’ll be back to my real life, whatever that turns out to be. I’d been so hopeful and open to whatever Star Falls had to offer when I decided to come up here and check out my aunt’s café.
But after a night in his arms, the idea of making a life for myself, from scratch, all on my own, no longer feels like such an exciting adventure.
Excitement is what I feel with him, around him. Too bad the only adventure is finding out how many ways a gorgeous, unattainable man can break my heart.
* * *
Within the hour,even though I showered last night, I’ve showered again and joined Franco down in the kitchen. He hands me a mug of hot coffee, and I don’t know, but I feel like he’s looking at me differently today.
He’s got a list written in front of him, and he looks almost excited to share it with me. I notice he’s set a spoon and a sugar bowl on the kitchen table.
“I figured I’d let you put in the sugar for yourself,” he says, and then he sits down beside me and starts talking.
I’m looking between him and the spoon and wondering how the heck the man knows I take only sugar in my coffee. But then I realize I had coffee at his parents’. Did he actually pay attention to how I preferred it?
I stir in the sugar and only catch up to Franco’s voice when he stretches a hand across the table and rests it on my arm.
“You okay?” He’s studying my face. “Did I upset you? Too much?”
Wait, what?
“I was a little lost in my thoughts,” I admit. “Sorry. Start over?”
He looks concerned but not angry, which is an upgrade from last week, at least. He points to the handwritten list he’s put on the table. “So, I called out of work today. I don’t know how you’re feeling about going back to the store, but I’ve made a list of things you probably need to do. We can do them together, or…” He pauses. “Were you feeling up to opening the store today? I sort of assumed you’d want to close the store and…”
“You called out of work?” The sweet coffee is strong, and the way it hits my tongue makes me smile. Or at least, I tell myself it’s the coffee.
Franco nods. “I’m fired up as hell. You need a cell phone, and you probably need to check in with your mother,” he says. “If something like that happened and I didn’t tell my mom for a couple days, she’d…” One side of his mouth curls up. “Well, you know my mother. You know how that would go over.”
I nod, but the topic of my mother makes me go silent.
“Hey,” he says, a question in his voice. “I’m sorry. Did I touch on something there?”
I shrug, though I don’t look up at him. But then I do. Darn it. I’m tired of hiding. Of apologizing for who I am and what my family is—or, more accurately, is not.
“My mother isn’t someone I can run to when things happen,” I explain. “I wish she were. My whole life, I’ve held my troubles close to my chest and dealt with them myself. Or maybe not at all. My mom always had enough to deal with just having my dad around. It’s a lot easier not to involve her.” I give him a weak smile. “I’m only sad about it at the moment because I love what you have with your family. It’s the dream, you know?”
