Her eyes lit up, and another rush of color invaded her cheeks.
I turned back to the cannelloni on the counter, not sure if those sudden erratic butterflies in my stomach were of excitement at the notion of getting to carry her, or even just hold her, or if they were insects of nervousness and uncertainty.
Either way, they flew like bugs drunk on good San Camanez Island merlot inside my stomach, and I did my very best to ignore them as I brought her plate to the table.
She grinned up at me.“Thank you.”
“Prego.”
We exchanged smiles over the table as we ate, until both our plates were clean and we sat back at the exact same time, exhaling in satisfaction.
“Well,SignoreBarone, if all first dates are like this, I’d definitely say yes to another one.”
I smiled at her over the rim of my wineglass.“Grazie, bella.I agree.I would love to have another date with you.”
“This one’s not over yet, though, right?”
I stood up to clear our plate.“Of course not.We still have dessert.”
The sexy little groan she made had those butterflies in my belly bobbing their tiny eyebrows at me.“You spoil me.”
“I aim to,bella.You deserve it.”And she really did.She deserved the world, and the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to be the man to give it to her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Danica
WhileI’dneverhada first date before, something told me this was a fantastic one.We never ran out of things to talk about, and until tonight, I hadn’t really realized how funny Tom was.Sure, I knew he had a sense of humor, but the extent of it eluded me until now.He really was in his comfort zone and welcoming me in, and damn if it wasn’t a cozy place to be.
As a shy, anxious introvert myself, I knew how hard it was to forge connections with people.So I didn’t take his openness to build one with me for granted.
After another helping of cannelloni, the best tiramisu I’d ever tasted, and just a splash more of wine, we found ourselves on his couch in front of the fireplace with Portia snoring in her princess bed with her legs in the air.
Initially, when we first sat down, we were on opposite ends of the couch, but somehow, over time—I wasn’t even sure how it happened—we migrated to the middle.Before I knew it, I was leaning against him, my head in his lap, and he was playing with my hair with one hand while our fingers twisted and twirled together mindlessly with his other.
“It’s weird, right?”I asked, near comatose I was so relaxed as he ran his fingers through my hair.
“What is?That child next-door?Si.”
I snorted.“Well, yes.He is.But that’s not where I was going.I was going to say, it’s weird that we’ve only known each other for a week, and yet it doesn’t feel that way at all.”
“It does not.”
“I’ve been here every day this week, gotten to know you and the animals.My kid adores you and has come out of her shell around you, which hardly ever happens with anybody.”I glanced up at him.“As sad as it was with Angel passing, it—”
He nodded.“I know what you mean.Sometimes things happen for a greater reason than we know.From the ashes grows the flower.”
“How old are you?”
His smirk was so utterly kissable.We hadn’t even kissed yet, but oh boy, did I want to.“I am forty-eight.How old are you?”
“Uh … I’m thirty-two.”
“You had your daughter young.”
“Yeah, they tend to do it that way when you don’t really have a say,” I murmured, glancing toward the flickering flames of the fire.“Not that I’d trade her for the world.But … well,howshe came to be is something I’d rather forget.”
His finger came under my chin, and he turned me to face him.“I am sorry for that part of your story.Nobody should have to go through what you and your cousins did.My heart hurts for all of you and how much pain you must still feel.”
