They both answered at once.
I walked away on shaky legs, grabbing three glasses and the carafe of juice from the fridge. I finally caught my breath, tookone more deep breath for good measure, and brought the drinks back to the table. Mattie could hardly wait until the glass was set in front of him before he grabbed it and gulped down half the glass. “Slow down, tiger.”
He giggled, and that sound wrapped around my heart even tighter.
When I handed Enzo his glass, his fingers brushed mine. No, they didn’t just brush. Theylingered. It was brief as hell, but my pulse spiked anyway.
His gaze met mine, steady and unreadable, and I focused very deliberately onnotreacting. I paid attention to the sound of my inhales and exhales, focused on the rise and fall of my chest, the expansion of my nostrils—on any and everything that wasn’t Enzo.
It’s not him,I convinced myself.It’s the familiarity.
My breath shook, and then I gave myself an internal lecture. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to take this fucking job. Sure, years had passed, but it turns out there weren’t enough fucking years in existence to scrub away the effect Enzo DeRossi had on me. Add in the day-in-and-day-out proximity of seeing him, and it was just a short little hop to blurred lines and an even shorter one right back to heartbreak.
I’d had my fill of that.
Once was enough.
I sat back down only when my body stopped buzzing, and even then, I focused on those apple wedges like they held the secrets to the universe.
Mattie sat tall in his chair, taking the task incredibly seriously. He bit into one wedge at a time, rating them with exaggerated expressions. “That one’s too sour,” he said of the Granny Smith.
Enzo agreed.
“I like them, and they go really well in pies.”
That perked Mattie right up. “Can we make a pie with them, Ren?”
“Maybe,” I answered before tapping my finger in front of the next plate.
“Super crunchy,” he said of the perfect red Braeburn. His eyes widened at the Ambrosia. “Tastes like candy.” And the Gala made him laugh. “It tastes like the color yellow.”
Enzo laughed. The sound was deep and completely unguarded. I really hated that the sound still did things to my body that nobody had been able to do with a touch. “I have my favorite,” he grinned at Mattie. “What’s yours?”
Mattie chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “This one,” he said, picking up another Gala wedge and popping it into his mouth. “I still don’t like apples, but I likethisapple.”
That was something close to progress, I supposed.
The day passed easily after that. Lessons finished early. We spent time outside; the afternoon was warm and deceptively peaceful. Security remained invisible but always, constantly present—a quiet reminder that this calm had limits.
By evening, Mattie was yawning through dinner, and when bedtime rolled around, I leaned against his headboard with my legs crossed at the ankles and read his favorite bedtime story while he curled against me with Leo tucked under his arm.Safe and sound.Before the second chapter began, he was fast asleep, his breaths deep and even, a small smile curving his lips.
I let my gaze linger on the rise and fall of his chest, the comfort and peace he exhibited even in sleep.There it goes again,I said to myself as that protective instinct flared up, sharp and slightly less surprising than the last time.
As I left Mattie’s room, my gaze landed on Enzo’s. He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression softer than I’d seen on him except where Mattie was concerned. He said nothing, and neither did I.
What was there to say?
Instead, I retreated to my room, closed the door, and leaned my forehead against it for a long moment.Boundaries,I reminded myself.You are allowed to have boundaries, Serenity.I needed to turn that reminder into a mantra and repeat it every time thoughts of Enzo andmorerose up in my mind. Or worse, my heart.
That’s what I told myself, but later, when I found myself in bed and unable to sleep, where did my thoughts go? Enzo, that’s where. In the quiet of the house with nature buzzing outside my window, I stared at the ceiling as my thoughts continued to betray me.
Enzo’s laugh. The warmth of his shoulder when he sat too close. The way my body lit up when his fingers brushed mine.
I rolled onto my side, irritation simmering beneath the awareness.
Stop it.
My body, however, had other ideas. Memory and muscle conspired in ways that felt unjust. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through it, tried to redirect my thoughts to something else. Toanythingelse.
