It’s only the four of us at the table because the kids are asleep, Frank ate earlier, and Nario and Ciro chose to eat in their respective rooms. I’m glad. I like the intimacy of these small dinners.
“Want to take a walk?” I mouth to Serena as Sierra and Ben show no sign of slowing down on the PDA front.
She nods, and her chair screeches when she stands.
Sierra tears herself away from her husband’s lips. “Don’t go on our account.”
“It’s fine.” Serena reaches across to take my plate. “We are going out for a walk.”
I shake my head. I don’t expect or want her to clean up after me. I’m capable of cleaning up after myself.
Serena frowns, scooping up Ben’s and Sierra’s plates and taking them to the sink. I come up alongside her, careful to keep a distance between our bodies in case I freak her out.
“I would have done that,” she murmurs while rinsing the three plates.
“I know, but I don’t expect you to pick up after me. I’m used to cleaning up after myself.”
Our hands brush as she retracts from the sink, and I move forward to wash my plate. Tingles spread up my arm from that subtle touch, like it does every time our skin comes into contact. I’ve been with my fair share of women, but no one, and I meanno one, has ever made my body come to life the way Serena does, and we have barely touched.
It’s as confusing as it is exciting and scary.
I’m stumbling blindfolded around Serena, terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing, because I don’t want to upset her or hurt her. But I don’t want to treat her with kid gloves either. She’s a fucking warrior, and she deserves to be respected as one. I wish I could talk to Ben about this, but I have a feeling he would tell me to stay away from his sister-in-law, and I don’t want Serena to become an obstacle between us.
In a surprising move, Serena leans in and kisses my cheek. “You are the most amazing man, Alessandro. Someday, you are going to make some lucky woman very happy.” She jerks back, as if she’s just realized what she did and what she said.
Acting on instinct, I lean a little closer to her face and lower my voice. “Play your cards right and that lucky woman could be you.” I waggle my brows, lightening the moment, even though I wholeheartedly mean every word I just said.
Her cheeks are on fire, and all it does is endear her even more to me. I want to relax her because I feel the strongest, most protective urges whenever I’m around her, so I cease flirting. “All I did was take my plate to the sink and rinse it. I’m not sure it’s worthy of such accolades, but I’m too needy to shun praise, deserved or not.”
“You deserve it,” she quietly says, ripping the plate from my hand and placing it in the dishwasher before I can stop her.
* * *
“Do you want to tell me what happened in town earlier?” I ask as we walk the lit path through the forest at the back of Ben’s estate. Armed guards roam the perimeter twenty-four-seven, and the high walls are topped with barbed wire and a succession of cameras. I would have said this place is impenetrable except security was breached a few months ago and Sierra was kidnapped from inside the house. Since then, Ben has gone into overdrive with protective measures, replacing all the guards and cameras and adding extra precautions and extra bodies to the protection detail.
“What do you mean?” An anxious tick pops in her jaw.
“Don’t lie to me, Serena. I know something freaked you out.”
A heavy sigh filters into the air, accompanied by little cloudy breaths. “Nothing gets past you.”
“Keen observational skills were a necessary survival tool in the house I grew up in and later when I lived on the streets. I think you’ll find it’s not so easy to deceive me.”
She slams to a halt, turning to face me. “I would never deliberately deceive you. That’s not who I am.” Fire underscores her tone, and I like hearing it.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I know who you are.”
The saddest expression washes over her features. “If that was true, you wouldn’t be standing here with me now. You wouldn’t be spending time with me each day. You would run a mile if you realized exactly who I am.”
I risk stepping a little closer. “I have known you long enough to know the kind of woman you are, Serena. I’d like to think you’ve known me long enough to know you could tell me anything, and it wouldn’t scare me away.” Reaching out slowly, I take her gloved hands in my bare ones. “I spend time with you because I enjoy it. I want to get to know you better. I want to support you as you deal with the things you need to deal with.”
“Why me? I’m too old. Too broken. I have kids. I come with so much baggage I’m completely weighted down with it. I—”
I can’t listen to her beat herself up any longer, so I place two fingers over her mouth, quietly shushing her as I prepare to negate each of her concerns. “One. You’re not too old, and I’m not too young. Age is just a number, and I refuse to allow stupid societal norms to dictate who I spend my time with or categorize the nature of that relationship. Two. Broken is subjective, and we all have our broken parts, but guess what?” I move my fingers from her lips to her cheeks, silently rejoicing when she doesn’t flinch or shy away. “Broken parts can be glued back together. Three, I adore your kids, and they are the cherry on top. And four, every single person in the world has some kind of baggage. It’s called life.”
Tears glisten in her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. “You’re not real,” she whispers. “You can’t be.”
My heart aches for her because I see the mistrust and disbelief in her eyes. “I’m real, Rena.” Taking her hand, I slip it under my coat and over my shirt-covered chest, where my heart is currently jumping cartwheels in honor of her presence. “I’m as real as it gets. I’m guarded until I get to know someone, and I don’t readily volunteer information about my life, but I will always, always, tell you the truth. I don’t play games, and you can trust me to be honest with you.” I want to tell her I have strong feelings for her. That I see us moving beyond friendship someday. But I don’t want to scare her or force her into acknowledging something before she’s ready to confront it. It feels hypocritical not to admit my feelings when I’ve just told her I’ll be honest, but I’m walking a tightrope here. One misstep and I could plunge to my death. “Like, right now, I really want to hold you.” I peer earnestly into her eyes. “Would that be okay?”
