“Yes, boss.”
She pinches my ass. “Very funny.” Her fingers clasp mine as she pulls me through the door. “It’s not fully done yet, but open your eyes and tell me what you think.”
I blink my eyes open, and my mouth trails the ground. Sloane has transformed the playroom into a space-filled world my son is going to love.
Black coverings scattered with stars and hand-drawn planets drape the four walls. Overhead, the ceiling is hidden behind another black layer with string lights stretching across the length, their twinkling brightness illuminating several hanging planets and floating spaceships. A pile of plastic rocks in one corner hosts the flag of the United States. Beside it is a handmade rocket with a triangular tip sporting a NASA sign. The round table in the middle of the room contains maps, plans, and several different rocks and mock planets. Two separate areas, cordoned off on either side of the room, are constructed of movable screens covered in silver foil. Astronaut School hangs over the entrance to the one on the left. Inside is a desk and chair.
“I’ve got books, crayons, and tons of activity sheets to go in there,” she says. “And I’ve got some computer games and educational short movies to project in the Space Control section,” she adds, pointing at the other area that has warning signs pinned up on the outside.
“This is incredible, Sloane. I can’t believe you got all this done today.”
“It was a team effort. I roped John Angelo and Vincenzo into helping. I made most of the stuff while they assembled it and put up the lights.”
I snort-laugh. “What I wouldn’t give to have been a fly on the wall.”
She laughs. “They did lots of bitching and whining, but secretly, I think they loved it.”
“Elio is going to love it.” I hug her to me. “He’ll never let you take it down.”
“That’s A-okay with me.”
“Thank you.” Love pours from my eyes as I stare at her.
“Don’t do that.” She shucks out of my hold, stepping back and circling her arms around her waist. “You’re paying me to do a job, and I want to do it well.”
I don’t know what’s happened to alter her mood, but it’s as if a switch went off in her head. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Cristian. Of course not.” Her voice cracks.
“I wish you’d tell me.”
“I want to,” she whispers.
Closing the space, I stand in front of her without touching her. “I’m right here, and you can tell me anything.” My pinkie locks around hers. “I know something is wrong. Let me help.”
Pain contorts her face, and my concern cranks up a few notches. But I don’t push her. Whatever it is, she’s got to tell me when she’s good and ready. I still think this is connected to that prick of an ex. If he has hurt her, threatened her, I will fucking end him without hesitation.
Tears cloud her eyes before they disappear as if I’ve imagined them. “I’m fine. It’s just grief. It hits at the weirdest moments.”
She’s lying. A heavy sigh spills from my lips. I can’t force her to tell me, but it’s disappointing she doesn’t feel she can confide in me. I remind myself she’s young and her pain is still raw. “Okay.” I press a kiss into her hair, inhaling lavender and vanilla from whatever shampoo she uses. “Let me shower and change, and then we’ll leave.”
* * *
The next few days are some of the best of my life. Our Valentine’s date night was incredible and a lot of fun, and when we returned home, I spent hours making love to Sloane as I promised. I left the office early on Friday so we could travel to Glencoe for the weekend. Between checking in regularly with Elio and my parents, I teach Sloane the basics of shooting at the private range on the Mazzone estate and demonstrate how to clean, handle, and store the small handgun I bought for her.
“You two look all loved up,” Joshua says on Saturday night as we fix drinks for everyone now that Chiara and Niccolo are asleep and in bed. “I’m happy for you.”
I haven’t felt the need to hide from my best friends this weekend. Which is just as well because I can’t keep my hands off Sloane. “I can’t remember ever being this happy in any previous relationship.”
“It’s amazing how when you meet the right person, past loves become completely insignificant and you realize you had it all so wrong,” he says, passing the beers to me while he puts three glasses and a bottle of chilled white wine on a tray.
I know exactly what he means. “Truth.”
“She looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky,” he says as we walk toward the living area where the women and Caleb are gathered.
“It’s scary how quickly she’s become my everything, but it feels right.”
“That’s how you know. I hope it all works out,” he adds as we join the others.
