He leans forward slightly. “Finish eating, Little Bird.”
My stomach flips at the nickname, but I shrug it off and still, for some reason, try to pretend I’m not affected by it.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not your Little Bird anymore.”
He watches me for a beat too long. “That’s where you’re wrong. You always were. And nothing will change that.”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t know what to do with that. The kitchen goes quiet again, but it isn’t hostile for the first time since I’ve moved into this house, it’s . . . something else.
When I finish eating, Lorenzo stands, walks to the pantry, and returns with a thick coat, handing it to me with a smile.
It’s heavy black wool, warm.
I look down at it, then up at him. “You planned this?”
His eyes gleam. “I plan everything.”
My heart rate picks up again. Damn my treacherous body. And if it weren’t bad enough that I’m losing a war within myselfto not be affected by this man, he grabs the gloves off the counter and pulls them on with slow precision.
The sight is obscene.
A man shouldn’t look so hot putting on damn gloves.
I have it bad for my husband.
This isn’t good.
Together, we move through the hallway until we are at the door to leave the house.
Lorenzo pauses, his gaze flickering to the nearest guard. The guard straightens.
“Stay where you are,” Lorenzo orders, voice low, controlled.
He opens the door then, and together we step outside. No security, just us.
Cold air slams into my face, crisp and sharp.
Lorenzo walks beside me, hands in his pockets, coat collar turned up. His expression is unreadable, eyes scanning the property like he’s watching for threats I can’t see.
We walk down a path lined with snow-covered hedges. My breath clouds in front of me.
We go farther than I expected.
The house falls behind us, shrinking through the trees. The path curves toward the back edge of the property, where the land slopes gently downward.
I can hear something.
Not the guards. Not Lorenzo. Something rhythmic. A hush, then a low crash.
My steps slow, and then my breath catches. Because as soon as the trees thin, I see it . . .
Water.
A wide, sprawling view of the ocean.
I stop walking, and my heart thuds in my chest because across the water is a familiar shape on the opposite shoreline.
