And yet, here I am, forcing my way back into her life—unintentional as this meeting might be.
But if giving me a false name is how she can allow me this moment, then I’ll take it.
Anything for the chance to speak to her again, to look into those eyes.
Still, the questions just won’t stop coming now.
They flood my head like water breaking through a dam, drowning out all the other thoughts that might help me make sense of this bizarre situation.
And again, I realize I’m taking too long to answer her as I stare down at her offered palm like a complete imbecile.
“Gio,” I say quickly, grasping her hand before she can take it away.
The jolt of electricity that passes between our palms crackles all the way up my arm and into my chest, making my fingers tingle as my body goes numb.
Stephanie—Jane—gasps, snatching her hand back quickly, and I can’t help but wonder if she felt it too.
Or maybe I just crushed her fingers because I couldn’t tell how firmly I was gripping them.
“Yes, Jackson’s mentioned you,” she says, her eyes softening again the second she says her son’s name. “It seems you made a lasting impression on him the other day.”
“He made an impression on me too,” I say, shoving my hands into my pants pockets to mask the way my palm continues to tingle with the lingering ghost of her touch.
Christ, I want to close the distance between us, to comb my fingers into her short, playful hair and steal a kiss like I had so effortlessly in the past.
But that’s not going to do me any favors if I want to win her back—especially if her husband could show up at any minute.
Wait, win her back? Who said anything about that?
As desperate as I am to be near her, to soak up the rays of warmth that radiate from her like the sun, I don’t want to destroy the life she’s made for herself and her little boy.
And barging back into her life, claiming her as my own when that’s clearly not what she wants… not even I am quite that selfish. At least, that’s what I want to believe.
Still, it’s pure agony to know what I have to do.
I can feel the smile slipping from my lips, and I force it back into position as I do my best to play it cool. “Well, Jane. It was a pleasure to meet you,” I say, taking a step back to excuse myself from the conversation just as she parts her lips to speak again. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Pressing two fingers to my temple, I give her a casual salute and turn, forcing my feet to take one step and then another toward the street.
It feels as though I’ve reached into my chest, ripped my heart from my ribcage, and staked it on her white picket fence.
Walking away is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
And only the flicker of disappointment that crossed her face as I turned can soothe the bone-deep pain in my soul.
7
JANE
“You shouldn’t be here.” The whispered warning sends a chill racing down my spine, and my breath catches as goosebumps erupt across the back of my neck where soft lips brush my skin.
Strong hands grip my hips from behind, pulling me back against a solid wall of warm muscle.
That same giddy anticipation I’m familiar with ripples through my body, and a pulse throbs between my legs as my panties dampen.
“That’s what you say every time,” I murmur, and I don’t know why. I don’t recognize this place. I can’t recall whether I’ve been here before. Then again, the nondescript tree line that sprawls before me doesn’t lend itself to being identified. Still, I can’t help this deep-seated feeling that I’m right where I belong.
“WhatamI going to do with you,vita mia?” the man teases in his low, rumbling baritone that vibrates through my very bones.
