He captures my fingers against his cheek. “What do you see when I look at you?” His voice holds a note of wariness.
My lips part, but the words won’t release because some part of me is afraid if I say them I may just ruin what we have. Instead of forcing the issue, Troy turns his head and presses a kiss to the center of my palm. “Actually, if you don’t mind my interrupting your facial analysis?—“
Feeling a reprieve, I press a quick kiss to his chin. “Go ahead.”
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It’s not,” he reassures me. Then he laughs. “Okay, maybe it is? I guess it depends on your point of view.”
“Right now, it’s being driven by the fear on your face.”
“Yeah. Okay. So, next week, I’m flying to London.”
Disappointment surges through me hearing the news. “Oh. How long will you be gone?”
“Worried about how long you might have to survive on your own cooking?” He quirks a brow.
“No. I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” I frown. “But thanks. Now I’m going to.”
He sets his glass down. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t think about it. Come with me.”
I blink at him a few times to make certain the wine hasn’t impaired my hearing. “Are you serious?”
He rushes out with, “I’m just going for a few days. The Lightning are playing the Colonials there—part of the international game series. Despite my no longer being a member of the team, I’m still friendly with the coaching staff.”
“Ahh, that makes sense.”
“I’ve got tickets.”
“Of course you do. Let me guess. Private box?”
“Club level. Fifty yard line,” he corrects me.
“How would you get there?” I ask casually.
“I was thinking we’d fly commercial. It’s really not worth it to charter a private jet for this short of a…” His words stutter to a halt as he realizes what he disclosed.
“Let me get this straight.” I confirm, certain he’s pranking me. “You want me to go with you to anNFLgamewhere my ex is playing?” I’m internally cringing over the social media blowup if I’m spotted.
But then, I recall I never had anything to be ashamed of. Just as I’m about to ask more, Troy lays out his whole idea for the trip.
“It wouldn’t be just that. We’d go, three days. Maybe four? I’d love to take you to a vineyard in Kent I’ve been wanting to visit—different climates change the flavor of the wine. I’m certain you’d love it.”
I lay a finger on his lips to stop his adorable babbling. “Troy, you want to go to an NFL game—an Oklahoma Lightning game, at that—with me?”
His face transforms from anxious to assured. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”
The same something that fluttered in my chest when he talked about endings twists again. I now realize what it is—fear.Fear of losing this haven Troy and I have here atTenuta delle Ombrethat will be ruined the moment the paparazzi get a good swipe at us.
Taking my silence for a no, he offers me a lopsided smile. “No pressure. I just thought you’d like to experience more than just the vineyard this visit. These international games? There’s no comparison.”
For a moment, I wonder why I was never invited in the past, but then the hard slap of reality hits me. Bryce never wanted me with him; Troy can’t bear to be without me.
