“I hope Lev doesn’t give her a hard time about leaving us alone,” Matteo comments, walking around the first living room space. His eyes are trailing the floors and walls, looking for structural imperfections, I assume. “I’m sure it’ll be reported back to him and your father. I do agree, though. It feels more…homey in here. So far, at least.”
“Uncle Lev will be grumpy about us spending time together at all, but he won’t be upset with her. He’s tried many times in the past to be angry at his wife and he’s always failed.”
“That’s good,” he replies, looking a bit relieved. “I would hate to cause issues between them. Your aunt is a good friend to you. She shouldn’t suffer because of me.”
“She likes you,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say. “Despite how nice she is in comparison to Lev, she wouldn’t leave us alone together if she didn’t think you were a good man.”
His lips lift slowly, and his eyes twinkle kindly. My hands start to feel clammy and I wipe them discreetly down my pants, wondering if it’s hot in this house or if I’m just a little overwhelmed.
Our tour continues, and so does our conversation. It’s casual, like it might be if we were talking on the phone. But unlike talking on the phone, I catch myself staring at him more than once. More specifically staring at his face…and his lips.
I wonder if—No.
“Next house?” I ask, ignoring my troubling thoughts.
He grins. “If you’re up for it.”
“I think I could do this all day, actually.”
His smile falters, not in sadness but in surprise.
“I’ll take you for as long as I can have you.”
My face goes warm.
“Your company, I mean.”
“I’ll take your company for as long as I can have it too.”
Reaching out, I slowly offer my hand…and he takes it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Matteo
The weekend doesn’t last long enough at all. Anya tours five houses with me, and we spend a total of six hours together, but it’s gone by so fast that it’s kind of devastating. And even though we found the perfect home for my family to use in the future, nothing about this trip feels complete.
We should have angled for more time together. I should have pleaded to share dinner again, or something—anything—to be with her longer. At least my ride back to the airfield ends up being in better company than the ride that picked me up.
But even that goes by too quickly.
Anya and I stand on the tarmac, facing one another as the low rumble of the plane’s engine sounds behind us. Her aunt is in the car, waiting for us to say our goodbyes, but no words are leaving our mouths. My bag is at my feet rather than in my hands, as if that’s going to keep me here longer.
“I don’t…why don’t I want you to leave?” Anya asks, voice shaken and almost distraught. Her eyes are suddenly sparkling with extra moisture, and my throat goes tight as I notice. “I wasso scared to see you again and now I’m scared you’ll never come back.”
“Hey, hey,” I soothe, wanting to reach for her and pull her closer. “Of course I’m coming back. You can’t get rid of me now, Anya. Why wouldn’t I want to see you again, hmm? Tell me all the reasons you’re making up in that head of yours and I’ll tell you why they’re bullshit, yeah?”
“What if…” she starts, nearly trembling.
“Go on,” I encourage softly. “Tell me everything.”
“What if this was too hard for you?”
“It wasn’t,” I swear. “Nothing was hard about coming here. I don’t mind flights, and I expected your dad and uncles to be worse to me, to be honest.”
“You weren’t bored? Or disappointed? We didn’t do anything fun?—”
“Every single moment I spent with you was fun. I wasn’t bored for a minute. Nothing about this weekend has been a disappointment.”
