I lean against the kitchen counter and watch Lucia work. After a few minutes, her nose starts to twitch. The tapping of her fingers on the keyboard slows. She glances over and her eyes light up at the sight of coffee.
“That smells amazing!” She types a few more words, then puts her laptop on the coffee table and joins me. I push one of the mugs toward her, and she inhales deeply. “You know the way to a girl’s heart, Tony Romano.”
A zing of gratification shoots through me. I shouldn’t take her comment too seriously. It was a throwaway remark. But damn if I don’t want to know the path to Lucia’s heart. She turns me inside out like no one else I’ve met, and I want more of her.
Placing a hand on her hip, I guide her closer for a kiss. The taste of coffee is fresh on her lips, but there’s an underlying sweetness that’s all her. She sets the coffee aside and steps closer, pulling me down for a proper kiss. The type with tongues and panted breaths and soft moans.
The waffle iron pings.
We break apart, both breathing heavily. She wets her lips, and the glimpse of her pink tongue makes me hard. There’s no hiding her effect on me when I’m wearing such loose pants, but she doesn’t point it out. Instead, she stretches on her toes and drops one last kiss on my cheek, then goes to the waffle iron. I step up behind her, resting my hands on her hips, and nuzzle the back of her neck.
“Stop it.” She laughs. “I’m hungry, and I’ll never get breakfast if you keep that up.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” I murmur, but I ease back and let her plate up the waffles and bacon, drizzling plenty of maple syrup over the one I assume she’s decided is hers.
She passes me the other plate and we make our way to the deck by silent agreement. We eat waffles to the soundtrack of waves.
“It looks like you’re finally making some progress,” I say.
She smiles. “The story is starting to fall into place.”
“That’s great.” Although I have a pinch of dread at the reminder that when she finishes, she’ll have no reason to stay here. Selfishly, I don’t want her to leave. “Maybe we can head into town together later,” I suggest, wanting to make the most of whatever time I have with her.
“That sounds nice.”
“Then it’s a date.” I stiffen at my turn of phrase, but then I realize I really want our outing to be a date. Maybe my thoughts about fate bringing us together weren’t too far off. This feels really good, and I don’t want it to end.
Lucia
A few hours later, I run out of steam for the day and set my writing aside. I’ve been worried Tony might grow impatient, but when I raised it with him, he said he didn’t care how much time I needed to spend writing before I’d be ready to leave.
When I return inside from the deck, he’s sprawled on the living room floor, reading a brochure about the local area.
“Scoping out stuff for us to do?” I ask, hovering over him.
He nods. “I’ve found a couple of things that look good. Are you done for the day?”
“For now, anyway.” I might pick back up later, but writing expends a lot of creative energy, and it’s time to refill the well.
“Great.” He clambers awkwardly to his feet, managing not to put any weight on his shoulder. “I’ll just grab a jacket. You might want to do the same for one of the activities I have in mind.”
“Ooh, intriguing. What is it?”
He winks. “I’ll tell you later. Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
I head to the bedroom and, not knowing what he has planned, choose a lightweight jacket from my suitcase—it’s still summer, after all—then swap my dress for shorts and a top. I check that my purse and phone are in my handbag and take it back to the living room. Tony is waiting on the sofa. He has a jacket tucked under one arm and stands as I approach.
“Would you rather walk or drive?” I ask.
“Walk,” he replies. “It’s a beautiful day for it.”
I tilt my head to smile up at him. “I hoped you’d say that.”
He gestures for me to precede him down the hall. I open the front door, and he locks it behind us. Then, to my surprise, he reaches down and takes my hand in his. I jolt at the unexpected contact, but when he doesn’t release me, I allow myself to enjoy it. His palm is hot against mine and much larger. It’s strong and capable, just like the rest of him.
And yes, it’s sexy too.
As we walk, he tells me about his conversation with his mother. I’m glad he followed through on it. I’d been concerned he might have changed his mind today, but it sounds like he’s feeling more at ease with the situation, even if he isn’t entirely comfortable with it. When he finishes recounting the call, I ask him questions about his mom and sisters. I can’t imagine growing up in such a large household. Even before my parents died, our family was on the quieter side. I always had my nose in a book, and Mercy spent his high school years studying his ass off to get into college. By contrast, the Romano family sounds loud and colorful and hilarious. I love listening to stories about the trouble they got into—especially him and his youngest sister, Bianca. It seems they have a lot in common, including a mistrust of relationships, although I’m hoping Tony’s hesitation in that area will lessen.
