“That must involve a lot of research.” He looks around the room, apparently cataloging details. “It’s a nice place they’ve got, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s lovely. But they must have crossed their wires about loaning it out.”
“I guess so.”
Neither of us speaks for a few moments.
“You’re welcome to stay,” I say to break the silence. “I feel bad for ruining the quiet time you planned, though.”
“Don’t feel bad; you were here first.”
“Are we in kindergarten?”
He chuckles. “Some days, I feel like it.”
I study him more closely. He doesn’t look great. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Never better.” His tone is brusque. “But I’d hate to intrude on your writing retreat, so I’ll grab my bag and find somewhere else to go. I’m sure there are other places to stay around here.”
“Don’t be silly,” I reply before thinking it through. “There’s no reason we can’t both stay. Especially when you flew all the way here. There are two bedrooms, and I’m so quiet you’ll hardly know I’m around.”
He hesitates. I can tell he’s unsure, and for a moment I hope he’ll decide to leave. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking when I opened my big mouth. I don’t want to be stuck living with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—especially not when he’s off limits. But I can manage, right? Perhaps it will motivate me to write faster. Besides, he clearly needs rest and relaxation. He’s wound tighter than I’ve ever seen him, and he’s spent the day traveling, which won’t have helped.
“Okay,” he relents. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Kind of.
His lips lift at the edges. “Then I’ll stay. I’ll be in my room for most of the night, though. I’m exhausted.”
“Fair enough. Let me show you to the main bedroom. I’m using the spare one, but Sydney said it was fine to use either.”
“Thanks.” He follows behind as I give him a quick tour of the house, and then he stays in the large ocean-facing master suite while I return to the deck. The air is starting to cool, so it isn’t long before I head to the kitchen to prepare dinner for two.
Chapter Two
Tony
I don’t know what I did to deserve such a karmic kick in the balls. Everything had been looking up. When I’d gotten on a plane to fly to Massachusetts, I’d been excited, but with one surprise, my excitement has been wiped out. Of all the people to be here, why does it have to be her? Lucia Caruso is the one woman I want most, and the one I can’t have.
When I met her at the hospital after Tempe—her sister-in-law and my training buddy—gave birth, I was captivated by her beautiful smile, inky black hair, and compact curves. But then I’d caught sight of her unique eyes—the palest shade of blue and a perfect match for her brother’s—and realized who she was. I’d known instantly I couldn’t go there. According to Tempe, Lucia wants two point five kids and a white picket fence, whereas I never intend to have a long-term relationship. I’ve seen the devastation they cause.
I flop onto the bed and wince as pain jolts through me.
This goddamn injury.
I’ve hardly been able to sleep because I can’t put my weight on my shoulder, and when I lie on the opposite side, it hurts like a bitch because of the way my arm hangs across my body. Carefully, I ease it through some basic movements and gentle stretches the physiotherapist recommended. My eyes tear up as the pain worsens, and I wonder whether to continue or stop. It’s hard to know how much movement it needs versus what’s going to aggravate it. In the end, I stop and close my eyes, reveling in the silence. Even though Lucia is nearby, I can’t hear her at all. The only noise is that of the ocean. Perhaps I haven’t got the solitude I wanted, but at least it’s peaceful.
I draw in a deep breath and release it, picturing my problems floating away on the exhalation. It’s a meditation technique Bianca taught me. Sometimes it works, but right now it’s too hard to focus.
I hold the image as my chest rises and falls. Rises and falls.
A knock on the door summons me to the present. I’d hoped Lucia might leave me alone to get my thoughts in order, but it would seem not.
I answer the door. “Hey.”
Her gaze catches on my chest, then slowly rises to my face, her cheeks turning pink. God, I wish I could step closer, pull her against my body, and investigate the attraction I see written all over her, but I don’t. I’m not the guy who leads women on. I’m better than that.
“I’ve made chicken for dinner, if you’d like some,” she says, her tone friendly but cautious.
