Page 37 of Tailored for You

I was trying to explain to her that we’d be staying with Enzo for a while. She didn’t take the first four reasons I’d given her: there was something wrong with the toilet, we needed a bigger place to run around, I needed to help Enzo with some work, and it was easier to stay here, and why not?

“Why?” Harper asked, for what felt like the hundredth time, but it was probably her seventh.

“Because that’s the way it is,” I said, trying another version of the same answer. I closed my eyes, hoping this was the last time and that we could move on to something else.

Harper narrowed her eyes at me, then nodded her head.

“Is Enzo your boyfriend?” Harper asked.

I stopped moving; I wasn’t sure I was breathing.

I licked my lips, buying time to answer. One thing I didn’t do was lie to my girl. I gave her age-appropriate answers whenever possible.

“Hey.” Enzo’s gruff voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Got dinner.” He placed six bags of groceries on the kitchen counter next to me.

He turned, gaze flicking from me to Harper, who stared back at him like a deer in headlights.

“Did I interrupt something? Should I leave?” he asked.

Harper opened her mouth.

“No. Stay,” I said hastily, interrupting whatever Harper was going to say. No doubt it was something that would embarrass me, if history was anything to go by. “You mentioned dinner?”

I grabbed the bags, nerves filling me. We were alone in the house, perhaps for the first time since I arrived.

“I got the seven-cheese mac on deck,” he announced as he pulled out multiple different blocks of cheese and lined them on the table in front of Harper, whose jaw dropped. “It’s a delicacy.”

Pulling out the contents of the bags, I realized each item was a favorite of Harper’s or mine.

The only vegetable pouches Harper would eat, movie theater popcorn, coffee pods, and more. I lined each of them up, first because I wasn’t sure where all this food went—the cabinets were all filled with other, nonfood items—but also because I’d never bought this many groceries in my life.

Partially because I didn’t have the room, but also because there was no way I was ever going to eat all of it.

I was still in a daze, staring at the food, when a big, warm hand slid to the nape of my neck, cupping it gently. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact, and I couldn’t help but take a quick, shallow breath.

“You okay?” His voice was low and measured, but laced with concern. “Do you want me to leave so you can talk to Harper in private?”

I couldn’t stop my gaze from flicking up to him. His thumb moved in small, almost hypnotic circles at the base of my skull, massaging away the tension I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. The heat of his skin seared through me, the nearness of him making my mouth go dry. I felt my chest tighten as my mind stuttered—one part desperate to pull away, the other wanting to melt right into him.

“I… I’m fine,” I managed to choke out, though my voice sounded smaller than I intended.

Enzo’s eyes softened as he studied me, and for a heartbeat, the room shrank to just the two of us—his hand still cradling the back of my neck, his presence radiating an intensity I could feel in my bones.

I stared into his brown eyes, wanting so badly to get lost in them, but resisted.

The more time I spent in this house, the more it was like reality was warping around me. I woke up, and Harper was in another room, playing with toys and dolls. When I walked down the steps, it was to the kitchen, not because I had to leave the building.

There was more than one bathroom, and more closet space in a single room than I think I had in my entire studio.

The windows were always open, fresh air constantly flowing. Nothing about this place felt cramped,

Somehow, I woke up in one of my fantasies.

“No.” I took a step back, not trusting myself not to do something inappropriate like throwing myself at him if I didn’t. “This is a lot of food.”

“Let’s get cooking.” Enzo ignored my comment and pulled a chair next to him on the counter. Harper climbed on, like she cooked there every night.

“Here we are.” Enzo came from the pantry holding another bag. “For the chef. This is from Martina.” Enzo proceeded to pull out a child-sized apron, a chef’s hat, and multiple kid-friendly knives.