Elena lifted her hand. “Mom. Enough.”
“What?” Arietta asked, hands perched at her waist. “I was just giving your friend here a compliment.”
“Thank you,” he said, and refrained from using one of those “I see where Elena gets her looks from” lines. Maybe later when he got to know her mother better, he would come up with something more original.
Elena nudged his elbow, and the smile she threw at him was filled with encouragement. And gratitude.
“Is Papa here? The boys?” Elena asked.
“They all went to the store to buy some drinks. Should be back anytime soon.”
“Great. I’ll show Devon his room.”
Her mother nodded. “You do that.”
Devon and Elena barely exchanged a word as they took the stairs that led to the second floor. In the hallway, he spotted more family pictures, but he avoided looking at them. Instead, he focused his attention on the gentle, alluring sway of Elena’s hips.
When she opened the door of a room and gestured for him to enter, he smiled. Maybe coming all the way to New York wasn’t such a bad idea.
“This is your room. Mine is down the hall.”
He looked at the stern bedroom. The scent of linen and fresh flowers clung to the air. Wooden nightstands framed a queen-sized bed on either side, and on the moss-green walls he saw some soccer awards and pictures of a dark haired kid with a ball. “Separate rooms? Do your parents know—”
Once again, she rolled her eyes. “That I’ve had sex before? I’m sure they do considering I was married once. But they’re old-fashioned and since I’m supposed to stay here, I thought it’d be easier if you did too. And that means separate bedrooms. Maybe that was a bad move.”
You think?Earlier that morning, when he suggested she make reservations at his favorite NYC hotel, she had been adamant about staying at her parents’. “No. I’m good with this arrangement.”
She worried her bottom lip, and wrung her hands. “You’re not a good liar.”
“I’m not a good anything.”
“You’re good…to me,” she said. He sucked in his breath, as if there were a gun pointed at his head. She stood there, lovely in that small room, hands fidgety. “Anyway. I better go freshen up before the boys get here. Think you will survive the Morettis?”
“I’ll survive,” he said, and smiled at the most dangerous one.
