“He came home early, and my parents are meeting him to pick up Chiara and babysit. He’s got a work emergency, so he’s about to leave town. But please, don’t go after him. Not yet, at least. Just don’t do anything until I’m back. We’ll handle this together.” That was the best I could do for now. Delay his need for justice, because there wasn’t a chance in hell Thomas would walk away from this unscathed.
“Fine,” Ryan slowly remarked, but I knew his wheels were spinning, and he’d be pacing the floor with anger the second we hung up.
“Does that mean you’re coming back home, Maria?” Natalia asked as I punched in the gate code to my parents’ home.
“No, I’m not. I’ll just be gone for a few days. But I need to be here. Can you help Mom and Dad with Chiara? Keep everyone blissfully ignorant as to why I’m here?” she answered before I had a chance to summon a response.
“Yeah, uh, okay,” Natalia hesitantly agreed.
“We’re at his parents’ now, so I need to go. I’m just so sorry my stupid ex did this. We’ll talk later.” Maria ended the call before anyone could protest, and she shoved her phone into her purse in a hurry.
“You really want to be here? You’re ready for this?” I asked while parking.
“Put on a smile and act like the world’s not on fire? Sure, I took a theater class in college. Totally sucked at it, but you know . . . here’s my chance for a do-over.”
“Theater, huh?”
“Yeah, don’t ask. Like I said, I suckity-sucked at it.”
How did she have me wanting to smile right now?
“And wow. I mean, wow.” She sat taller when setting her eyes upon the home. While unbuckling, her purse fell to the floor. “This place looks like the midcentury had a baby with the contemporary.” She was talking with her hands, and when her gaze caught mine for a moment, I loved the way her eyes lit up.
“You have an eye for architectural design.”
“I suck at graphic design. And I can’t draw, you know that. Give me a ruler, and I’ll draw you a crooked line.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate art,” I reminded her.
Also, why hadn’t we ever had that conversation before? We’d spent almost every day together this past year. Of course, we’d mostly been at work, because I usually did my best to avoid being alone in her apartment with her; otherwise, I’d have slipped my hand down her panties long ago. Clearly, my control around her was as flimsy as a piece of notebook paper floating in the wind. It’d be gone-gone-fucking-gone.
“True,” she finally answered as her smile met her eyes. “When I see a good thing in front of me, it’s hard not to notice.”
“Yeah, I can relate.” My gaze fell to her thighs, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was without her panties. What is wrong with me?
When her legs pinned together, it felt like she was blinking a yellow caution light. A reminder to behave and focus, and apparently I needed that. She truly was a distraction.
I scratched my chin, my facial hair in that irritating not-yet-a-beard stage.
“How, um, big is this place?” Her nerves stretched her words out, somehow making every innocent thing she said sexy.
“I think it’s about fifteen thousand square feet. Only seven bedrooms, though. Either you’ll bunk with Izzy, or Mom will let her stay with her boyfriend and you’ll have your own room.” But knowing my mom, she’d never let Izzy share a bed while unmarried. “Mom won’t let anyone stay in Bianca’s old room.”
Maria visibly shivered, her gaze going back to the driveway full of cars. “Looks like a luxury car dealership,” she said, clearly opting for a subject change, and I didn’t blame her. “The Lamborghini is Alessandro’s, right?” I didn’t follow her eyes and instead, slung my forearm over the wheel and studied her. A shy sweep of red climbed up her throat, nearly hiding the slight bruises I’d given her from kissing her a bit too roughly. “And the Maserati is classy and sophisticated. Constantine’s?” Without waiting for my answer, she went on. “The Tesla has to be Izzy’s. She probably cares about the environment.” She frowned and tugged at the long sleeves of her red dress. “Not saying the rest of you don’t, but Izzy—”
“Izzy is Izzy,” I finished with a smile. “Yeah.”
“But the truck? That’s a curveball. I mean, it’s a nice one. But doesn’t feel like something a Costa would drive.”