Finding It (Losing It, #3)(64)

“Right, of course,” he said, laughing. “You know, you seem to really love this stuff.”

“Rome? I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who doesn’t love this stuff at least a little. Thank Russell Crowe.”

“No, I mean, the history. You could be a teacher.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Me? Um, I would probably cuss out a student on the first day.”

I thought about that day in Budapest with my young artist. It had been exciting, helping him, but I’d also wanted to punch that bully in the solar plexus.

“No, you wouldn’t. You would be great. And all your students would actually listen because you’re gorgeous.”

“Yes, that’s what qualifies me for being a teacher. Having boobs.”

He shrugged. “That would have been enough for me when I was in high school.”

I shook my head and changed the subject. “I know you told me you don’t have anything waiting for you back home. Does that mean you’re still in the military?”

“Not anymore, no.”

I touched his shoulder where I knew he had a thin scar, wondering if that had something to do with it.

“And you don’t have anything to get back to?”

“I told you, Kelsey.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m all yours.”

That night, he set out to prove it. Slowly, like we were starting all over from scratch.

He kissed me until there was no trace of pain in his touch, until I couldn’t remember any other lips but his.

He found every little sensitive nook that made my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. He knew what made me hold my breath and what made me cry out his name.

He particularly enjoyed that discovery.

He explored my body like he was the very first one, and in many ways, it felt that way for me, too.

He held me close, his fingers wrapped up in my hair and our bodies connected. His breath tickled across my lips, and I thought … this is what it means to trust someone.

I didn’t realize I was crying until he kissed away the tears.

I didn’t realize a lot of things when I was caught up in him.

From Rome we headed to Naples, where I had three goals: pizza, Pompeii, and more pizza. And maybe to surreptitiously take pictures of Italian men in suits that I thought could be part of the Mafia. But that was an unofficial goal.

We boarded a regional train from Rome and found an empty compartment in the last car. There were three seats facing each other on each side of the compartment. Hunt took a seat by the window, and I sat in the middle and snuggled up against him.

“So, I was thinking we might go to Capri after Naples. It’s not too far.”

“Are there more nude beaches?” I asked.

He pinched my side, and I squealed, contorting my body away from him. He pulled me back to him laughing, and the train slowly pulled out of the station.

I said, “Fine. Then I’ll have to go shopping for another swimsuit.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with that. As long as you model the options for me.”

I said, “I think I can handle that,” and launched myself into his lap, giggling.

He slid away from the window a little, so my knees could fit on either side of him. His eyes flicked to the compartment door, checking that the curtain was drawn.

“Now, this is by far the best way to travel.”

I found that spot on his jaw that drove him crazy and concentrated my energy there. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down against him.

“Kelsey.”

I ground my hips against him, and his head dropped back against the seat with a groan. God, I would never get tired of doing this to him.

“Kelsey, how are you feeling?”

“Really?” I pressed my chest against his. “Do you actually have to ask that?”

He pulled my hands from his shoulders and pushed them down by my thighs. “I didn’t mean that. I meant about the things we discussed in Cinque Terre. These days in Rome have been fun, but I need you to be honest with me and tell me where you’re at.”

“At the moment, I’m in your lap.”

“I’m serious. There are some things I want to talk about, but I don’t want to push you too fast.”

That didn’t sound even remotely like a way I wanted to pass this train ride.

I pulled his face forward and said, “Kiss now, talk later.”

“Kelsey—”

“I don’t know, Jackson. I don’t know how I feel yet. I’m so used to pretending, to shoving it all away and pasting on a smile that sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I’m trying, but I don’t know.”

His eyes searched mine for a few seconds, and I saw something flicker there that looked like pain, and I didn’t want him to pity me any more than he already did.

So, I leaned down to kiss him again. He hesitated, and I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth. His hips lifted up into me, and his mouth seized mine.

“Irresistible,” he breathed.

“So you keep telling me.”

His hands ventured up from my hips to tease the skin just below the hem of my shirt. Then he stopped teasing and slid one hand up my spine to the clasp of my bra. My whole body seemed to bloom at his touch, like my heart expanded and my ribs had to unfold like petals to make room.