Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(45)
When I feel the weight of a stare, I glance up and find Luca watching me with a strange look in his eyes. We’re alarmingly close — a foot or so apart, separated only by the furry, four-legged body between us.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t a nothing kind of look, Luca.”
He shrugs. “You’ve got a gentleness about you, underneath all that fire. Knew you could be kind; never knew you were sweet, though.”
“I’m not sweet,” I deny immediately. “Sassy, maybe. But definitely not sweet.”
“Beg to differ, babe.”
“What did I say about calling me that?”
He smiles, slow and sinful. “You want, I’ll come up with some other things to call you. Doubt you’ll like them any better.”
Retreat!
“Or you could just call me Lila, like everyone else on the planet.”
“Thing is, though…” He leans in an inch and I swear, the air starts humming with palpable tension. “I don’t want to be like everyone else. Not when it comes to you.”
Fall back! All units, fall back!
I push to my feet so I have an excuse to stop staring at him, taking a series of deep breaths that do absolutely nothing to calm my thundering heartbeat.
“What are you doing here? Besides picking locks and harassing me?”
He stands to full height, towering over me. The puppy is cradled in his arms, an adorably soft contrast to the corded strength of Luca’s bicep muscles.
Do not start drooling. Do not start drooling. Do not start drooling.
As I watch, Luca transfers the puppy to a single arm, so he’s cradled like a football, and reaches into his back pocket to retrieve a slim smartphone. I recognize the cherry red Kate Spade case instantly.
“That’s mine!” I exclaim, blinking at him as he offers it to me. “Where on earth did you get it?”
He’s silent.
My eyes lock on his suddenly guarded ones. “Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”
“Seeing as I’m not a mind reader…”
“Luca Buchanan!”
His brows lift.
“Tell me you did not drive to an octogenarian’s house — which, for the record, I’m not even sure how you found, considering I never told you where it was — for the sole purpose of retrieving my cellphone.”
He holds my stare calmly. “I did not drive there to get your cellphone back.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. (Prematurely, it turns out, because Luca isn’t finished speaking.)
“I drove there to have a little chat with the elderly fucker about the meaning of professionalism as it pertains to his female employees. Specifically, about how he needs to keep his goddamned hands to his goddamned self whenever he’s around those employees, or he won’t have any functioning hands left to grope with by the time I’m through with him.” He shrugs. “Getting your cellphone back was just convenient, since I was already there.”
“What the fu—”
“Also,” he adds softly. “On my drive back, I swung by the Mattapan precinct. Had a nice chat with the officers who pulled you over the other night. They won’t be pursuing any charges for reckless driving, or anything else.”
“But—”
“And lastly.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick envelope. “This. Your pay for cleaning that bastard’s house, plus the two weeks’ severance he owes you for creating unsuitable working conditions that cost you an employment opportunity. And possibly a little something extra, as payment for me not putting my foot up his ass.” Luca’s grin has a dark edge, but his eyes are swimming with warmth. “Should be enough there to tide you over, for a while at least. Give you some time to figure things out.”
I stare at him, unblinking. Letting all he’s done crash into me like a wave. My hands curl into fists as I struggle to contain the tide of emotions welling up inside me. Try as I might to push them down, to force them back into the confines of my heart where they cannot escape, I can’t seem to contain them. It’s too much.
He’s too much.
“I…” I suck in a tremulous breath. “Luca, I…you… this…” I can’t form words. They’re sticking in my throat like glue, a tangle of fury and gratitude and utter disbelief blocking my airway and making articulation impossible.
His brows go up in question.
“I cannot believe you!” I explode, finally finding my voice. “You are the most impossible, stubborn, pigheaded, overbearing caveman I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting! Making decisions without ever bothering to check what anyone else might want!”
My eyes are stinging precariously and there’s an odd break in my voice I barely recognize. I try to focus on Luca, but it’s like he’s not even there anymore. Like I’m speaking to someone else entirely, someone who isn’t here to take the brunt of my frustration because he bailed on me. Again.
“This is really over the top, even for you! God, what were you thinking? Were you thinking? I mean, honestly, did you even consider the repercussions of your actions? The circumstance this would put me in?” I laugh, but it comes out sounding strangely like a sob. “No, of course not. You just show up here, barging in completely uninvited, may I add, and leave me to pick up all the pieces of the mess you made! And don’t even get me started on the freaking dog! I don’t even know what to do with a dog. I’ve never had a pet. The Sinclairs never wanted the commitment of an animal. Noooo, that would be terrible! You can’t take off on a spontaneous trip to Europe when you have a dog, now can you? Feel free to leave the kids behind though, they can feed and water themselves.”