Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(56)

My throat feels tighter than normal as I slowly extract myself from the twins, doing my best not to wake them.

“Asleep?” Luca whispers, appearing at my side like a ghost. I’ll never get used to the way he moves — in total stealth, a feat that should be damn near impossible for a man of such large proportions.

Nodding, I turn to the bed and lightly shift Potter’s body, so her head is on the pillow and her limbs are covered by the blankets. I have no idea how I’m going to get Harry back up to his bunk without rousing him.

“Here, I’ll get him.” Luca swoops in before I can blink, lifts Harry into his arms with such gentleness you’d think the boy were made of glass, and promptly deposits him in his bed. I watch his big hands pull the covers up over the boy, and curse my stupid heart for clenching like a fist inside my chest.

I wasn’t wrong, earlier.

He’ll make a great father one day.

We’re silent as we douse the lights and walk out of their room, the door shutting behind us with a soft click. I can feel Luca looming close on my heels as we descend the stairs and walk back to the kitchen. The puppy is sound asleep on the hardwood floor, limbs splayed in all directions like a boneless starfish.

“I don’t even have food for him, just remnants of the kibble Duncan left behind in his doggie carrier,” I murmur, glancing at Luca. “I suppose, if I’m keeping him, I’ll have to get some. Plus a bed, and toys, and plastic bags.” I narrow my eyes at the dog. “Lots and lots of plastic bags, pup, because you are a mass producer of poo. I genuinely do not understand know how such a small beast can create such a big output.”

Luca steps up to my side. “You ever gonna give him a name, or keep calling him pooch and pup forever?”

“If I name him, I have to commit to keeping him.”

“Ah. And Delilah James Sinclair never commits to anything.”

“That is not true. When I find a flattering shade of lipstick, I rarely vary from it. I’ve been wearing the same MAC red since I was sixteen.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Then what did you mean, pray tell?” I flutter my eyelashes. “No doubt another charming criticism of my every personality trait.”

He shakes his head. “Not a criticism. Also not a fan of you pulling this Holly Golightly shit, though — her and her no-name slob cat, who she can’t own up to loving or naming, ‘cause she’s so determined to be alone. Hate to break it to you, babe, but that never love a wild thing mentality never made anyone happy, least of all her.”

“You’ve seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” I exclaim, stunned by the revelation.

Who the hell got Luca Buchanan to watch a rom-com? The question sends an unfamiliar flare of jealousy through my chest. I ignore it, with effort.

“Not the point, babe.”

“Well, it was kind of the point, I mean, the fact that you’ve seen that movie is a vital part of your little anecdote—”

“Delilah.”

My mouth snaps closed. I sigh and look back at the sleeping puppy for a moment in silence.

“Fenway.”

“Come again?”

“Fenway.”

“The neighborhood, the frank, or the ballpark?” he asks, still not understanding.

“The dog.” I look up at him. “What, is it a bad name? I told you I don’t know anything about dogs! See, this is just stupid. Forget I said anything, clearly I’m out of my depth here and—”

“Babe.” Luca’s voice is as soft as his eyes.

My heart pounds. “Yeah?”

“It’s a good name.”

“Oh.” An uncomfortably warm sensation shoots through my veins. “Right. Fine. Whatever.”

He chuckles as I cross the kitchen to sit with my newly-christened pet, as though he finds me vastly entertaining, despite the fact that I wasn’t trying to be funny.

Rude.

“If you need someone to take you to the pet store, I’d be happy to drive you. Know your car is… indisposed.”

“Don’t you have a fight you’re supposed to be training for?”

“You want a ride or not?”

“Not. There’s a place right around the corner, I’ll walk over first thing in the morning. Thanks anyway, though.” I glance up at him from the floor. He looks absurdly tall, from down here. “And… thanks for helping me with the kids today. They had way more fun with you there.”

“I had fun with them, too. They’re good kids.”

I nod and stare at my hands as they stroke Fenway’s fur, because I’m way too chickenshit to look at Luca when I say the next part. “I’ve had a lot of bad days, recently, but this one was definitely an improvement. It was almost… fun.” I pause and pull in a breath. “You made it fun.”

I don’t hear him move, but I know he’s there — crouching beside me, so close I could reach out and touch him with ease. We’re sitting on a cold hardwood floor, but everything in my body feels superheated with Luca invading my space.

“I had fun too,” he says softly. Just the timbre of his voice is enough to make me tremble.

The sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket cuts through the tension between us like a gunshot. He glances briefly at the screen, grimaces, and promptly hits a button to send the caller straight to voicemail.