Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(58)

I’m so close to him, now, I can feel the puppy’s velvety fur brushing up against my arm every time he takes a breath. Still, it somehow doesn’t feel close enough. For a crazy instant, I consider what it would be like if I cast aside all my hangups, leaned across the divide, and crushed my mouth against Luca’s.

What would it be like?

Wonderful. It would be freaking wonderful, Lila.

Or have you already forgotten this afternoon?

Before I can do something infinitely stupid, like test that theory, I hear the sound of a key turning in the front door. Joyce and Ted are home.

There is a god.

Luca’s hand drops away as we both scramble to our feet. He lifts the puppy into his arms like a newborn baby. Fenway barely acknowledges the disturbance, except to let out a low, displeased yap.

How dare you foolish humans interrupt my doggie slumber?

The Macombers sneak into their own home like bandits in the night, as though afraid any noise at all will wake their children. With whispered thanks, they hand me a thick wad of cash and walk us to the door. Joyce, who’s had at least four glasses of wine at dinner, shamelessly mouths HE’S SO HOT! at me behind Luca’s back while her husband, Ted, grins at his wife and mouths, SHE’S SO DRUNK!

I suppress a giggle and shake my head at them as we step over the threshold.

Hashtag couple goals.

Once we’re outside, Luca walks me to my door. We linger on my stoop for a moment in silence; if I had to guess, I’d say we’re both more than a little afraid to shatter it.

“You’ll be needing this,” he mutters finally, passing Fenway into my arms.

I smile as I take the puppy from him. “Thanks again, for all you did today.”

“No need to thank me, babe.”

“There is, though.” I swallow. “Between getting my phone back from Mr. McGuire, talking to the police on my behalf, and helping with the twins… I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

There’s a beat of silence.

I can think of a few ways, his eyes inform me, so heated I think I might combust.

I take a hasty step backward, out of his space. “I’ll see you around, Buchanan.”

His lips twist. “That you will, Delilah.”

“At Phoebe’s Christmas party,” I say, only half teasing.

His lips twist. “Before then, babe.”

“Oh? Is there a Halloween party I’m unaware of?”

His smirk turns into a smile. “Nope.”

“Fourth of July?”

He shakes his head.

I sigh. “Well, I’m fresh out of holidays.”

“Has to be a holiday party for us to cross paths, huh?”

“Based on our history, I’d say yes. The past few days have been… an exception.”

“Uh huh.” His smile becomes a grin. “So, what’s the plan? You go back to leaving a room whenever I walk into it?”

“I so don’t do that.” I huff indignantly.

He stares at me, still grinning, the bastard.

Okay, I might do that. Occasionally.

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry, Luca. I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch to you. Is that what you need to hear?”

“Don’t need to hear anything, babe. Want to hear your reasoning for it. But you take your time with that explanation. Don’t mind waiting for you to figure it out, even if I already have.”

“And what exactly have you figured out, oh mighty all-seeing one?”

He shrugs. “From where I’m standing, the past few days with me you haven’t once knocked over any board games or flailed like a fish out of water or walked into any large appliances. You haven’t been squirrelly at all.”

“I’m never squirrelly!”

“Babe, you get any squirrelier, I’m afraid I’m gonna find you hoarding acorns for winter.”

I glare at him. “You’re not funny.”

“Wasn’t joking.” He steps closer. “Thing is, I’ve got a working theory about why you’re such a spaz whenever I come around. You wanna hear it?”

“Definitely not.”

“Too bad, I’m in a sharing mood.” His eyes glimmer despite the darkness. “See, at first I figured you just didn’t like me. Weren’t into it. Didn’t feel the attraction. Slight blow to my ego, but I could deal… if that was actually the case.”

Gulp.

“But, then, I started watching you. The way your eyes would go all wide whenever you saw me. How you’d never make direct eye contact, or even look at me if you thought I was paying attention, let alone flirt with me, despite the fact that flirting is your varsity sport.”

I scoff.

Rude!

I mean… true… but still rude.

He leans down to trap my gaze. “So, I got to thinking, maybe all those times you bolted when I came around weren’t ‘cause you weren’t into me. Maybe you acting nervous and flighty and downright off-your-rocker was because of the exact opposite reason.”

My throat feels tight. “Is there a point to all this hypothesizing, or can I go to bed now?”

His eyes flash.

Oh, boy. Taunting him may not have been the best idea.

He leans close, so close his lips are practically on mine, and hisses.