Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(77)

“Hey!” I hiss, glaring up at his Adam’s apple. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing you to bed.”

“I was already asleep!”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Well.” My cheeks heat. “I was about to be asleep. Bring me back to the sectional.”

“No.”

“Luca!”

“Babe. I’m tired. Don’t wanna fight with you anymore. Also don’t wanna sleep without you in my bed. While you’re staying here, you sleep next to me. House rule.”

He lowers me onto his mattress and follows me down. I try to keep my frame rigid, stiff-backed at the edge of the mattress, but he’s having no part in that. He reaches out, pulls me back into his chest, and curls his large frame around mine so we’re spooning.

I have to admit, it feels pretty nice.

“You’re bossy,” I inform him sleepily, eyes drifting closed despite my best intentions.

A kiss lands on the back of my neck. “Yeah, well, you’re a pain in the ass.”

I smile in the dark — safe and warm and utterly content, wrapped in the arms of a man who drives me insane.

I’m half-asleep when a low whine reaches my ears. Without opening my eyes all the way, I murmur a command to my bossy big spoon.

“Luca, love… the dog.”

I’m so tired, I don’t notice the way Luca’s whole body goes still at my absentminded endearment, as if I’ve said something that stuns him. My own eyes are closed, so I don’t see the way his light up in the darkness.

Very gently, he untangles his limbs from mine, leans over the side of the mattress, and pulls the puppy into bed with us. Fenway settles in the spot by my stomach and immediately starts to snooze.

I’m nearly asleep, slipping over the rim of unconsciousness, so I can’t be sure if Luca’s low growl is real or the fragment of a dream when it reaches my ears a few moments later.

“Mine.”



In the morning, he’s gone when I wake.

Again.

I walk into the kitchen, experiencing a strange sensation of déjà vu, except this time there’s no one on the patio and bright light is streaming through the windows.

I catch sight of a note pad sitting on the countertop beside a French press full of fresh coffee. I help myself to a cup as my eyes scan Luca’s messy handwriting.

Babe -

Took Fenway for a walk. Back soon.

Don’t go anywhere.

- L





I sip my coffee and shake my head, amused and exasperated. Even in note form, his domineering side shines through clear as day. Pulling open his fridge in search of creamer, my eyes widen when I find shelves full of organic vegetables, Greek yogurt, two dozen eggs, and a metric ton of fruit. The drawers are full of protein — chicken, steak, hamburgers. It shouldn’t surprise me: the man is a fighter, after all; clean eating is a vital part of staying in his weight class and maintaining those impressive muscles. Still, it’s somehow hard for me to picture Luca cooking anything except banana pancakes.

A smile twitches my lips up as I spot the bottle of syrup on his shelf. I reach past it and grab the creamer. After dumping a dollop into my lukewarm coffee, I zap it in the microwave for thirty seconds, then take my steaming mug out onto the patio to watch the boats drift by from one of Luca’s lounge chairs. There’s a Coast Guard base next door to his building — I spot several patrol inflatables zipping by, along with tankers, tugboats, and more than one sailing vessel.

It’s been ages since I made it out on the water for a sail. Not since the last time I was home in Nantucket. My parents have a forty-foot sloop, mostly reserved for impressing potential business clients in the cockpit without ever leaving the slip.

I’m afraid the boat has been even more neglected these past few years, since Mimi and Charlie died; they took it out more than anyone else. I have about a million memories of the three of us, racing through the deep blue waters of the Cape, laughing in the sunshine.

I stand and lean against the railing for a better view, my thoughts consumed by the sudden flood of memories. Like it or not, Mimi is on my mind and she doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. Part of me would like to believe it’s her spirit, trying to guide me from beyond; a bigger part of me knows my preoccupation with her and Charlie’s tragic end is tied to the sudden developments in my own love life.

Yesterday, at the rehearsal, I thought my panic was spurred solely by watching Phoebe practice saying I do. But now, with the benefit of space, I recognize it had very little to do with my best friend… and everything to do with the man who was standing directly across from me on that wedding dais.

Marriage, as an institution, does not scare me.

Luca scares me.

This thing between us, whatever it is, is only getting more intense the more time we spend together. And he doesn’t see the problem with any of it. In fact, he keeps pushing for more, dragging me deeper into this ocean of desire, until I’m so caught up I can’t tell which way to swim to reach the surface.

If I were smart, I’d cut it off now. Walk away before we have another night like last night… before he can embed himself even further in my life… before I start believing him when he tells me I’m his… before I start wanting impossible things…