The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(61)

Then he breaks the kiss and pulls back, flushed, breathing hard, his eyes smoky and dark, and it’s like I was drowning and didn’t want to come to the surface.

He touches my cheek with one finger. “No sleeping together,” he murmurs. “So who’s hungry?”

And with that, he rolls off me, leaving me limp and horny, and staggers into the kitchen.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“SO YOU’RE GOOD, SWEETHEART? You’re happy?”

“I’m doing pretty well, Mom,” I say into my cell phone, earning a glare from my own mother. She never liked it that I occasionally called Marie Mirabelli the same thing I called her. “How is it out there?”

I can almost hear the shrug, perfected by generations of Italians, a sort of who knows, what can you do, I’m suffering but I won’t complain gesture. “It’s hot,” she admits.

“It’s Arizona,” I say, opening the oven door to check my beautiful loaves. Two and a half more minutes ought to do it, both with the bread and my mother-in-law. “How’s Gianni? Getting in some golf?”

“Oh, him,” Marie says. “Golf. You’d think maybe he could relax, but instead he’s at the grocery store all day, buying enough food to feed an army. People don’t eat out here, Lucy. They exercise.” It’s clearly a dirty word. “It’s shameless! They want me to go to a yoga class. Yoga! Me! Like I want to twist myself around like a snake!”

“It sounds nice,” I answer, smiling. “All the things you’ve been too busy to do.”

She sighs. “Who said I wanted to do yoga?” She pauses. “How’s Nicky? You were an angel to send pictures. Has he grown?”

“He’s great,” I answer. “The sweetest boy in the world. And yes, he’s sprouting up. Ask him to sing you the Halloween song when you call. So cute.”

“Oh, I miss that little guy.” She sighs again. “And Ethan? How’s he?”

I grimace, wishing Ethan called his parents more often, since I’m often left shoveling them information on their son. “Ethan’s good.”

“Do you think he’s getting back with Parker? The two of them…I don’t understand. A beautiful child together, but they won’t get married. And now with Ethan living there all the time, what’s stopping them?”

I glance at my mother, who continues to eavesdrop shamelessly. “I…I’m not sure,” I fib. This would be the perfect moment to say something. Actually Ethan and I have been seeing each other a bit…

But I don’t say anything. It’s too soon. Instead I give Marie my love, ask her to hug Gianni for me and tell her how much I miss them both. Then I hang up, avoid my mother’s eyes and check my bread.

Ethan and I had dinner the other night, and it was an agony of discomfort. We’d gone to Lenny’s, and I’m fairly sure no one realized we were on a date. Ethan and I have been out to eat many times before, after all. Less frequently in the past two years, granted, when smokin’ sex was how we spent our time, but I’m sure this dinner didn’t look any different to the untrained eye. But Ethan was practically levitating with energy, talked nonstop, trying—way too hard—to entertain me. I was so nervous I could barely eat. It was beyond tense. I couldn’t think of anything to say—mentioning Jimmy seemed verboten, but avoiding the subject altogether felt unnatural, too. All the little customer stories I had from the bakery evaporated as I tried to think of something—anything—to talk about. We were reduced to talking about the weather and our food. Pathetic.

When we walked back to the Boatworks, Ethan escorted me to my door, then leaned against the wall, waiting for me to find my keys as Fat Mikey yowled from inside.

“Well, thanks, Eth,” I said, blushing. I didn’t want him to kiss me. I just wanted to be inside, safe with my cat. Oh, I wanted him to kiss me, and if he did, then we all know what would happen…I’d maul him right here in the hallway. Fat Mikey began headbutting the door as if he could break it down. Ethan’s eyes were steady, waiting. I looked at the floor.

“You’re welcome,” he said, then kissed my cheek. “See you soon.”

Before he even disappeared around the corner to the stairs, I missed him.

I ended up knocking on Ash’s door to see if she wanted to practice making pumpkin walnut cheesecake, which is what’s on the menu for our next class, and lucky for me, she did. And the whole time, I couldn’t get my mind off Ethan, and so it’s been. When he’s around, I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. When he’s not, I miss him.

“So what’s eating you, Lucy?” Iris asks now, cocking her head in a concerned manner.

“Oh, nothing. Preoccupied, I guess,” I say, smiling at my starchy aunt. Though Rose is the more affectionate aunt, Iris is a bit more perceptive, despite her bulldozer personality.

“Dating’s not going too well?” she suggests.

“It’s…I don’t know. It’s harder than I thought,” I say.

“I thought I might date a little, too,” Rose says, making me bobble the tray of bread I just took out.

“Oh, yes,” Iris confirms, the sarcasm dripping. “All of a sudden, this one wants to see what’s out there. You should’ve seen her at the senior center when we got our flu shots. Four men, fanning around her, ignoring me. Just like when we were young. Me the smart one, her the pretty one.”