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“I was sparring with Ryan, yeah. We were just finishing up.”
“So he told you about my date tonight?”
I nodded, and this news had her straightening, relaxing her arms at her sides as she crossed into the room as if delicately stepping over the invisible line that I’d done my best to maintain between us.
“Never offer yourself to me again,” I remembered telling her six years ago, and I’d meant every ugly word. If she wanted a happy life, untainted by the likes of me, then it was best if she never let me have her. Because I also meant what I told her three weeks ago, if she were to ever be mine, there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d ever be with anyone else. “I thought she was staying with Thomas tonight?” I steered my focus to the issue at hand—her dating someone. “What happened?”
“He had a work thing run late, so he bailed on me.” She frowned. “I was hoping you could watch Chiara.” At her words, she took her from me.
“You’re asking me to watch her while you’re on a date?” I slowly stood, and I was wrong, I still towered over her, even in her heels. “It’s only been five weeks since you’ve been divorced, maybe you should wait?”
She looked up at me with a stubborn lift of her chin. “And it’s been forever since a man has touched me.” She flicked her wrist, and her bangle bracelets jangled together.
Yeah, well, I wish no man other than me had ever touched you. And if Chiara wasn’t wedged between us, I’d allow my thoughts to turn dark. To picture this woman with her long legs over my shoulders, her heels digging into my back, and those bracelets clinking together, as I plunged in and out of her.
“Dating, are you sure that’s what you really want to do? Maybe give those dance lessons a try again?” I suggested.
Last month, she’d taken dance lessons and quit. The month prior, she’d taken a few real-estate classes. She’d been on a quest to find a new passion in her life ever since singledom, and I was all for her doing that. But did dating have to be next on her Things to Try list, as she called it?
“I sucked at dance lessons, and you accidentally walked in on me practicing and nearly fell on your ass laughing. These Italian hips just don’t move like they should.”
“Oh, I bet they do,” I blurted, forgetting myself for a second, and she bit her lip at my suggestive words. Shit. Fucking. Hell.
Maria innocently tipped one shoulder as she shared, “I love being a mother, you know that. And running Natalia’s catering business is great. But I feel like there’s this void inside me still. I’ve been searching for my thing for years, and I haven’t found it.”
“A ‘thing,’ huh?” I poked back in a teasing tone. “Tell me more about this thing you need.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”
“I am.” Now I am, at least. Because if finding a new man was going to be her “thing,” I’d more than likely lose my mind.
“In the meantime, while I figure myself out, why not have some fun, you know?” There went her other shoulder. A not-so-innocent lift this time because she’d followed it with the word fun in relation to dating. “I need to get back on the horse, as the saying goes.”
The blood drained from my face. “I don’t want to think about you on any horses. Literal or metaphorical.”
“No?” Her lips twitched as if fighting a smile.
Did she find me funny? I was serious, dammit. I crowded her personal space even more, but she didn’t back away. “You could break your neck riding a real horse.”
“And the other kind?” Oh, she was trying to get a rise out of me.
My little fireball. “Someone else’s neck will get broken,” I shared in a steady voice, letting her know I wasn’t joking.
“And you promised you’d behave when I started dating.”
She still thought I was joking. I hadn’t made myself clear, had I? But she didn’t know about my past, so why would she take me seriously? “I promised I wouldn’t”—I looked at her sweet daughter, not wanting to discuss murder in front of her—“put your date six feet under.” I said nothing about breaking bones.
“You’d never really hurt anyone. You’re all talk. You might look like some tough guy, but I see how you are with my daughter. You’re a softy.”
I stepped back and pointed to Chiara in her arms, my heart pounding. “For her, I’m who she needs me to be.”
“And who is that, exactly?” She lifted her chin, not backing down from her stubbornness to always press my buttons. She’d been relentless in pushing me to my limits since her birthday, ever since I opened my big mouth and admitted the truth, that I wanted her.
“Her friend. Her protector,” I said in a hoarse voice, dying to add father to that list.
“And tonight, her babysitter?”
This is a test, isn’t it? And if I failed, she’d move out in November. If I didn’t prove I could handle this, I’d lose her for good, I could feel it in my bones. But my dumb ass blurted, “So you can get laid?”
