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“Was it a strain?” she asked politely.
His grin warmed her, head to toe. “Actually, it was. I got somewhere, though. I figured out that my role model was the cop I told you about, the one who saved my ass. It went further than me becoming a cop like him.”
She clung to his hand watched his face.
“I saw him as free. Nobody weighing him down. That impression…solidified, even though I should have known better once I was older. I called him yesterday, and while we were talking he told me I was a fool if I wished for less family. His wife died of cancer before they could have kids. I don’t know if I said that.” At her nod, Tony kept talking. “He admitted he’s never met anyone who could take her place. For the first time, I let myself hear how lonely he is. I felt like an idiot.”
“That’s sad,” she murmured.
“Yeah, it is.” His mouth twisted. “I also realized I’ve let myself revert to old habits since I came home after Dad died. I sat my mother down and had a talk. I think she understood.”
“Really?” Beth said in surprise.
He laughed. “She’ll forget, but I laid down some rules, and I’ll stick to them.”
“I’ve made some resolutions of my own,” Beth confessed. “Long past due.”
Tony tipped his head. “Ditto.” He hesitated. “This is a roundabout way of telling you I’ve been seriously falling for you. I’ve never come close to feeling the same about any other woman. When you kicked me out, I felt like you’d—God, I don’t know—torn a hole into me. Chopped off an arm or a leg or something.”
Yes. She’d felt the same.
“I know where I want us to go.” Anxiety mixed with tenderness in his gaze. “We can take it slow—you need time—but I’m hoping you’ll feel good enough to come to Sunday dinner at my sister Maria’s house.”
She blinked. “This Sunday?”
“We could put it off to the next Sunday,” he said hurriedly. “Or…longer than that, if you’re not ready. I don’t mean to get pushy.”
Beth laughed in relief and joy and a whole lot else, not caring that her wound twanged a protest. “Pushy is your middle name.”
Shoulders she hadn’t known were tense relaxed as he smiled at her. “Maybe.” This smile dimmed. “I can work on it.”
“No. Pushy is another word for strong.” Past a lump in her throat, she said, “I can hardly imagine what it would be like to sometimes be able to lean on someone else.” No, not true—she’d already learned what it felt like.
He momentarily looked away. “Mamá said something that surprised me. I asked why she always called me instead of one of the others, and she said it was because everyone in the family trusts me. Not everyone does what they promise, but I do.”
He sounded bemused, as if he hadn’t known how trustworthy he was. It made her eyes sting again. “You do. I want that. I want you.”
Tony planted a hand on the pillow beside her head and bent to kiss her softly on the forehead, then on the tip of one cheekbone, the bridge of her nose. “God, Beth,” he muttered, just before he reached her mouth. “I’ve been…” He didn’t say what he’d been. He kissed her instead, his mouth gentle but his hunger for her close to the surface.
Beth closed her eyes and let herself drink in every sensation. She laid her hand on his jaw, savoring the roughness and hard bone. Then she slipped her arm around his neck and held on tight as the kiss deepened, as she, at least, forgot where they were.
He was the one to pull back, although dark color in his cheeks and a gleam in his eyes suggested he hadn’t been far from losing it.
“If you’ll put up with my family,” he said huskily, “I’ll put up with yours.”
Beth managed a shaky smile. “Deal.”
“Your brother is actually growing on me.”
Something like a giggle escaped her. “Me, too.”
He was suddenly serious. “Your place is a crime scene, you know.”
The idea of yellow tape wrapping her doors made her queasy.
“Will you come home with me?” he asked.
