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Even though it was dark, I could sense Lauren’s disquiet at my admission. I smothered the urge to smooth over my admission with a lie to preserve the sweetness between us, but I couldn’t sully the first real thing I’d allowed myself to feel in years by being disingenuous.
“People make mistakes and they change and grow,” Lauren said. “Or they don’t and they keep making the same mistakes, but either way, it’s their choice one way or another.”
“Which is why you don’t date anymore either because of Houston.”
“I don’t date because I have a sensitive six-year-old who is more important to me than the inconvenience of suffering a few nights of loneliness.”
“Lauren, I was honest with you, do me the courtesy of being the same,” I said, not letting her skate past without at least owning her actions, as well. “You’re afraid of being hurt.” Her silence confirmed my assumption and prompted me to admit, “Well, I am, too. I’m afraid of hurting another good woman.”
A woman like you.
I didn’t like how the mood had changed. The night, to this point, had been the most fantastic on record, and I hated how such serious talk had put a blemish on an otherwise perfect evening. I gathered Lauren in my arms, and she went willingly. I inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume and skin and committed it to memory. I knew this feeling and I knew to run from it before everything soured like milk left out in the hot sun.
Eventually, every relationship I was in curdled.
I wouldn’t do that to Lauren and Grady.
Which meant I needed to either cut ties now and risk hurt feelings or finish my so-called project and end things on a professional note as agreed upon.
My inclination was to cut ties, but that would save only my feelings. Spending more time with Lauren and Grady, even under the guise of the project, would only prolong the inevitable and suck all of us deeper into quicksand.
I should’ve never interfered with Lauren’s life. If I hadn’t barreled my way into her life, she would’ve been happy to go along as she always had, meting out a meager lifestyle on her paltry salary, but strong in her heart.
Now I was the thorn, burrowed deep, unwittingly killing her.
“We’ll get started on the project tomorrow. Seriously.”
She brightened, happy to be working again. “Awesome. I promise you won’t regret hiring me. I can’t wait to write your story. I’m going to make the world see the real you. Including your brothers.”
Her genuine enthusiasm only made me feel wretched. The project had been a sham and my actions underhanded, but I had to see it through, even if I just stuck the finished manuscript in a box and lit it on fire. Dante was right; no one wanted to read about my life, what little I’d done with it.
But for now, I’d play the game for Lauren’s sake because she deserved far better than having me crash into her life and ruin it.
I grasped her hand and asked with a rueful grin, “Shall we make our escape?” She nodded with a tremulous smile, and we slipped from the room to the exit where the car awaited.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lauren
NICO HAD ADMITTED the very thing I’d suspected all along—he was averse to commitment, which meant he wasn’t the right fit for Grady and me.
His admission should’ve snapped me out of whatever spell Nico had been weaving around me, but it only served to make me want to cry. There was a side of him that was so incredibly sweet and generous, but maybe I was just falling for the charm and not the real Nico.
Who was the real Nico? I didn’t know.
For that matter, I didn’t know anything about him aside from that we were fantastic in bed together and my son thought he was better than sliced bread with peanut butter.
I didn’t know his friends—aside from Houston, if Nico could call him that.
I didn’t know his family—aside from that one awkward encounter with his brother Dante.
I didn’t even know his favorite color.
Basically, I knew nothing because he never planned to make me a permanent part of his life.
To be fair, I’d known this from the start and supported it, but now the knowledge hurt.
Since it was late, I’d prearranged for Grady to stay the night with my mom, which meant I was free to sleep with Nico for the entire night if I chose.
But did I want to do that?
Probably not a good idea.
We arrived at the apartment—his place already felt like home—and just as I was about to turn toward the spare bedroom, Nico caught my hand and shook his head, that one wordless motion telling me everything I needed to know.
No words. No more conversation. Just our bodies doing what our bodies did best.
I closed my eyes as he undressed me with all the tender attention of a man who hadn’t been with me only an hour prior, and I allowed the pleasure to roll over me as his tongue slipped between my folds to lick and suck until I broke out in a sweat and came hard.
Shuddering as the pleasure went bone-deep, I sighed as the last wave crashed over me, settling against Nico’s naked body, limp and content.
And that was how I fell asleep.
The following morning I awoke before Nico. I rolled to my side and propped my head with my hand, smiling as he slept. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Truly. Almost too pretty. Between that wash of dark hair and those classic cheekbones, not to mention that killer body, he could give a Calvin Klein underwear model a run.
Bu
t from what I knew of the Donato men, they were all handsome. I could easily see how women wobbled to their knees whenever one was around.
All signs pointed toward walking away, cutting my losses, but when I looked at him, my heart did funny things and my lips wanted to smile, if only to give shape to the feeling in my soul.
As much as I liked to think I’d been in love with Houston...what I felt for Nico was nothing like how I’d felt about Houston.
This felt deeper, more stable and yet wildly intoxicating.
The way Nico was with Grady—there was no faking that emotion. He might be able to fool me, but whatever was happening between him and my son was 100 percent real.
And it was the same for Grady.
Damn it—I knew I shouldn’t have let Grady get attached, but how could I not when Grady had been so happy?
Nico’s eyes opened slowly and he graced me with a sleepy smile as he reached for me. “Stalker,” he murmured. “Did you take pictures while I was sleeping, too?”
“Only a few for blackmail purposes later,” I answered, giggling as he burrowed his face against the crook of my neck. “You should be worried. I caught you drooling.”
“Ah, truly damaging, indeed.” He kissed the back of my neck, sending goose bumps rioting down my skin. “And what other trouble have you been up to while I slept? Does it include breakfast?”
I laughed. “Yes, I made a full-course meal while you drooled. Are you nuts? Eat a bowl of cereal.”
“Damn, the honeymoon is over,” he drawled, and I laughed harder until his hand started to travel down my belly, then my breath caught and I bit my lip, anticipating his touch. “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he admitted, his fingers lightly skimming the soft skin of my folds. “Are you a witch or something? I think you’ve dosed me with Love Potion No. 9.”
I stilled, turning to him. “I might ask the same of you,” I countered, dancing around the highly charged word floating between us. I’d fallen for him. I’d done the very thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t. But how did Nico feel about me?
