Emilio’s eyes narrowed. “I know him.”
“It’s Cedar Falls. Of course you know him,” I teased.
He sat back down on his stool, crossed his arms, and looked at me as if he knew something I didn’t.
“Emilio Russo?” I tried, knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere. He called Pia and Mason stubborn, but it was a fact that, of all the store owners in town, no one dug in his heels more than this guy. He was easy-going in a lot of ways, but his ideas were his own and no one would tell him otherwise.
“Fine,” I said. “Be mysterious.”
“Tell Pia and Mason I saidbuongiorno.”
“Will do.” With narrowed eyes and a look that apparently did not move Emilio to confess what he’d written on that scrap of paper, I made my way from the door.
“Ciao,” I said, used to his standard greeting, and parting.
“Ciao,ciao,” he replied as I opened the door and left, heading down the hill.
Do you have a perfect man?
There really was no such thing, but as far as Parker went, he was pretty damn close. Sure, he had hangups because of his father. And if I’d given a list of qualities in a boyfriend, “extreme outdoorsman” would not have been one of them. My idea of camping started and stopped at making s’mores by the fire, followed by running water to take a shower and a bed with a big fluffy pillow. But he was also kind, thoughtful, beyond good-looking… and then there was the whole bedroom skill-set thing. I literally could not get Sunday night out of my head, and probably never would for the rest of my life.
And yet I’d thought Makis was pretty darn awesome until he’d torn my heart into a million pieces. But I wouldn’t dwell on that. I resolved to put him firmly in the past, and that was what I would do.
I knocked at the door of the “house” side of Heritage Hill, the inn and original structure attached but completely separate from the addition where the boys, and Pia, lived, and it was less than thirty seconds when the door opened.
“Hey, Delaney. For not seeing you,” Beck said, opening the door wide, “almost ever, this is like the third time in a week. Come on in.”
“I hope you’re not complaining,” I said, heading inside. The smell of tacos made my mouth water. “No work tonight?”
“Not at all. Off,” he said. “Working two doubles in the next three days.”
“Ouch. I know how that feels.”
We walked toward the kitchen. Even though this part of the inn was an add-on, it had the same feel as the original. Heritage Hill was more like a mini castle than it was a house, and since Mason’s dad passed and he and the guys had been renovating it, the place looked amazing, a combination of grandiosity that was the manor house but with modern B&B vibes.
“There’s my girl,” Pia said when we walked in.
Unfortunately, Parker was nowhere to be found.
He’d first mentioned Taco Tuesday last night, and when I texted Pia to tell her, she had been thrilled that I would be coming.
“This is for you,” I said, handing her the wine.
“Delaney Montana Thorton. You did not have to bring this. You’re family here.”
“Montana?”
The voice went right through me, giving me a tingling sensation from my shoulders down to my toes. If I closed my eyes, I could see him positioned above me, Parker’s tone low and intimate. Just like that.
Turning, I wondered what I’d been thinking when we’d had lunch together. Did I really believe it was possible to resist him?
A moss-green long-sleeve shirt, cuffs rolled to his elbows, made his eyes look more green than hazel. His hair still damp, Parker was… perfect.
There is no such thing as a perfect man.
Except the evidence standing in front of me suggested otherwise.
“My parents conceived me on a hunting trip to Montana. Mom wasn’t supposed to go but Dad’s friend canceled last minute.”
