“She’s worth it.”
“Speaking of worth it,” Lucio began, shifting the focus, “I might have pissed Marina off by accident, and the end result is a call from the bank.”
“What did you do?”
He hesitated, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face. “So, you know how she’s been raving about that new interior design for the living room?”
“Yeah?”
“I accidentally told her it sounded ‘over-the-top.’”
I burst into laughter. “That’s like telling a chef their food is bland,idiota.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It slipped out. She looked at me like I had grown a second head.”
“Good luck with that,” I teased, still chuckling. “But what’s this about a call from the bank?”
“They said I need to approve two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Two hundred grand? What did she buy?” I asked, already bracing myself for the answer.
“She made a down payment on a Jeep,” he admitted, his tone filled with a mix of pride and disbelief. “I don’t mind because she’s my wife. I was just shocked.”
I shook my head in amazement, though he couldn’t see me. “I can’t wait to get married then, that sounds fun.”
“It has its perks.”
“I bet it does, Luci.”
Nina
Running on two hours of sleep, I slammed the door to my boutique and hurried to my office, avoiding everyone. I should’ve known two hours wouldn’t cut it.
This week, my head was spinning in all the right ways. The Eminence partnership was everywhere, and everything was coming together—not without hitches, but that was expected. I couldn’t wait for what was ahead. But last night? When he showed up at my door, it threw me completely off my axis.
Gosh. I’ve seen him in so many settings, but I couldn’t explain the sights the other night.
I could see the faint tremble in his hands, gripping the peonies so tightly as if they were his lifeline. The vulnerability in his eyes was striking, a raw and unguarded look I had never seen before. Those grayish-blue eyes, which once seemed impenetrable, now glistened with unspoken fears and deep-seated sorrow.
I plopped down on my lounge sofa and pulled the note from my purse.
“These flowers pale in comparison to your beauty, but I hope they bring a smile to your face.”
His cell number was scribbled underneath. My fingers trembled as I held it, wanting to discard it but unable to bring myself to do so.
I was torn. Every part of me wanted to believe things could be different, that we could have a fresh start. But the scars of the past loomed large, a constant reminder of the cost of repeating old patterns. I couldn’t risk letting him in only for him to leave again—that fear kept me awake at night.
Falling in love with Ronan Romano again was terrifying. His love had been the most powerful force I’d ever felt, sweeping me off my feet and consuming my heart, but it was also the most destructive, leaving me broken when it ended.
My thoughts wandered to a time when everything felt perfect.
I could almost feel the softness of the bed beneath us, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. I was sprawled out, sketchpad in hand, pencil dancing across the paper as inspiration flowed. Ronan lay beside me, watching with a mix of amusement and adoration in his eyes.
“You know, you make a pretty good human pin cushion,” I teased, sticking another needle into the collar of his shirt. He chuckled, his deep, rich laughter filling the room and wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
“If it means I get to be close to you, I’ll be the best pin cushion you’ve ever had,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb my work, and watched as I meticulously placed pins and needles along the fabric of his shirt.
I glanced up at him, catching the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and affection. “Hold still,” I chided gently, “I’m almost done.”
