Page 60 of Privilege

Diego pumped a small fist in the air, and then ran forward to jump over that crack, too. This game of his continued on until the bus stop was in sight, and he decided that using the benches as a jungle gym would be more fun.

Renzo only smiled.

What else could he do?

Better for the kid to get his energy out now rather than later. Or, that was Renzo’s opinion, anyway.

“You’re quiet,” Lucia noted.

He glanced down at her. She just beamed back up at him as if to deny what she said wasn’t the truth. But it was true—he had been quiet ever since they left the art school’s gallery, and said goodbye to Rose on the street in front of her apartment.

“Thinking,” Renzo admitted.

“Do you do that often?”

He didn’t miss the teasing note in her tone at all.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Lucia glanced down at the sidewalk, saying, “You know, I was just joking about what I said, right? At the gallery with your sister, I mean. There doesn’t have to be any titles on whatever this is, Ren.”

Yeah, he figured that out.

Didn’t change the way his mind kept running over it, though.

Renzo brushed his hand along Lucia’s lower back as they closed in on the bus stop, and their walk slowed. Without a word, he found her hand with his own, and wove their fingers together tightly enough that he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

No, he didn’t like titles.

He wasn’t even sure what this was.

He still liked it.

That was going to have to be enough.

Standing next to the small shelter the bus stop provided, Renzo tugged Lucia into his chest, wrapped his arms around her neck, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Diego was otherwise occupied with seeing if he could manage to jump from one bench to another, so he didn’t seem to be paying them any attention.

Tipping her head back so those waves of her soft hair fell down around her shoulders, hazel eyes glittered up as they met his. “What was that for?”

Renzo shrugged. “Felt like doing it.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t overthink it, or anything.”

Lucia grinned. “I won’t. You’re kind of amazing, you know that, right?”

Renzo blinked.

What?

“How am I—”

“You just are,” she interjected softly, her hand coming up so that her fingertips could brush along the seam of his lips with a gentle touch that had sparks flying over his nerves. How could a touch do that? He wasn’t sure, but he liked it. “You’re always thinking about them, aren’t you? Diego, and Rose. You get up every day for them, and what they need.”

“Someone has to do it.”

“And they love you for it.”