Page 33 of The Taste of Deceit

A grin spreads slowly across his face.

“Baby Girl...” He squeezes my legs gently. “I think that’s a hell of an idea.”

I let out a small laugh.

“I do too.”

My smile fades just as quickly.

“The only problem is...” I shrug. “I’d have to quit the bar. Between classes and clinical hours, there’d be no way to keep working the schedule I have now.”

I look down at my hands.

“I wouldn’t be able to support myself.”

Luca is quiet for a second. Then he chuckles softly, so I look back up. He reaches over and brushes a curl away from my face.

“Baby Girl, I’ve got you.”

“Luca...”

“I’m serious.” His hand finds mine. “Go chase the life you’ve been putting off. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I stare at him, emotion climbing into my throat.

“You’d really do that?”

He gives me a look.

“Sarah.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “There isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

For the rest of the week, Luca is super busy. He doesn’t give me the details, but since he finally told me what he does for a living, he doesn’t try to hide the damage anymore. Two nights ago, his suit was dotted with blood spatter, his knuckles were split open, and he had a cut above his eyebrow. I didn’t ask where the blood came from or who it belonged to. I simply helped him out of his clothes, threw them in the wash, and rubbed antibiotic cream over his knuckles.

I called the bar on Tuesday to let them know I was resigning. Since Luca and I are leaving for Montana tomorrow for five days and heading to the Bahamas two weeks later, Rick laughed and told me not to bother coming back. Part of me was disappointed I wouldn’t get one last shift with everyone. I’d spent three years behind that bar. It had become home in a lot of ways. But another part of me couldn’t ignore the excitement bubbling beneath the sadness. I finally had the time to finish my USC application, pack for our trip, and deep clean the house before we left.

Michael has given Luca the next five days off to come with me. I’m grateful he can, but five days doesn’t feel like nearly enough. I haven’t seen my parents since Easter, and now it’s already the end of September. We have dinner with Luca’s mom, his sister, and practically the entire Amato family almost every Sunday. I know it’s different—they’re only fifteen minutes away—but I still miss my parents.

I want my parents to meet the Luca I’ve fallen in love with, not just the one they’ve heard about. I want Luca to experience the ranch, the mountains, and all the little places that still feel like home to me. Five days feels far too short.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” Luca says as he walks into the bedroom.

I jump hard enough to press a hand against my chest.

“Shit.”

He smiles.

“Do you ever announce your fucking presence?”

“Sarah,” he says, laughing. “I live here too.”

“Doesn’t mean I was expecting you to walk in here.”

I glance at him, and the smile he’s trying to hide tells me he’s absolutely making fun of me in his head.

Without saying another word, he picks up both suitcases.

“Come on,” he says. “The car’s here.”