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“If we don't stop, I'm not going to give a fuck about the gnocchi.”

I laugh.

“And I worked very hard on that gnocchi.”

“Exactly why I’m stopping, Sweet.”

He kisses the tip of my nose.

“So I'm showing tremendous restraint.”

“My hero.”

“Damn right.”

I roll my eyes, but I'm still smiling when he stands and moves to reclaim his seat across from me.

And when his hand settles beside mine on the table, I don't move away.

Our pinkies brush.

The red-edged golden sparks begin dancing between our fingers again. This time, I don't question them. I don't pull away. I don't tell myself they aren't real.

This time, I just let them be.

Chapter 25

Damian

After dinner, Belinda pours us each another glass of wine.

I should probably stop watching her. I don't.

I can't.

She's moving around her kitchen like I'm supposed to be here, gathering our plates, brushing past my chair, curls bouncing against her shoulders as she reaches into the refrigerator.

Every accidental touch registers.

Her hip brushes my arm. Her fingers skim mine when I try to take a plate from her. Each time, red-edged golden sparks flicker between us.

And each time, Belinda notices.

So do I.

The difference is, she smiles now.

Fuck.

That smile is going to kill me faster than my curse ever could.

I confessed everything tonight.

The curse. The reason I pushed her away. How close I'd been to losing myself. The claiming bite. My feelings.

I love you.

I've never said those words to a woman before. Never wanted to.