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I feel nervous about meeting anyone, especially after what we just did in the balloon. I’m sure my skin is a nice shade of flush-fucked-red. “If you need to speak with a client, I can wait in the car.”
“We aren’t meeting anyone. The building is empty.” He grips my wrist and brings my hand to his erection. “We’re going inside so you can deal with this.” His words come out in a painful growl.
After taking care of Tug at the office, we end up at his loft and engage in a marathon of sex. His stamina is astounding. I’m starting to wonder if he’s human, or derived from some divine force in the universe. Only a man touched by the gods can both look and perform as he does.
I’m suddenly too tired to tell him everything I wanted to about my past. I decide it’s better to wait until the morning when I’m coherent. As I lie next to him, I’m so conflicted. I think about Queen Crazy threatening to go to the press. They would print my name, which would not only destroy Tug’s career, but insure that Eduardo was able to find me. Javier’s father is a dangerous man. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to Tug because of me. I know the press will photograph us eventually.
We don’t spend a lot of time in San Diego outside of Tug’s loft. I’ve been careful and have tried to hide my face the couple of times a photographer approached us. Tug usually ignores their pleas for my name.
My only hope is dealing with my problems before Eduardo finds me. I should pick up more shifts at work. Even then, it will take years to raise the money I need. I’m walking a very dangerous tightrope, and sooner or later, I’m going to fall. Maybe I can convince Tug to move to Mexico with us. Still unsure of what to do, I finally drift asleep.
The following morning, Tug’s in the kitchen drinking coffee. His suit is always intimidating, especially this morning. He throws me an adorable smile, and my will to be truthful with him disappears. I have to find a way to free myself from Eduardo first. I can’t risk anything happening to Tug.
“Good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep well?”
I say, “Yes.” But honestly, I hardly slept at all.
“I love waking up next to you.”
“You do?”
His smile reaches his eyes. Happiness shines from the amber rings around his pupils. “I want to wake up to you every morning.”
My mouth opens, and I stare at him for several seconds in stunned silence.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I got a bit distracted last night, and we didn’t get a chance to talk, but I’ve wanted to say something for a while now.”
I shake my head furiously, uncertainty snaking its way into my thoughts. “Tug … my papa, Javier … it’s a lot.”
He grabs my arms. “I want all of it. Do you know why?”
I stare at him blankly.
“Because I love you, Maria. I want you to move in with me. You, Franco, and Javier. I want us to be a family.”
I shake my head again, trying to clear the fog. I must still be asleep. I have to be dreaming. He just said he loved me. He loves me. I love him, too, and I want to tell him, but the worries in my mind outweigh my love.
“Here?” I ask, glancing around his loft. There’s plenty of room, but it’s in the States.
“Here, or we can buy a house in the suburbs.” His smile is so hopeful I want to cry. “Whatever you want.”
Suddenly everything between us feels like it’s happening too fast. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. Moving in together is a big commitment.”
And living in the States is out of the question until I deal with my past.
“I’m ready for this, but take as long as you need. My love is endless.”
We exit Tug’s building; my heart is still racing. Moving in with Tug feels like a risk worth taking, and I’m just about to turn around and tell him I’m ready to take the jump when clicking invades my ears. Voices shout at Tug, asking him who I am and if we’re serious. To my horror, Tug tells them my name and professes his love for me. I panic and pull him back into the building. He follows me to the elevator and back to his loft. I’m freaking out, pacing the floor frantically, my hands flying through the air as I mumble to myself.
Tug rests against the back of the couch, watching me for several minutes before he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Those pictures are going to hit the Internet any second. You told them my name. They know who I am.”
He stands tall and smiles. I know he thinks the photos and revealing who I am aren’t a big deal. But it’s life-altering.
“So what? I told them your name because I don’t care if they know who you are.”
