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“How else am I supposed to shut my brain down, push the worries away?” She’d intended the question to sound like a joke, but it came out too sincere, too serious.
Elio never missed a beat. “I’m going to distract you.”
“How?”
He kissed her forehead. “It’s a surprise. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“In other words, you don’t know.”
He chuckled. “I have all night to figure out something that doesn’t require me using a mop.”
She sighed, surprisingly content—happy even—then rested her head back on his shoulder. The two of them lay there in the silence so long, she thought perhaps he’d fallen asleep.
“Elio,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Up until that twist ending, tonight was one of the best nights of my life.”
Elio cupped her cheek, lifting her face up to look at his. “Mine too.”
She read the sincerity, and it warmed her all the way through, touching the places that had been damp and cold since Sam told her he didn’t love her anymore.
“Good night, Elio,” she whispered.
“’Night, Gianna.”
Chapter Eight
Elio grinned as he opened his eyes, forced to admit this was probably the greatest way to start the day. Gianna had twisted away from him at some point in the night so that he was now spooning her, one of his arms wrapped around her, his hand cupping her breast.
He lay there for several minutes, listening to the soft, gentle sound of her breathing. He was just a few short weeks away from thirty-one and he’d never woken up with a woman in his arms. Now he was on day two of waking up with Gianna and—dammit—he was starting to realize he’d been depriving himself all these years.
His one-night stands had always been about sex. Sleeping never played a role in that. Paula had asked him to stay one night after they’d had sex, telling him it was too late to be on the road. He hadn’t even considered the invitation, getting dressed and using one of his countless standard excuses for leaving.
Paula had always taken his middle-of-the-night departures in stride, but that night, she’d pushed back, getting angry with him, proclaiming he was in no danger of catching feelings if he spent one damn night in her bed. She’d accompanied the complaint with her so-called “teasing” nickname for him—Tin Man.
When he’d reminded her that he wasn’t looking for more than sex—something she’d claimed repeatedly to be okay with—he suggested they call it quits. And that was when she had backpedaled fast, claiming she was tired and talking nonsense. She hadn’t asked him to stay the night again after that, but things still ended a few weeks later. Because Elio knew she wasn’t happy, just as he knew he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
Now Elio considered Gianna…wondering, had they indulged in a one-night stand, one where he could have gotten in his car and driven away, if he would have gone home last night.
Something told him even if there’d been no snow, nothing to stop him from doing his usual cut and run, he’d still be in bed with this woman wrapped up in his arms.
Gianna sighed in her sleep, snuggling closer. Her ass brushed his crotch. Mr. Morning Wood made a rapid appearance. The sun streamed brightly in the front window. They’d slept much later today than yesterday, which stood to reason, given their very late night.
Elio lay there, replaying the evening from beginning to end. Gianna had been a goddamn revelation—sexy innocence and a passionate wildcat, all rolled into one. There was a dull pain in his chest where she’d bitten him, and the scratches she’d left on his back still stung. The sex had been hot as fuck, and all he could think about was how much he wanted a repeat.
But he wasn’t sure Gianna would be willing.
Perhaps she would have agreed before the condom broke, but now, knowing her penchant for worrying, she likely wouldn’t want to tempt fate again.
His promise to her last night had been sincere. If she was pregnant, there was no way he wasn’t going to be right there with her, every step of the way.
Jesus.
If she’s pregnant.
Those words kept rolling around in his head, and while they were sticking, they weren’t producing the right response.
