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Her back arched and her body trembled as her orgasm rushed through her, filling up every empty, dark corner of her soul, flooding it with light and warmth…and him.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured.
She said the words back, though three different ones drifted through her head.
I love you, Gianna whispered to him in her mind.
She knew better than to say those words aloud. Not because they didn’t belong here but because this wasn’t the time, and that sentiment wasn’t what he wanted from her.
So for now, she would take what he offered—his kind words, kisses, hugs—wrap herself up in the amazing emotions, and then…well…
Then she’d take a page from his book.
She’d figure out what came next…
Later.
Chapter Eleven
Elio breathed in a deep breath, soaking up Gianna’s citrusy scent, before opening his eyes. They’d slept in late. Again. It was going to take him a day or two to sort out his sleep patterns once he returned to Baltimore.
It was Friday, and most likely their last day together in the cabin. The weather forecast was calling for warmer temperatures today, which would accelerate the melting enough that the two of them could get their cars out. They only had to drive four miles of unpaved dirt lane before they hit the plowed roads.
Elio hadn’t been completely honest with her when he told her he had zero plans for his future because he did have a ghost of an idea, but it was so vague it was practically transparent.
He’d gotten into a discussion with Gio and Rafe at the holiday party, interested in learning more about their inn. Elio thought he might like to invest in a business after retiring from the game, maybe a restaurant or even an ice rink, and he’d picked their brains about their process and the hurdles they’d encountered.
Of course, they hadn’t exactly talked him into pursuing the idea. It became apparent very quickly they were both feeling stretched too thin, and they admitted they’d jumped into the project too soon. Rafe had inherited several businesses from his grandfather last summer, and he was still working to learn the ins and outs of those.
Gio, ever the carpenter, had loved the idea of renovating the mansion, but he was no fan of the business end of things, leaving too much to Rafe, who was quite simply overwhelmed.
Not that Gio wasn’t the same. He confessed he felt like he was burning the candle at both ends, keeping up with his full-time job with Moretti Brothers—something made harder now that Joey was off filming ManPower—and the renovations.
The conversation had left Elio thinking that perhaps the investment idea would be more hassle than it was worth. Besides, he didn’t have a clue what kind of business he even wanted to invest in.
Gianna lay on her side, facing him, though she was still sound asleep. Elio decided there was no better way to ring in the New Year than waking up next to her. He took a few minutes to study her face. He was amazed when he recalled his first impression of her, how he’d thought her wholesome. Jesus, he’d actually used that word to describe her, picking it over the obvious one.
Because while she was wholesome, she was so much more than that. Nothing short of gorgeous. With her wavy blonde hair, the cute little upturn of her nose, the delicate slope of her eyes, framed with long, thick lashes. Her complexion was pale, which only served to highlight her rosy cheeks. Her eyes were the lightest blue he’d ever seen, the color reminding him of glaciers he’d seen once in Alaska.
But it wasn’t her appearance that had turned his head this week.
It was her.
He considered her childhood, with her absent dad, shitty mom, and overworked grandmother. How she had come from all of that with her good heart and sense of humor intact astounded him.
He’d taken his upbringing for granted, never having to worry about money. God only knew how much money his parents had invested in his interest in hockey. It wasn’t a cheap sport.
He had tried to “pay them back” for all of that, now that he made very—very—good money, through expensive gifts and by footing the bill for their dream trip to the Bahamas a few years earlier.
But as a kid, he’d never spared a thought when it came to paying bills, and it would never have occurred to him to consider butter an extravagance the way Gianna did.
“You’re watching me sleep,” she said huskily, her dark lashes fluttering, then rising slowly.
“Creeping you out?” he joked.
She shook her head, still looking at him with drowsy eyes.
“Happy New Year, Freckles,” he said.
