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"No," I say.
"No what?"
"No shower. I like smelling like us together. I'll shower in the morning."
He is already moving so he can pull the duvet back on the bed. "I know."
Chapter 16
New York City, New York
Mancini Mafia
GIULIA
Once we are situated under the covers, facing each other, his hand on my hip and mine on his chest, he says, "So, I will come with you to New York twice a year and you will not spend an entire month her in August."
"Las Vegas is so hot in August," I complain, but my heart is pounding with what all of this means.
"New York isn't exactly an icebox."
"Okay."
"Okay?" He looks at me like he's trying to figure out the catch.
"Yes. I don't like being away from you either, Raff. If you are willing to carve time in your schedule to come with me and Neri twice a year, I am willing to give up my month in August."
"And the other week?" he asks, referring to the fourth trip I usually take.
"I won't plan for a fourth week, but there may be times I have to come to New York without you."
"May be?" He presses.
"Not every year. Just sometimes. Like once Severu's wife has their first baby. I'll want to come out to visit and if it doesn't coincide with one of our joint trips, I'll still want to come."
My husband gives a grudging grunt of what I assume is agreement.
This moment feels profound, but I'm afraid to analyze too closely why that is.
"We should sleep." But the looks in his eyes makes it impossible for me to close my own.
They reflect a raw emotion I never thought I would see in my husband's gaze. Only…it isn't new, I realize. I've just never let myself see it before. I always dismiss this emotional intimacy as lust.
He doesn't say anything, but his gaze stays locked on mine, as if he is willing me to acknowledge that emotion.
"You don't love me," I blurt. But for the first time I doubt. Does he?
"Of course, I fucking love you, Giulia."
"You never said."
"Neither have you."
Is he saying he knows I love him? Maybe he's pretending to feel the same, so I'm not hurt. He's so protective, he would do something like that.
He sits up and pulls me with him until I'm sitting on his lap, my legs sideways over his thighs. "Whatever you are thinking, stop it."
"You can't tell me what to think," I assure him.
