Page 72 of XOXO, Valentina

Joey untangled my fingers and gripped my hands in his. “Why do you think I moved to America?” he asked. “I wanted my own life. I love my family, but I need to breathe.”

The air between us pulsed with emotion. I let out a shaky breath. I’d never told anyone how I felt. Although I wished with all my heart that my husband hadn’t died, sometimes I was thankful I’d never had to compromise with anyone when it came to raising Shane. I’d seen marriages rip apart because the couple couldn’t figure out how to parent together. Montel and I never had to test our relationship over a disagreement on curfews or punishments. We never had to argue or take a stand.

My throat tightened with emotion. “I’m a horrible person, Joey. The thoughts I have about Montel…” I sucked in a breath, disgusted with myself.

Joey slid across the bench seat so that our knees bumped, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

I leaned into his touch. “When he died…” I shook my head, forcing myself to form the words. “When he died, I was heartbroken.” My gaze dropped to my lap. I couldn’t look at Joey as I admitted my deepest secret. “But part of me was glad that we’d never had to struggle. It was easier to remember my marriage as perfect.”

Joey gripped my chin and raised my face until I met his eyes. “Nothing can compare to your perfect marriage, so why try to love again?”

I blinked back tears. “It’s easier this way.”

He cradled my cheek. “It’s easier not to love.” His voice cracked. “To be alone or to fill your nights with meaningless flings. It’s the same thing, you know?” He swept his thumb across my cheek, smearing the tear that had leaked from the corner of my eye. “Even good people have bad thoughts. It’s how we act that matters; you see? How we treat people.” He moved closer, his eyes searching mine. “You are not perfect.” He cocked his head to the side and his eyes twinkled. “You snore for one. And you’re not so great at yoga.”

I smacked him on the chest and shifted closer to him, craving the feel of his smiling mouth against mine. Desire rose, and the cab of the truck sizzled with electricity. Joey’s eyes blazed, and his hand shifted to cup the back of my neck.

Then we were kissing, and all my dark thoughts were filled with light. His tongue touched mine. His taste filled my mouth. The jagged edges of my splintered heart softened.

When we broke apart, Joey pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to be perfect,” he said.

My heart nearly exploded. For the past month, I’d been telling myself it was just sex between us. Lots and lots of exceptionally good sex. But now I wasn’t so sure.

32

Chapter 29

Gabi

“You ready to eat the best food of your life?” Joey tucked my hand in his as we joined the steady flow of foot traffic on the crowded sidewalk. We walked by restaurants, bars, and brightly lit shops, and it dawned on me that there weren’t any residential buildings in sight.

“Wait.” I slowed my steps as we passed by the long line at the restaurant I’d noticed earlier. “I thought we were going to your family’s for dinner.”

“We are.” He stopped and pointed up at the sign above the restaurant door.Angela’s.

My jaw dropped. “Your family has a restaurant?”

He nodded and opened the door for me, gesturing me inside. The people in line gave us dirty looks as we stepped past them while they waited. We went inside the restaurant, and it was like being enfolded into a warm embrace. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices wafted into the candle-lit lobby.

“Did I forget to tell you we have a restaurant?” Joey asked, feigning innocence with his lifted brow.

“You know you did.” I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him a little shove. “Why didn’t you say?”

“I was trying to impress you.” He led me through the crowded lobby to the hostess stand. “Did it work?”

I glanced past the hostess into the main dining room, where uniformed servers weaved between tables draped in elegant, white cloths. From what I could see and smell, it was obviousAngela’swas a step above the restaurants we’d eaten at so far during my visit to Costa Rica.

This was a destination, not a meal. It probably took hours to get a table. Joey waved at the hostess, and she stopped what she was doing and escorted us to a corner booth where we slid into same side of the bench.

“Gracias,” Joey said when she handed us two menus.

He didn’t have to try to impress me, but it was working.

His leg nudged mine under the table, and chills raced down my spine.

“Is this why you are such a fabulous cook?” I asked, leaning into him.

He laughed and dipped his head to brush his lips across my cheek. “I’ve never made you anything but breakfast.” His mouth trailed to my ear. “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

---