Page 78 of Tinsel in Telluride

It’s both exciting and terrifying.

It’s late when Luca reaches over and intertwines his fingers with mine, sending my heart into a thunderous fit in my chest.

“I really want to kiss you again,” he admits, his gaze falling to my lips.

I counter with a flirtatious smile. “I really want to do more than kiss you.”

“Fuck,” he groans, covering his eyes with his free hand. “I want that too.”

It sounds like there’s a follow-up.A “but” that is going to ruin this peaceful moment.

“But before I can do all the things I want with you tonight”—he lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles—“I need to tell you everything.”

His eyes meet mine and I’m not surprised to see the vulnerability in his blue depths. Luca is nothing if not thorough. He and his best friends might be complete frat boys, but they are honest in a way that is undeniably noble. You want to hate them for it, but you can’t.

“Okay.” I nod, leaning back on the barstool.

He needs this.

We need this.

I slide our hands to my lap, cupping my free hand over them. “Tell me your story.”

Luca inhales a steadying breath, and I give a reassuring squeeze before he starts.

“Family has always been the most important thing to me. Probably because mine was such a damn farce.”

“The Donatis? A farce?” I feign disbelief, lifting my free hand to clutch my imaginary pearls. “I don’t believe it.”

“I know. Who would have thought? But it’s true, the golden family of Shady Grove is anything but. Especially back when your family came to town.”

I still in confusion. “Mine?”

His mouth twitches and I’d bet money he’s biting his cheek. “Your dad challenged the way things were done in town. He might not have been in the hotel business like the Donatis, but he was new money coming into a well-oiled machine he knew nothing about. Everyone loved him, and therefore everyone loved you and your mom too.”

“You didn’t,” I sneer, remembering the way he used to scrunch up his nose in disgust.

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Little Thief.”

“I hate that you call me that still.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and no.” I pause, trying to find the right explanation. “While it’s incredibly sexy when we’ve lost our minds and our clothes, it reminds me of what you did, and I’m not sure that’s what I want to remember now.”

He huffs a laugh, but I don’t follow what's so funny. “Do you want to know why I call you that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Becauseyouframed me for stealing your mother’s locket.”

“I did.” He nods, wearing a cheshire grin. “But that’s not why I call you that.”

My eyes flash with confusion. “Then why?”

“Because while you may not have stolen the locket, you stole a part of me when you came to town.”

“What?” My voice is a broken whisper.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

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