Page 106 of Bloom

“Yes, actually. I’m furious. I wanted the cowboy for myself.”

I huff a laugh before sobering. “I mean about Roberto.”

“Why would I be mad about that? You didn’t like him. That’s okay. I only wanted you to try, Lina.”

I’m not sure I did, but I’m not going to argue the matter—I’m not given the chance to. “Besides,” Aldo continues. “I like the big guy. Is he there now?Dai, let me talk to him.”

I snort as I switch to speakerphone and toss my phone on the dashboard, freeing up my hands to quickly pull my hair back in a braid. “No, he’s not here.”

“He’s not going camping with you?”

“Nope.”

I considered asking him.Agonizedis perhaps a better word for it. But in the end, I couldn’t think of a casual way to invite a guy to go camping in a secluded location with no one but me for company for an entire weekend, so I decided against it. Besides, I could use some alone time—Iwantsome alone time.

Or at least, I’ve almost convinced myself that I do.

Aldo makes a noise like he has a whole lot of opinions about that, but luckily for me, he doesn’t voice any of them. “You’re still coming over on Sunday, yes? I’m making you a cake.”

My stomach twists, but I smile. “You mean Davide is making me a cake.”

“My husband and I are a unit, Lina,” Aldo insists dramatically, making me laugh. “Is Lux coming?”

“Uh, no.” I didn’t ask. We left things a little weird the other day, and I might be licking my wounds just a little; I know Luxdoesn’thaveto tell me anything, but it stung to hear how much she didn’t want to. And anyway, I’m perfectly fine with a low-key birthday celebration, just me and the Bianchis. I stopped making a big fuss years ago. There’s no need to start up again now.

“And the big guy? Is he coming?”

Consideringthe big guydoesn’t even know it’s my birthday? “No. And stop calling him that.”

“Why? It’s very accurate.” Aldo pauses, and the silence screams trouble. “Unless it isn’t.”

Briefly closing my eyes, I silently wish for the fortitude to survive this conversation—even I can tell where it’s going.

“Itis, isn’t it? He has a—”

“Aldo.” Ducking inside my truck, I grab a baseball cap with one hand, my phone with the other. “I’m hanging up now.”

An affronted whine echoes through the early morning air. “Oh, come on.”

“Bye. See you on Sunday.”

Despite his indignant screech of my name, I hang up. Shaking my head and chuckling beneath my breath, I plug my phone into the aux cord, my hiking playlist already loaded. Donning the cap, I start towards the truck bed again so I double check I have everything I need, but I abruptly come up short.

Cheeks immediately flushing red, I wince. “How long have you been standing there?”

Hunter’s smirk says it all, even if his mouth insists, “Not long.”

I groan and hide my face in my hands.

Heavy footsteps thump against the pavement before fingers pluck the hat off my head and chuckling lips graze my forehead. “Mornin’, honey.”

As a hand drifts to my lower back and urges me into a warm embrace, I sigh. I drop my hands to his waist, then my head to his sternum. “Morning.”

“Going somewhere?”

“The Lakes Trail. I was gonna camp for a couple nights.” A rumbling grunt erring on the side of unimpressed makes me pull away with a frown. When I find his expression normal, affronted, I chalk it down to my imagination—or wishful thinking. “What’re you doing here?”

“Had some errands to run,” he takes a second too long to answer, making me wonder if it’s the truth, but promptly distracts me. “Brought you breakfast.”

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