Page 28 of The Sweet Life

Brenda and Renata dropped the boxes and rushed to her side at the same time Sage collapsed in his arms.

Nina screamed at the security guard heading their way, “Call nine one one!”

Chapter Ten

This is a really bad idea,” Gia told herself as she stood outside the Monroes’ side door, balancing a care package on one arm while holding a container of chicken soup in her other hand. It made knocking on the door precarious, almost as precarious as visiting Flynn at his dad’s house.

She knocked anyway. She missed Flynn. She hadn’t seen him in four days, unless she counted their FaceTime calls. It was ridiculous that she missed him. It wasn’t like they’d been dating for that long. Two weeks, and they’d gone out together six of the fourteen days.

Geesh, next she knew, she’d be counting the hours. Her brain flashed the number of hours they’d been apart, and she shut it out of her mind with a sigh. It didn’t matter. The evidence was there for anyone to see if they bothered looking hard enough. She was a fifty-five-year-old desperate divorcée. At least that’s how she assumed it would look to everyone, including Flynn. She turned and headed for her car, wincing when she heard the side door creak open.

“Hey, where are you going?”

That voice, she thought as she turned around.That face. Of course she’d be stupid over this man. He was beautiful, and not just on the outside, on the inside too, which made it so much worse.

“I brought you and your dad some chicken soup, and I picked up a few things I thought you might need from the drugstore.” She held them out to him. She’d also changed three times before deciding what to wear, only to end up choosing an outfit that didn’t look like she was trying too hard.

She should have tried harder, she decided, glancing at the white sneakers tied with chartreuse laces that she’d paired with a denim skirt and a white cotton shirt she wore tied at the waist. Flynn didn’t seem to care what she had on, though. His gaze hadn’t strayed from her face.

The man had gorgeous eyes. The azure cotton shirt he wore untucked over his tan cargo shorts highlighting just how blue they were.

She shook her head at herself. Her mother would say she was smitten, and she’d be right. Thinking back, Gia realized she’d probably been smitten with Flynn Monroe for the past six months. They just hadn’t had this much one-on-one time together. He was an architect of some renown and owned his own design consultancy firm, which took him all over the world. If they continued the way they were going, she didn’t want to think what it would be like when he was gone months at a time. It had been hard enough not seeing him for the past four days.

Amos had come down with the flu. Flynn hadn’t felt comfortable leaving him on his own. He’d invited her over, of course. But hanging out at his place with his dad didn’t matchher idea of keeping their relationship secret. Flynn didn’t feel the same and hadn’t been happy about her moratorium on daytime dating. Then again, he hadn’t been happy she’d only date him secretly.

“Tell me the truth,” he said as he walked to her. Instead of taking the proffered container of soup and care package, he put his hands on her hips. “You were going to take off without seeing me, weren’t you?”

“I was thinking about it,” she admitted, glancing down the driveway while trying to ignore the feel of his warm hands on her.

“No one can see us, Gia,” he said, drawing her closer.

“Flynn,” she protested even as she held the container of soup and the care package out from her body to accommodate his tall, rangy frame.

He bent his head. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her lips before deepening his kiss.

It took every ounce of self-control for her to pull back, breaking the kiss. “Someone will see us.”

“And?”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “I know you don’t care, Flynn, but I do.” She could tell he was disappointed by her answer and went up on her toes, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Good.” He stepped back, taking the container of soup and care package from her. “You can rescue me from another game of chess.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your game with your dad. Maybe I should just—”

“Trust me, my dad has had four uninterrupted days withme. He’ll be just as happy to see you as I am.” He smiled. “Maybe not quite as happy as I am.” He put the care package on top of the soup container and opened the door, leaning back against it to make room for her to get by.

She looked around as she walked into the kitchen, pressing her lips together to hold back a laugh. With its avocado-green-wallpapered walls and harvest-gold appliances, it was like she’d stepped into the 1970s. “Have you and your dad had lunch?” she asked when he deposited the containers on the counter.

Flynn’s arms came around her waist from behind, and he nudged her hair over her shoulder with his chin, pressing his lips to the side of her neck before bringing his mouth to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Are you laughing at my father’s slightly outdated kitchen?”

“No, and you need to stop doing that,” she said, her breathy voice giving her away.

“Are you sure you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low and deep as he moved his hands slowly from her waist, mapping her body with the tips of his fingers.

She arched her back, needy for more of his touch. “Flynn.”

He turned her around, lifting her easily into his arms. “Let me show you the project I’ve been working on,” he murmured, moving to the other side of the kitchen. He opened a pantry door and then walked inside, closing the door behind them, shutting them in the dark.

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