Page 81 of Veiled Amor

She was turning into a wife withnobenefits.

And it fucking sucked.

Schooling her face, so she didn’t show signs of being so pissed off with him, she shook her head and started walking across the family room. “No, thanks, I think I’ll take a bath and head to bed.”

“You sure? I can make you those eggs you like.”

She’d kill for his Spanish eggs, but her throat wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite. Crisis averted; she was sure he’d come through the door like a horny tornado and pick up where they left off. And because she was so unsure of how to approach Capone and their weird feelings, she let him lead, and apparently he wanted food and not her body.

Cool. Great. Wonderful.

Lucia and her lust would go to bed alone.

Almost to her bedroom, “hey, Lucia?”

She turned to find him at the hallway entrance, watching her with his beautiful eyes.

Her wish sometimes, was she didn’t love this man. That she could fall in love with anyone else less complicated and end their painful situation, but her pride wanted him to want her as she was, not because there were no obstacles in the way.

Maybe it made her wrong.

She’d never bought into the centuries-old advice of only being with someone who loved you more. Lucia wanted to love him with every fiber of her being, even if he didn’t love her back in the same way. As long as he loved her a little, she would be happy.

This uncertainty was torture.

He repeated. “You okay,nena? I know this shit ruined our night.”

No, you ruined it by not mauling me on the fucking floor the moment you were back.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eyes narrowed. “That’s what I’m asking.”

She smiled, opening her bedroom door, picturing herself pulling out his long eyelashes one at a time. “Goodnight, Gi.”

The apartment stayed quiet.

There were no food smells or the sound from the TV, and when she was tired of tossing and turning, she flung herself out of bed and tiptoed into the hallway. Lucia considered going out onto the expansive balcony, but in only sleep shorts and a tank top, she’d freeze. It reminded her of the balcony from the movie Pretty Woman; only it didn’t have a high wall. Instead, Capone’s balcony was glass and steel with a large grill down one end. Another giant contraption next to it, which looked like a smoker. Fancy.

She’d kill to watch him out there grilling meats and being manly holding tongs while she lounged in a chair holding a summer cocktail.

Would she still be here in the summer months?

She’d wanted freedom.

Now Lucia wanted a life with him, but still unsure how to make it happen.

“What are you doing?” She heard and nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Oh, my god,” she exclaimed, whirling around to see Capone bracketing in the entryway in only a pair of boxer-briefs, “you scared the bejesus out of me. I think my soul left my body for a second.”

He approached with silent steps until he was close enough she felt the warmth from his bare skin. And her sulking hormones from earlier came online again like sluts.

She took a breath and shivered. Something he noticed when he frowned and came nearer. It was crazy to think she could feel his heart beating through his chest. Maybe it was all the hoping she did, hoping it was hers one day, hoping he would want hers to keep.

Nothing good came from brooding in the middle of the night, this much she knew.

He looked concerned as he touched the top of her arm, rubbed a little. “I heard you pacing out here, couldn’t sleep?”

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