Page 66 of Hopeless Romantic
“That sounds like heaven.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I love Rome. I love time with my family and friends, and knowing if something happens, I’m here to take care of them,” he said. “But sometimes I need the quiet. To process or reflect. It’s difficult for me to do that when my world’s so loud and demanding.”
“When was the last time you went sailing?”
“For more than a long weekend?” He chuckled. “How long have you lived in Rome?”
She shifted to rest her cheek on his chest, looking up at him. “That long?”
“Longer.” He sounded tired, as if he were emotionally running on empty. “Which is why I come up here when I can.”
“I thought you came up here to make out.”
“Beck, the only person I’ve ever brought here is Michelle.” He slid his hand along her back and over her nape to play with her hair. “And now you.”
Beckett didn’t know why she had such a hard time believing that. Maybe because it didn’t fit the play-it-fast-and-loose ladies’ man she’d made Levi out to be. Then again, nothing she’d learned about him over the past few weeks had supported that image.
“I’m not saying I didn’t spend time at the Cliffs,” he joked. “But after my dad passed, this was the only place I could come to be alone and think. And I came here every chance I got. I’d bring a six-pack, a sleeping bag, and a journal. Then I’d sit on the tailgate and list all the things I was going to do once Mom and Michelle were settled.”
“Like a bucket list?”
“Are you a fellow bucket lister, Beck?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Although I’m better at making lists than actually checking anything off.”
“I’m not much better. I was getting ready to take the trip my dad and I planned when Paisley was born.” He smiled. “That girl inspired a list all her own. And I have checked off nearly every milestone in that journal.”
She shifted to rest her cheek on his chest. “What’s left to check off?”
“On my Paisley List?” He considered that for a moment. “Walk her down the aisle, keep her away from boys until she’s thirty, teach her how to drive before I go completely gray.” He sobered. “Right now, my focus is on helping her to handle Michelle’s death. She puts on a brave face, but I know she’s shattered inside. Ditto my mom.”
“Is that why you changed your plans around? So Paisley’s time in Europe with Annie will coincide with your trip?” It didn’t take a mathematician to explain why the countdown clock above his bar had a tendency to jump ahead.
“It’s not that I think Gray couldn’t handle anything that might come up, but—”
She looked up at him through her lashes. “But you don’t think Gray can handle whatever might come up the way you can.”
“I must come off as an overprotective parent with a God complex.” Chagrin lit his cheeks. “I promise you, out of the three dads, I’m the only one who didn’t get a Proud Helicopter Papa ball cap for Christmas.”
“I didn’t imagine you would. And for the record, you come off as a devoted and loving uncle.” She lifted her head slightly. “I’m not sure how valid my opinion is, since I have the home number of every one of Thomas’s teachers, and I still make my dad bag lunches when he goes to Boston for work.”
“I take my mom to all her doctors’ appointments because she’s afraid of hospitals,” he said, his hand abandoning the nape of her neck. “I’ve also been known to drive across town just to start her fire when it snows.”
“If I was sent home with a container full of that flaky, buttery, phyllo dough with custard dessert, I’d start her fire every night.”
“It’s called galaktoboureko, and if you play your cards right, I’ll send you home with the rest.”
Glancing at the stars overhead, Beckett closed her eyes and made a wish that one day she could play cards at the same level as Levi. His game was so flawless, she almost believed that he wasn’t playing a game at all.
“How long will you be gone?” It was more a reminder for herself than a question.
“Six months is the plan.”
Those words functioned as the wakeup call she desperately needed. He might find her interesting now but, while Beckett led an unusual existence, his interest in her would quickly wane. That was assuming they even made it to summer.
“I’ll miss the beginning of her senior year,” he continued. “But be back for the big stuff.”
“College trips, prom, graduation. All so exciting.” And all things she wished for Thomas’s future. But those milestones wouldn’t have the same trajectory as Paisley’s or her classmates’. While Thomas might be able to live on his own one day, that day was a long way off.
