Page 60 of Love Lessons
The question startles me, and I practically trip on the sandal I’m putting back on. “I don’t have two men,” I point out. “There’s the one who dumped me and the one who is only after a few nights of fun. Hell—he might not even wantthat.” It’s occurred to me that a one-and-done kind of guy might avoid me for the rest of the trip.
And won’t that be awkward.
“Answer the question,” Charli says from another stall. “From where we sit, sex with professional athletes is always the way to go.”
“Mmm,” I say, trying not to sound dreamy. “I won’t kiss and tell. They’re very different men. And sex isn’t everything.”
Charli and Heidi Jo both laugh uproariously.
TWENTY
I Made It Weird
IAN
* * *
We’re drinkingbeer on the terrace when the women come back, loaded down with shopping bags. Vera sets her bags down beside a giant planter full of flowers. When she straightens up, we lock eyes, and she gives me a secretive smile that makes my heart lift in an unfamiliar way.
My grin says,Hello gorgeous. Did you miss me?
Her eyes dance, and then she looks away.
“Uh-oh,” Castro says. “How much trouble did you ladies get into?”
“Well, shopping with Vera is an experience,” Heidi Jo says. “But don’t worry—she’s a professional. All these purchases were strictly necessary.”
“Now hang on,” Vera says, adopting a stance of pure sass, one hand on her hip. “I’m not taking the fall for those shoes you bought.” Her eyes are bright, and her hair is rolled into some kind of sleek arrangement that makes her look like a runway model.
I just want to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her upstairs with me. Then I want to pull those clips out of her hair until it makes a tousled curtain across her bare shoulders.
She takes another glance at me, like she can’t help herself. And suddenly there are way too many people on this terrace.
“Who needs a drink?” Neil asks, ever the host. He opens a bottle of pinot grigio and starts pouring. But I’m just counting the seconds until I can get Vera away from the crowd without being too obvious about it.
Finally, she carries her wine glass closer to my lounge chair. “Hi, Ian.”
“Hi, pretty lady. Did you have fun keeping all the shops of Milan in business?”
She gives me an arch look. “You know I did. Some of my haul was for you, big guy. Can I have a moment of your time to show you my stuff?”
There are so many filthy ways to reply to that request. But Vera prefers well-behaved men, and I’m no fool. “Sure, contessa. Let’s go. Show me your stuff.” I cross to the massive pile of bags and ask, “Are these all yours?”
“Don’t judge,” she says.
“I’m not. I’m helping.” Not that it’s easy. I’ve got shopping bags hanging from nearly every appendage by the time I’ve picked them all up.
“Let me carry something,” she says.
“No can do. A man doesn’t let a lady carry anything as long as he has at least one functioning arm.”
“All right, bossypants. Thank you.” She strides on long legs up the stairway, and I find myself standing there admiring the view for a moment. The woman knows how to move, that’s for sure.
Charli clears her throat. Loudly. And when I look at her, she gives me a sly wink. I don’t know what that’s all about, but I also don’t care. I follow Vera up the stairs and then down the hall to her bedroom.
Inside, one glance at her bed is all it takes to remind my libido that this is the scene of last night’s fun times. If I play my cards right, we can do it again. Except Vera is still treating me a little like a stranger.
“Thank you for carrying those,” she says primly. “Just drop them anywhere.”
