Page 102 of Finally Mine
Thank you. For listening. For guiding. For everything.
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Gloria woke in a rush, her heart beating against her ribs. But it wasn’t because of her nightmares anymore. Those had stopped the minute Glenn Diller had been hauled away in the back seat of a cop car, feeling the effects of the concussion she’d dealt him.
These nightmares were Aldo’s.
She’d had her suspicions. Post-traumatic stress. Panic attacks. He covered them well. But he couldn’t hide it from her in his sleep.
Aldo was wrapped around her, tensed as if to strike, his body trembling. She thought he’d sleep better in his own bed, had insisted they move their sleepovers to his house for the weekend. But the nightmares still found him.
Gloria rolled over and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. In his sleep, Aldo buried his face in her tank-top-covered breasts.
They hadn’t spent a night apart since the incident with Glenn. They also still hadn’t had sex.
Two weeks had passed since the trauma that had unlocked Gloria from her prison. But it had had the opposite effect on Aldo.
After theirmoment—their mind-blowing, life-alteringmoment—in Harper’s backyard, Gloria thought that a physical relationship would bloom naturally between them. However, it seemed that the sexiest moment of her life had only encouraged Aldo to put sex on the back burner…in someone else’s kitchen…in a town across the country.
She got it. She did. To a man like Aldo, pride was wired into his DNA. If he tried and failed at something like the sex that they’d both built up to be the be-all, end-all of orgasmic experiences? Well, the progress he’d made since coming home could come to a screeching halt.
Not knowing was better than knowing.
Unfortunately, now that she knew what an orgasm was, waking up to Aldo’s raging morning wood was a special kind of torture. But he’d been patient with her. She could return the favor. But if he made her wait ten years, she’d have to get creative with her seduction techniques.
“Aldo,” she whispered.
His body stiffened against her, but she held on tighter.
“Wake up,mi león.”
Aldo woke instantly with an uncanny perception of his surroundings. Without even opening his eyes, the man forced himself to relax, to pretend he hadn’t been in the throes of a nightmare.
“What does that mean?” he asked, pulling Gloria tight to him.
She could feel his heart still pounding against her cheek. “My lion.”
He grunted, approving the nickname.
“Was it the explosion or Harper’s house?” Gloria asked.
Of course, it was neither and both. Dreams, especially ones that were shaded by post-traumatic stress, weren’t usually an exact replay of real life. Gloria knew this from experience. But the feelings they left in their wake were.
“I was lost in the woods, looking for you,” he murmured against her hair. “Couldn’t find you. Then someone started shooting.”
She was so grateful that he talked to her. That he didn’t go full-blown testosterone-fueled ‘don’t worry your pretty little head about it.’ He was trying. But maybe it was time they looked for some answers outside themselves. She had a few ideas.
Relaxing back against him, she reached up and threaded her fingers through his unruly hair. “You okay to meet up with Harper and the gang for breakfast?”
“Yeah,” Aldo said gruffly, cuddling her closer.
* * *
She was already regrettingher decision. The box bounced and scrabbled in her grip as tiny claws tried to shred the cardboard like a Tasmanian devil.
“Hang on. One more minute. Please, please, please, be cute and sweet and not horrible,” Gloria whispered to the box. “Oh my God. This was the worst idea I’ve ever had.”
But it was too late, the bell was rung, and Aldo was opening his front door.
