Page 32 of Finally Found You

The moment becomes even more intoxicating as my eyes are drawn to the intricate tattoos that adorn his torso. Each design seems to tell a story—a tale of passion, adventure, and the unspoken secrets of his past.

The moment his shirt finally leaves his body and floats gently to the sand, I find myself utterly captivated, the mysterious allure of this man standing before me drawing me in. With a wink and a confident stride, he turns around, leaving my heart thundering inside my chest.

Forbidden.

The words echo through my mind, a constant reminder of the emotional turmoil that threatens to consume us both if I can’t control my longing.

For Kenzy. I’ll do it for her.

Chapter Sixteen

Camilla

Kenzy wakes up eager to explore San Francisco and experience all the tourist traps—whatever that means. She quickly texts her father, who immediately agrees. So far, he hasn’t had to say no to many of her requests. I’m afraid of how she’ll react when he starts denying things. Will she throw a tantrum, demand to leave, or try to negotiate until one of them gives in?

Lysander texts me, suggesting we dress warmly since the day will be cooler than the past few. If he thinks I’m going to dictate his daughter’s wardrobe choices, he clearly doesn’t understand the mind of a teenage girl.

We meet in his apartment before we head out for breakfast, but we find the table set and an array of bacon, pancakes, eggs, and fresh fruit waiting for us.

“Good morning, Lysander,” Kenzy greets him as she dashes toward the table.

I catch a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. Is he expecting her to call him Dad? It’s too soon, but I know he’s making an effort to close the big gap between them. I hope he understands that building a bond takes time and trust. I squeeze his hand reassuringly and whisper, “Be patient with her.”

Lysander’s gaze flickers to my hand touching his, and I sense the familiar crackle of electricity in the air. My heart races as I quickly withdraw my hand. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the palpable tension between us.

“We should eat,” Lysander suggests, trying to regain his composure. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Why don’t you two go alone?” I propose, well aware that joining them might lead to complications.

“So you can finish the puzzle by yourself?” Kenzy teases, piling pancakes onto her plate. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re coming,” Lysander insists, his warm smile sending a flutter through my chest. “Coffee?”

I nod in appreciation while Kenzy chimes in, “Yes, please.” Her smug grin is almost comical, as she’s sure her father will oblige.

“You’re too young for coffee,” Lysander says gently, pouring steaming coffee into two mugs. He glances at me, asking, “Cream?”

“No. I like my first cup dark. Like my heart.”

Kenzy rolls her eyes, countering, “Your heart is too pure. And I should drink coffee since I’m Italian.”

Lysander looks at me, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“It was Nonna’s way of saying it’s okay to break the rules. Plus, she swore Italians live longer because they drink espresso every morning,” I explain, shooting Kenzy a pointed look. “You’re still not old enough to drink coffee. Nonna wasn’t Italian—Grandfather was of Italian descent.”

Lysander studies me, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “So how Italian are you? A fourth, an eighth…”

“Who knows?” I shrug. “My great-grandfather was born in New York. I wouldn’t know about his parents. I’m pretty sure we’ve been here for more than a hundred years. In theory, there’s nothing Italian left in us. We just carry the last name.”

“We’re the last ones who carry it,” Kenzy says proudly.

I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to tell her that it’s just a last name and that, technically, she’s a Spearman. I don’t want to rain on her parade, so instead I ask, “Where are we going today?”

“You’ll see.” He eyes Kenzy. “Are you sure you want to wear that?”

She fixes him with a defiant glare. “What is wrong with my outfit?”

“It’s cold,” he responds, trying to sound nonchalant.

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