5. Leo

CHAPTER 5

Leo

I t’s a few minutes before 6:00 when I pull up in front of Giana’s house. Uncle Jim, Pete’s dad, let me borrow his car for the night. Even though I was vague about my intentions with it, I have a feeling Uncle Jim knows it’s for a date.

Giana opens the door just as I’m about to knock.

“Hey, Leo.”

She hurries outside, joining me on the front porch. Closing the door behind her, she leans her back against it.

“Ready?” It’s a dumb question. She’s a knockout in a red and white polka dot blouse, a short skirt, and lips so red they remind me of a lollipop. And boy, do I want a taste. “You…you look absolutely stunning,” I say, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck.

She smiles, and her brown eyes sparkle. Her freckles dancing across her nose seem to sparkle too.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

The compliment heats my skin.

“Should I come in and meet your parents? ”

“Nah, they’re busy. Next time.” She hooks her arm in mine and yanks me down the porch steps.

I rush to the passenger door and tug it open for her before she can reach it first. Something tells me this girl is used to being independent. But if my mama knew I was acting like anything less than a gentleman, she’d never let me hear the end of it. Southerners are known for their manners.

“So, where’re we going?” Giana asks after I’ve rounded the front of the Impala and slid into the driver’s seat.

“The Steakhouse. You’ve ever been there?”

She shakes her head. “It’s the most expensive restaurant in town.”

“Then it better be good.” I flash her a grin when I feel her staring at me.

It doesn’t take long to reach the restaurant. Maple Ridge is a small town. There’s one strip of road that’s considered downtown, which is part of the highway, bringing more traffic through than necessary. But with all the homes dispersed around town, it’s bigger than it seems.

When I park the car along the curb and turn the key in the ignition, Giana touches my arm.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

I pinch my brows together. “What? Why?”

She exhales through her nose. “Leo, in case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m not some fancy girl. I don’t need expensive restaurants. I don’t want expensive restaurants.”

“I just thought…this would be…uh nice.” I fumble over my words.

“The thought was nice,” she attempts to assure me.

“But—”

She grazes her fingers down my arm until they reach my hand, and she gives it a squeeze. “I want to take you somewhere. ”

Her deep-brown eyes hypnotize me, drawing me in and causing me to agree with a nod. If she continues to look at me like this, I fear I’ll concede to anything she wants.

“It’s close. We can walk from here.” She opens the car door, confirming my earlier suspicions.

I can’t help but chuckle.

On the street, she slips her hand into mine. I could get used to this candid trait of hers. It removes some of the pressure of not knowing what she’s thinking or how she feels about me. It’s direct. It’s honest. And not something I’ve ever experienced.

After two blocks and passing three people Giana is friendly with, she pulls me into a small restaurant. Though the term restaurant is a bit of a stretch. The Pines is a bar that serves food, beer, and spirits. It’s dark but cozy at the same time. Music streams from a large jukebox in the back of the restaurant.

As soon as we sit at a small two-seater table in the corner, Giana’s shoulders visibly relax. Her face is brighter too. A sweet smile tugs at her red lips when a young waitress comes to take our order.

She orders for me as I sit there in utter amazement at the beautiful, confident woman across from me. I squeeze in a thank you before the waitress scurries off. I set the menu down before I even had the chance to open it. I don’t even know what she ordered for me, and I don’t much care.

“What?” She straightens.

I shake my head, an easy smile spreading on my lips. “Nothin’. Just can’t help but admire you.”

A blush tints her cheeks as she dips her chin. She tucks her long auburn hair behind her ear.

The waitress returns, sliding two glasses in front of us, filled with golden liquid.

“Thanks, ma’am.” I pick up mine but wait for Giana to take a drink of hers first. I revel in her reaction when she does. There’s a soft smile on her lips, and her eyes close for an extra long moment. Her shoulders relax even more. I suck down a drink, and the bubbles tickle my nose. Now I understand Giana’s reaction. It’s better than any beer I’ve ever tasted in Texas.

“Now that we’ve got our beer, let’s talk about the cabin. And the finances.”

“It’s all business with you, isn’t it?” I smirk, leaning back in my chair.

“We were coming to dinner tonight to discuss the loan, were we not?”

“Nah, you’re right. But I’d be lying if I said that was my only reason for asking you out tonight.”

She leans across the table, and I can’t help from allowing my gaze to drift to the subtle cleavage now on display. “Mr. Moretti, do you have any intent on going through with this? Or were you simply trying to get a date?”

“Darlin’, I can assure you my business intentions are pure. But,” I say, bending so we’re looking one another right in the eyes, “I cannot, however, guarantee the rest of my intentions are wholesome. Because ever since I saw you, I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about you. I can’t get you outta my damn mind.”

My heart hammers in my chest like a jackhammer. Being so blunt with a woman means giving her the opportunity to stomp all over my heart. And I’ve never had to work so hard at this before.

Giana’s eyes widen, and her red lips screw up tight. I hold my breath.

“Well, then that makes two of us,” she says.

I bark out a laugh, relief filling me.

“My question for you is, are we going to let one get in the way of the other?” She tilts her head.

“The way I see it, the two go hand in hand.”

She frowns. “How so?”

“Sugar, I not only want to go into business with you, but I’d also like to go into… you .” My face heats after the words are out. That line sounded so much better in my head. Anticipation spreads through my limbs while I wait for her reply, and I swear my perspiration must be visible. Maybe she didn’t even catch my meaning.

She leans back, swiping her glass from the table and taking a long swig. My attention zones in on her neck, at the freckled and glowing skin. It calls to my lips.

When she sets her beer back down, she finally speaks, “Let’s start with business. But I might be open to the idea of your other proposition.”

“Yeah?” My brows shoot up. “When?”

She snorts a light laugh behind a cupped hand. “I don’t know. Dinner first. Maybe we make it through our meeting at the bank tomorrow. The wedding? Then…we’ll see.”

We’ll see.

I allow the words to settle in my brain.

Sitting back, I gulp the rest of my beer. Satisfaction winds its way through my veins. I had no idea what to expect in Maple Ridge, Colorado, when I planned to stay for the summer. But this—Giana Russo—is a pleasant surprise.

And to think, I’d almost been dreading it. When my mama told me she and my dad were getting divorced and after the wedding, I should plan to stay in Maple Ridge until things between them cooled over, I was worried. But now, I think this summer in Maple is exactly what I need.

A fter finishing my mediocre burger and a full plate of greasy, delicious fries, Giana and I slip out of the bar and into the inky night holding hands. I mindlessly caress her fingers with my thumb as the alcohol continues to dull my anxiety over my touching her. I want to do so much more than touch her.

“Mind if we take the longer route back to the car? Give the alcohol a chance to work its way out of my system before driving you home.”

“There’s a park up ahead.” She gestures with her chin. “Just past the church.”

“Perfect.”

We walk down the sidewalk, the streetlamps and near full moon lighting our way. While the road remains busy with traffic, we don’t pass many people. It’s a weeknight, and I imagine most are home preparing for a workday.

“Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your parents?”

She stops abruptly. “What?”

I shrug it off. “I get it, I’m a cowboy. I talk funny. I’m not from around here.”

“No, that’s not it.” Giana starts walking again. “My parents…they’re different.”

“How so?”

“They’re not like Nettie’s parents. Or Pete’s. And probably not yours either.”

“Are you kidding? My parents aren’t perfect.”

“Yeah, right,” she mutters under her breath, her attention fixated on the sidewalk.

“You know why I came to Colorado without them? Because they’re getting divorced and needed to send someone to represent the family at the wedding.”

Her eyes lift and meet mine. There’s pain and sadness conveyed in them.

“I’m sorry.”

Hunching my shoulders, I disregard the pity.

“My parents don’t really care one way or another what I do. I think they changed when my dad got injured while working at the mill. My mama started caring for him instead of me.” She purses her lips. “I think they’ll be happy for me if I can buy the cabin and move out there. I know I’d be a lot happier.”

We reach the park, and Giana guides us to the swings. She releases my hand and sits down, gripping the chains as she pushes off the ground with her heels. I sit in the swing next to hers and watch her.

She looks youthful as she pumps herself higher. Her long, wavy hair flows behind her, and her smile grows. I’m mesmerized.

It’s impressive to witness someone so joyful knowing full well they’re dealing with hardships like she is. But she doesn’t let it get her down. She’s been holding onto her dreams, and not only does she not allow the misfortune to get in the way of them, but she also doesn’t use them as a crutch like so many people I know.

“How do you do that?” I ask her.

She slows her swing down and glances over at me. “Do what?”

“Pretend like everything around you isn’t going to shit?”

She shrugs. “Not everything’s going to shit.” Her gaze holds my eyes prisoner. It’s intense. It’s meaningful, and it draws me off my swing until I’m standing in front of her.

I grip the chains above her hands, and the swing comes to an abrupt stop. When she peers up at me, I can’t ignore the lust I find burning there. I slide my hands down until they cover hers and can hear her sharp intake of breath.

Lowering myself slightly, I lean forward and touch my mouth to her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about the kiss we shared in the cabin,” I whisper. “You sure we have to wait until after the wedding?”

When I straighten, I catch her biting her lip.

She clears her throat. “I’m not sure about anything when I’m with you,” she answers, her voice haughty, and it sets my skin on fire.

I unclasp her hands from the chain and tug her off the swing, pulling her against me. When our chests collide, she exhales a shaky breath.

“Me neither,” I admit, as I brush the pad of my thumb over her lips and my eyes devour her. “Does that scare you?”

She shakes her head.

“Because I like how I am when I’m with you.”

“I like you too.” She breathes out a light laugh.

“Good.”

This time, I don’t ask before I lower my lips to hers. I take. And it feels good. It feels better than good. Because I know she wants it. She’s every bit turned on as I am.

I cup the back of her head with my hand. As I sweep my tongue into her mouth, I stretch her neck further. Her own tongue answers eagerly. A soft moan escapes her lips, stirring the craving for her even more. Her arms circle around me, and she kneads her fingertips into my back as I deepen the kiss.

The lust for her burns in my gut with each thrust of her tongue against mine. But when she breaks the kiss and takes my hand, guiding it underneath her blouse, my cock stiffens. In a deliberately unhurried manner, she glides my hand up her smooth ribs. All the while, she gazes at me with dark eyes, glossy with desire .

She shivers underneath my touch, despite her leading the way. And when my hand skims the lacey fabric of her brassiere, saliva pools in my mouth.

She sucks in a breath.

“Is…is this okay?” I pant, my eyes flitting over the part of her my hand is fondling. My imagination is running wild, thinking about how incredible she must look beneath her clothing.

Nodding, she says, “I want you to touch me.”

God, I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven. Where did this girl come from?

I lean in and kiss her again, and when I do, I slide my thumb underneath the fabric of her bra and tease a nipple. She gasps, and I nearly come unhinged. Fuck.

I want more of her.

I want all of her.

But not like this. Not tonight.

Gliding my hand back out of her shirt, I break the kiss. “I want you…so bad…but?—”

She exhales. “But it’s time to get me home,” she says regretfully.

“Correct.”

“Fine,” she says, but it comes out sounding pouty. “I suppose we do have all summer.”

I take her hand in mine, and we stroll through the park.

“I can’t wait,” I say, trying not to sound too eager but worried I’ve failed because she flashes me an adorable grin.

Staying holed up in that cabin with her sounds like an unimaginable dream.

The drive back to Giana’s house is quiet. Though the sexual tension in the car is blaring.

She lets me hold her hand as we walk up the steps and onto the porch .

“We’re still going to the bank tomorrow, right?” she asks.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. Then until tomorrow, Cowboy.” She leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek before turning around and slipping inside.

Clutching my chest, I can’t stop the permanent smile from taking residence on my face.