23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eric

Mia has been with me for five weeks now. Can someone change your life in five weeks? I feel different from the man I was when she first got here.

It’s harder to get through a workday now. Everything here feels mundane and monotonous. I keep picturing the swing I’m building for her. It’s almost done and I’m itching to get into my barn and finish it.

I didn’t even want to go to work today. Mia got a call from her brother last week. Her neighbor said she saw that ex-boyfriend of hers snooping around her house the other night.

I fucking hate this guy. What does he want with her? I don’t even like to ask myself that question because I’m terrified of the answer.

At this rate, I don’t see how I could ever feel good about her going back home. Not just for her safety, but I’d be a fool not to admit that I feel something for her. Every night on my way home from work, I tell myself to keep a wall around my heart. Yet the second I walk in the house and see her face, I feel like another piece of that wall falls.

But I still love what I do, right? I mean I’ve worked my entire life to get to this point. Who throws that all away? Not me.

Yet when it hits five o’clock, I close down my computer and head out to my car. I’ve left at this time all week, with the promise to myself that I will eat dinner and get back to work in my office for the rest of the night.

Only I don’t. Instead, I go to my barn where Mia comes out with some wine and talks to me while I work. We laugh and joke around. I even fucked her up against the wall which was one of the hottest moments of my life.

As soon as I open the door and see her face, there it is. That feeling in my chest that feels tight while the rest of the muscles in my body seem to relax.

I lean down and kiss her lips.

“How was work?” she asks with her perfect smile.

I groan. “It was fine.”

She laughs. “You’ve groaned and said it was fine every night this week.”

“What did you do today?” I ask, wanting to steer the conversation away from my work. It makes me tense enough while I’m there.

“I worked on some new marketing ideas,” she says, reluctant to make eye contact with me.

I’m not sure what that’s about but I shrug it off.

Then we spend the night watching some ridiculous show that I claim to hate but find myself sucked into the drama. Another night that I never thought I would enjoy if you described it to me a year ago, hell even a month ago, but now it feels right.

“What do you think the best type of cheese is?” Mia asks as we snuggle on the couch drinking a glass of her favorite red wine.

Laughter erupts in my chest. “What kind of question is that?”

She swats my stomach. “It is a perfectly valid question. At least coming from someone who is Italian and loves to cook. I’ll go first,” she offers. “I think pecorino romano is the best. It has a sharpness to it that comes through in your cooking without being too overpowering.”

“Does the creamy kind you use in boxed mac and cheese count?”

She tries to sit up, but I pull her back down trying to contain my laugh. “I’m kidding. I really like goat cheese. I’ve had it in salads and stuffed pork. It always tastes amazing.”

“Hmm. That’s a good answer. I approve.”

“Well, thank you. I guess. I didn’t realize my favorite cheese would be so important.”

“You can tell a lot about a person by what their favorite cheese is.”

I pull her in tighter to my chest. “I suppose you can.”

Honestly, I have no idea what she is talking about, but she sounds cute talking about it so I’m going with it.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I ask, not wanting to end the evening just yet. It’s so peaceful lying here with her. Once I sleep, the morning will come faster, and I’ll be at work.

“Sure. Wanna watch a chick flick?”

“What?” I laugh. “I guess if you want to.”

She shrugs. “I just thought maybe you secretly liked them. I opened the drawer to find a remote the other day and there were stacks of chick flicks in there. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh, that. Those were my exes. She never took them when she moved out, and I keep forgetting to get rid of them.”

“Your ex lived here with you? How long ago?”

“Like two years ago. She was my fiancée at the time.”

I don’t know why I just divulged that information willingly. There’s something about being with Mia that makes opening up to her feel easy. Well, easy might be too strong of a word. I wouldn’t say talking about my ex is ever easy.

“Fiancée? You were engaged?”

“I was. Didn’t work out, obviously.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“Not really a big secret. She ended up leaving me for the COO of my company. I believe she said he could provide a better life for her. I’m sure you can read between the lines. She wanted someone who would spoil her rotten with luxury twenty-four/seven. I didn’t make enough in her mind.”

She sits up straight. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I look her up and down, curious as to what her sudden anger is for. “No, I’m serious. She was horrible.”

“Where does this bitch live? I think I need to pay her a visit.”

“Woah, there baby. No need to get angry. I dodged a bullet with that one.”

I say it so quickly, and the best part is, I mean it. My life would be horrible if I ended up marrying Kim. Especially now that I’m seeing what a life with Mia is like.

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I kind of have a temper. It’s the Italian in me.”

My lips curl into a slow smile. “I love your temper. It’s sexy as hell. Never apologize for it.”

She leans her head to the side as her eyes turn soft. “Seriously, Eric. I’m sorry that happened to you. I hope you know that not all women are like that. Your success does not equal how worthy you are of love.”

I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. Suddenly, this topic feels suffocating. Maybe because I needed to hear those words, and I’m afraid that she just might be making me believe in love again.

“We don’t need to talk about this. I’d much rather take you upstairs and kiss every inch of your perfect body,” I whisper as my lips graze hers.

I can feel her reluctance to me changing the subject, but she gives in and wraps her arms around my neck. I scoop her up and head for the stairs.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m heading for a cliff, but there’s no way to stop. Not when everything feels right when she’s in my arms. Tonight, I just want to shut the world out. Shut my brain off and get lost in the comfort of her skin against mine.

I know it’s not the healthiest way to deal with my past or any negative emotions, but I’ve never claimed to be a stand-up guy.