Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LEIGH

We follow the petite redheaded hostess to a table overlooking the main downtown strip of Telluride. With the white tablecloths, candles and wine on the table, and twinkling lights outside—it’s damn romantic.

I hate it.

Not because I don’t love a top-notch romantic moment, but this isn’t what I had in mind. It feels forced.

If Luca is trying to prove to me he’s not the same guy I remember, he has a funny way of showing it by taking me to the kind of restaurant his parents would eat at.

Then again, how’s he supposed to know fancy dinners and wine aren’t the way to my heart?

Isn’t that what tonight’s supposed to be about? Getting to know one another. Figuring out what makes the other one tick.

Luca swings around the table and pulls out my chair, his eyes locked on me, much to the dismay of the hostess who has not stopped trying to impress him since we walked in.

But I mean, who could blame her?

Luca is gorgeous. Dressed in cashmere and designer jeans, he screams cocky pretty boy with money. But that’s not what stands out to me. It’s the stubble he didn’t shave, because he knows I like it. It’s the way he bites the inside of his cheek to hide his nerves, because he doesn’t want to mess this up for any of us—Zach, me, or him. It’s the way he looks at my son, like he is the center of his world. The way he looks at me—with the sort of intensity you expect from someone who is your ride or die.

But isn’t that essentially what co-parenting is? Or at least it should be. For the rest of Zach’s life, we’re in this together.

I search his stubbled face, watching as his brow furrows.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

I nod, saving my spiraling thoughts for an in-depth evaluation later in the comfort of my own bed.

“Look at you being a gentleman,” I quip in an attempt to lighten the mood.“Is this how you treat all the girls in LA?”

The joke hits its mark, and Luca chuckles as he rounds the table. “You assume I take them to dinner.”

He tips the hostess and requests for a bottle of their finest red to be brought to the table. She, of course, asks if there’s anything else she can do for him, but his eyes never stray from mine, encouraging me to keep questioning him.

So I do.

“You’ve got a new girl on your arm for every club opening and gala you attend. You’re telling me there’s not dinner involved?”

His shrug is paired with a smirk. “Sure, there’s food when we attend those events. But there aren’t dinners like this.”

“And by that, you mean?”

He lowers his voice to an all too sexy octave. “Alone.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I counter with a disbelieving grin. The man is one of the most eligible bachelors on the west coast. There’s no way he expects me to believe all those women are just arm candy, and he doesn’t actually date them.

“Believe it. This”—he points between the two of us—“is not the norm. What we did in New York, that’s the norm.”

An awkward silence washes over the table as a bubbly blonde server returns with our wine. She makes a show of leaning over to pour my glass, showing Luca her tits and gushing about how it’s locally sourced at her father’s vineyard down the mountain.

I have to fight back my laugh as Luca chews his cheek to stifle an irritated groan.

“Thanks,” I tell Windy or Waverly. Whatever her name is. “We’ll need a few minutes to look at the menu.”

Ignoring me completely, she places a well-manicured hand on Luca’s shoulder and coos, “Take all the time you need.”

When she’s gone, I glance in her direction. “Should I let her know there’s an empty spot in your bed?”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

“Of her?” I ask. “Not at all.”

“Good, because you shouldn’t be,” he reassures me, his gaze locked on mine as if he’s determined to make sure I’m hearing him. He goes quiet and then the corner of his mouth tips upward in a sexy half grin. “But if you were, what would you do?”

“I’d make sure she knows you’re mine.” It’s a simple answer, one I haven’t had to think about in years, considering that’s how long it’s been since I’ve been in any kind of serious relationship. But I’m the first to admit I’m territorial when it comes to what’s mine.

“And just how would you do that?”

“Are you guys just about ready?” Winifred returns point two seconds after being dismissed with her big brown eyes locked on Luca like she stands a chance.

I’m about to roll my eyes dramatically when I’m struck with a better plan.

“Actually, Wednesday, I think we’re good.”

She glares at me, a fake smile plastered on her Barbie pink lips. “It’s Wendy.”

“Right. We’ll just take the check.”

“We will?” Luca questions, an amused glint in his eye.

“Absolutely,” I confirm, setting my menu down matter-of-factly. “After careful review, it’s clear you’re not going to find anything you like here.”

“We are a five-star restaurant, ma’am. I’m sure there’s something for him available.”

“Maybe so, but it has nothing on the five-star pussy he’s going to eat at home.”

Luca’s jaw drops like he isn’t sure he heard me correctly. But when I meet his gaze, daring him to defy me, he doesn’t hesitate. He stands and throws a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Thanks, Winona.”

The server stomps her foot and crosses her arms, heaving her tits skyward. “It’s Wendy.”

The guy at the table nearest us gives a slow clap as Luca wraps his hand around my bicep and hurls me from the chair. I struggle to keep up as he leads me out of the restaurant, but not before I look over my shoulder and wink at our still gaping server.

That’ll teach her to mess with another woman’s man.

Not that Luca’s really mine, but seriously, what kind of girl’s girl hits on a guy, who is out with another woman, right in front of her?

By the time we’re out the door, I’m giggling like a schoolgirl. “Did you see her face?”

I glance up, only to find Luca isn’t laughing.

He’s not even smiling.

His hand loosens and brushes down my arm until he’s wrapping his arm around my waist.

I gasp as he tugs me against him. Each point where we are connected feels magnetic—like lighting in a bottle fighting to get free. Goosebumps rise on my flesh and heat coils in my lower belly.It’s simultaneously too much and everything I need at the same time.

“Luca…” My words are a plea for as I try to tug free of his grasp. Though I’m not sure exactly what I’m begging.

That only spurs him to tighten his grip, and splaying his fingers across my back, he presses his hips to mine.

Fuck, he’s hard. Right here in the middle of the street, he’s showing me just how turned on he is.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly fucking sexy that was?”

“What?” I breathe, double-checking to make sure I heard him correctly.

“I have never had a woman stake her claim like you just did.”

“Never?”

“Not once.”

I want to ask how that’s possible. I want to believe him, but there’s no way women haven’t clawed their way to keep him in their beds.

“Women want me for what I can give them. They want press releases and fancy presents.” His voice waivers under ragged breaths. “They don’t stake their claim because they give a shit.”

I call bullshit.

“And you think I do?” It’s sarcasm at its finest, and we both know it.

Luca leans in until his lips are a hair's breadth from mine. “I know you do. You don’t do anything by halves, but also, you’re dressed in me. For you, that’s practically yelling you want this.”

My chest heaves against him. He’s right. It wasn’t enough for waitress Whitney to get the hint. I needed her to know he wasn’t available.Just like I knew exactly what I was doing when I chose this jacket.

But I don’t want this because of who he is outside of Telluride. Or because I know exactly how good his dick feels inside me.

I want this because he’s gone above and beyond to show me he’s changed. He’s one of the good ones.

People pass on either side of us, giving a wide berth to the couple having a moment in the middle of the sidewalk, but we’re living in the silence that hangs between us.I close my eyes, afraid that if I meet his gaze, I won’t be able to stop myself from crossing the weakening line between us.

But he needs to know.

“You deserve someone to fight for you.”

Luca tenses, and I immediately know, despite my good intentions, I've said the wrong thing.

Slamming my eyes open, I watch as Luca tears his gaze from mine and retreats into himself.

He steps back, and I instantly miss the feel of him against me. “We should get you fed.”

“Luca—”

“Do you mean it?” The desperation in his voice kills me, even as it confirms there are pieces to this situation I’m missing. “Any of it. All of it. Do you mean it?”

I shoot him a light-hearted grin meant to reassure him. “Which part? That you have a delicious pussy to eat at home or that I’d fight for you?”

“Both.”

I look him dead in the eye, just like he does when he wants to make sure I’m hearing him.

“Every word.”