“You look good, sweetheart.” His eyes roam over her as he gives her a rakish grin. “Real good.”
“Thanks, so do you.”
Dylan is handsome, with sun-streaked blond hair and hazel eyes. He’s wearing torn-up jeans and a black biker’s jacket. They moved in together at his insistence, but this was back when she had lost her mojo and wasn’t feeling it with any guy. They tried to make it work, but the whole thing really never took flight between them.
“I’ve got your stuff.” He walks back over to the bike to open one of his saddle bags and retrieve her things. He pulls out a plastic sack and hands it to her.
“Thank you, I appreciate you bringing it by.”
“No problem.” He looks around at the house. “Nice place. So, it’s true? You really did get married?”
Lindsay nods. “It was kind of a sudden thing.” She’s not sure if Dylan is still in love with her, but she doesn’t think so. The vibe she’s getting tells her he’s over it.
“Very sudden, I hear.”
“We were swept away.”
He nods, chuckling. “Don’t worry, Linds. I’m happy for you.”
“Do you want to come inside the house?” Part of her hopes he says no, but the other part of her thinks maybe she needs to test Giovanni. I mean, how is this ever going to work between us if he can’t handle me having friends over who are guys?
“Okay, but I have to keep it short. I’m meeting someone.”
She raises an eyebrow. “A hot date?”
“Yeah, basically. It’s kind of new, but so far it’s good.”
They head inside, and she doesn’t see any sign of Giovanni. She offers Dylan something to drink, and he accepts a glass of ice water.
“Really nice,” he says, nodding as he looks around. “I’ve always liked these old Tudor homes, and this one is a beauty. It appears your new husband has good taste in more than just women.” He winks at her.
“Do you want to meet him? He’s just out back.”
“Sure.”
Dylan follows her out through the back door to where Giovanni is still hammering away at something near the fence. Lindsay doesn’t know why she’s bringing Dylan out and hopes this isn’t stupid on her part.
As they get closer, Giovanni stops what he’s doing. She can see the way he’s taking Dylan’s measure. He’s still holding the hammer, and Lindsay is suddenly nervous.
Dear God, please don’t let this turn into a homicide.
She can see the news story already: A well-respected pediatric surgeon is accused of murdering his fake wife’s ex-boyfriend in a fit of nonsensical jealousy. Fake wife says she hopes this doesn’t ruin their adoption plans. Fake wife also admits she loves the accused and says their marriage is ‘almost real’ anyway.
Lindsay introduces the men, and they shake hands. Giovanni is wearing his usual tense expression and looks more like Thor than ever with that hammer by his side.
“Congratulations on your wedding,” Dylan says. “And let me just say you have great taste in women.”
“Thank you.”
“And houses, as well. This is a beautiful Tudor. I’m guessing it was built around the early 1930s?”
“Thanks and yes, it was. 1934.”
Dylan asks a few questions about the house. Giovanni seems guarded, but still polite.
“I see you’re building a trellis.” Dylan nods down at the wood frame Giovanni was hammering a few moments ago. “Are you planning to add some fruit trees against the south fence there?”
“I am.” Giovanni is now looking at Dylan with interest. “Mostly apple.”
Dylan nods, his eyes roaming the back yard. “It’s an excellent idea. It makes perfect use of the space.”
“I thought so,” Giovanni agrees. “I’m still trying to figure out how many trees I can fit back here.”
“There are a few varieties of plum you also might want to consider.”
And before Lindsay knows it, the two men are discussing apple and plum trees and Giovanni’s plans for his mini orchard. She had no idea Dylan knew so much about fruit trees but then remembers his parents run a plant nursery.
After a short while, Giovanni seems to relax, and by the time Dylan tells them he has to leave for his date, her husband appears almost reluctant to let him go.
“You should drop by my parents’ store up in Shoreline,” Dylan says. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you a twenty percent discount.”
“Really? Thanks, I’ll do that.”
Lindsay walks him back out front to his motorcycle. When she comes back, Giovanni is in the house grabbing a bite to eat.
“You did very well,” she says, coming up and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” he says in a dry tone. “You should have told me he was a master gardener. I could use one of those right now.”
“It never occurred to me. He’s an architect, but I forgot his parents own a nursery.”
Giovanni cuts off a piece of salami and pops it in his mouth. “So, did I pass your little test?”
“I wasn’t testing you.” Her eyes go to the salami in his hand. “You know I haven’t seen you eat a single insect since we’ve lived here. Not even one potato bug.”
He smirks. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Okay, fine.” She accepts the bite of salami he offers her. “I just wanted to make sure you could handle it when more of my male friends come around to visit.”
“More?” He looks slightly queasy. “How many more are we talking about?”
“I don’t know, less than a dozen.” She laughs at his panicked expression. “Don’t worry, they’re not all ex-boyfriends.”
“Christ.” He shakes his head as he cuts off another piece of salami. “I’ll bet they’re all in love with you, though.”
Lindsay doesn’t say anything since she suspects a few of them are—not that she encourages it.
“Why didn’t it work out with that guy I just met? With Dylan.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. There was no sizzle.”
Giovanni meets her eyes. “We’ve got sizzle.” He gives her a sexy grin. “Lots of sizzle.”
She steps closer to him and steals the piece he’s just cut for himself. “We sure do, Olaf.”
After Giovanni finishes attaching the two trellises he’s built to the back fence, he drags one of the chaise patio chairs over and takes a seat. He won’t be able to plant anything until the weather cools, but at least it’s all prepared.
There’s something about all this—a home of his own, laying down roots for the first time—that relaxes him in ways he never thought possible. He’s been living on adrenaline for so many years he’d forgotten what it felt like not to.
“Admiring your handiwork?” Lindsay says, coming out to join him.
“Yes.” He chuckles a little. “It’s kind of crooked, but I’m still enjoying it. I can’t remember the last time I built something.”
She puts her hands on her hips, studying his trellis as he studies her. She’s wearing a pair of cut-off shorts, which show off her long legs and round ass in a way that can only be described as spectacular.
“It doesn’t look crooked to me,” she says, turning around and catching him admiring her body.
“Come over here.” He grins, reaching for her.
She walks closer, and he opens his thighs, making room for her to sit between them.
“I’ve worked with wood a little,” she tells him, sitting sideways between his legs so they can still see each other. “I taught a class years ago where we sculpted using an axe.”
“You sculpted with an axe?”
She nods. “It was this crazy technique a friend and I came up with. In fact, I threw the axe at my sister’s door one night, and it got stuck. This was before she knew Anthony—though he’s the one who finally figured out how to remove it.”
He chuckles. “Damn, you’re dangerous.”
“Don’t worry, I won�
��t be throwing any axes at your front door.”
“Our front door,” he corrects her.
“Okay,” she says. “Our front door.”
“Don’t you feel like this is your home? Because that’s how it feels to me.”
“I do for the most part. It’s just that I’m not paying for any of it.”
“You buy groceries,” he points out. “Not to mention all the other ways you’ve added to the house. None of this would be the same without you.”
“I feel like a kept woman though.” She looks around at the yard. “I could never afford a place like this.”
“I don’t expect you to pay for any of it. That wasn’t part of our arrangement.” He slides his hand down her arm, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin. “I love taking care of you. It pleases me more than you can imagine.”
She frowns. “Once I’m flush again, I’ll help pay bills.”
“You don’t have to. In fact, I still wish you’d let me give you the twenty grand we initially agreed upon.”
“Forget it.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t even go there.”
He doesn’t say anything, knowing it’s an argument he’ll lose since he’s already lost it a few times.
“Have you thought any more about what I said earlier?” she asks, laying her hand on his chest. She fingers his T-shirt. “About talking to a therapist?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
He takes a deep breath. “I know you mean well, but I don’t need therapy. I think you’re mischaracterizing the relationship I had with Olivia. I wasn’t a victim.”
“That’s the same thing I said about what happened to me, remember?”
His hand on her arm slows. “Do you accept it now? That you were taken advantage of by that scumbag?”
She goes quiet. Her lovely brown eyes seem to reflect on this. It’s early evening, and the sky has turned orange and pink. There’s a smoky scent in the air from one of their neighbors barbecuing. “I’m starting to see how what happened that night was like the perfect storm.” Her expression turns adamant. “But I also understand how nothing that creep did could ever define me. I define myself.”
Giovanni slides his hand into hers. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
She turns to him, and her expression is sympathetic. “In many ways, I think what happened to you is worse.”
“All I did was fall in love with the wrong woman. It wounded me, but it turns out wounds heal over time.” He glances down at her injured middle finger.
Lindsay scoots up a little so she can rest her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her, kissing her hair before leaning his head back on the lounge chair and closing his eyes. Grateful a million times over again that she came into his life.
I’ve finally fallen in love with the right woman.
“You may not agree with my way of thinking,” she says. “But I hate what she did to you. A part of me wishes I could have gotten my hands on her.”
He opens his eyes.
“Can I ask you something? How did Olivia die?”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out, gazing up at the sky. “She was eaten by a shark.”
Lindsay goes still. “What?” She raises her head from his shoulder and stares at him. “I’m sorry, but what the fuck?” A bubble of laughter escapes her.
“It’s true.”
“Eaten by a shark? No way.” She laughs some more, incredulous. “You’re making that up.”
“I’m not.” He shakes his head, chuckling a little. “It sounds nuts, I know. But she was attacked by a shark while scuba diving off the coast of Florida.”
“Are you sure? A shark?”
“I’m sure. I even met with the touring company who took her out on their boat. Apparently, there were several shark sightings, but Olivia refused to listen to the warning. In fact, she nearly got one of their guides killed.” He remembers talking to the owner of the boat, how they said she insisted on diving despite everyone trying to convince her otherwise. “She was always too reckless, and she hated the word ‘no.’”
“How long ago was this?”
“About eight years.”
“That must have made headlines.”
“It did. It made international headlines.” Absurdly, Olivia would have enjoyed all the media attention as she was quite vain.
Lindsay takes this in, and another small bubble of laughter escapes her. “Damn, I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny.”
“It’s not,” he agrees, though he can’t stop grinning either.
They both look at each other, struggling to keep a straight face.
She bites her lip. “I’m a terrible person for finding humor in this.”
He shrugs. “These things happen.”
“Eaten by a shark, though? I’ve never heard of anything so crazy.”
“She did love the sea at least.”
Lindsay’s eyes go wide and before he knows it, she bursts out laughing. He can’t stop himself from laughing with her.
“We’re going straight to hell!” she tells him before another wave of laughter hits her.
“Probably,” he admits, still chuckling as he wipes his eyes. He was saddened when he heard about Olivia’s death all those years ago, and he certainly wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but he has to admit there was a ridiculous irony to it.
Finally, they get themselves under control, and Lindsay lays her head back down on his shoulder. “Unbelievable,” he hears her still muttering. “Eaten by a motherfucking shark.”
A few days later, Lindsay finally gets some good news on the financial front. Her agent, Emily, calls while she’s at the bakery to let her know one of her masks from the gallery in Berlin just sold to a German business and they want to commission two more.
“That’s fantastic!” She grips the phone with relief. “Do they have anything specific in mind?”
“It sounds like they want two pieces in a similar style, but are leaving it to your discretion.”
“Love it.” She grins. That’s her favorite kind of commission.
“I’ll forward their e-mail. I’ve already sent them the standard contract. You should be receiving the funds from the gallery in Berlin, minus their cut, within a week.”
After they hang up, Lindsay dances around the cash register, doing a little bump and grind.
“Good news?” Carlos, their star barista, asks, pouring steamed milk into two large white mugs.
“The best ever.” She tells him about the sale and the two pieces commissioned, and he agrees it’s definitely good news.
She goes in back to share her news with Natalie and Blair and discovers Natalie’s new manny is there with Luca. In an ironic twist, the manny is named Manuel and even goes by Manny as a nickname. She met him for the first time when he brought Luca by yesterday for a visit. Manuel is twenty-five years old. He’s straight, married, handsome, slightly overweight, and Lindsay’s approval of him is one thousand percent.
He’s also a good guy, and Luca took to him right away.
“Hey, big boy. Come on out and hang with your auntie,” Lindsay says to Luca, unstrapping him from his car seat carrier. His grin goes wide as he grabs a hunk of her hair and pulls hard. “Ow! Hey, I’d like to keep some of my hair.” She dances around with him as he giggles and drools. “My goodness, you’re light on your feet!”
“You’re in a good mood,” Natalie says, laughing as she turns to watch the two of them.
Lindsay tells them about the phone call from Emily, and both Natalie and Manuel agree it’s fantastic news.
When she arrives home later that evening, after working in her studio all afternoon, she’s surprised to discover opera on the stereo and Giovanni in the kitchen making dinner.
“Hey, what’s all this? I thought you had to be at the hospital tonight.”
“No, it got canceled.”
“Really?”
“I was filling in for another surgeon, but she came in.” He shrugs. “I�
�m still on call, though.”
“Wow.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Lindsay goes over to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. “Well, I’m glad you’re here because I have incredible news to share.”
She notices he has a pot of water on the stove he’s bringing to a boil, and he’s also melting butter in a large pan.
“What news is that?” he asks.
She tells him about her sale in Berlin. “Can you believe it?” She uncorks the bottle. “Just in the nick of time too. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to manage tuition.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She pours herself a glass of wine and takes a sip, letting her eyes slide down his body. He’s wearing tan cords and a fitted T-shirt that’s fitting him very well indeed. “I want to celebrate.”
He glances at her. “Should we go out?”
“No, let’s stay in.”
“All right,” he murmurs and then gives her a suggestive look. A pleasant tingle runs through her veins, slipping down her spine. She watches him turn off the heat on all the burners, also moving the frying pan. Always thinking ahead. His approach to life is so different than hers. She’s never been much of a planner, but she sees the benefit a lot more than she used to.
He moves closer to her, takes her wine glass and sets it on the counter.
“You know what?” She slips her arms around his neck. “I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me in this kitchen.”
Giovanni tilts his head as a grin pulls on those sensual lips. “You’re right, I haven’t.” He bends down to kiss her. She thinks he’s going to remedy the kitchen fucking situation, but instead he reaches around for her hand. “Come on, I have a little surprise for you.”
He leads her into the living room near the stereo. She looks around the room but doesn’t see any surprise.
“Close your eyes,” he tells her.
She obliges and hears him turn off the opera. There are some clicking sounds of him manipulating his iPod. A few moments later, she hears a familiar rhythm guitar, a rolling drumbeat, and then Elvis singing.
“Burning Love!” She opens her eyes with a shriek of delight.
“Our song,” he says in a dry tone. And then he leans in toward her. “I’ve decided to finally give you that wedding dance you wanted.”
Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) Page 29