Page 100 of Every Step She Takes
“If you had, I’d have sent you back to Rome for your own good.” I move to the bed and straddle his lap. “Let’s skip the blame game. We have a lot to talk about but right now…”
I hug him tight and whisper in his ear, “I love you.”
He gives a start at that, obviously not what he expected, and then he takes my face between his hands and tugs it in front of his. “I would say it back, but it’s never quite the same in response. I think you know how I feel. At least, I hope you do.”
“I kept things from you. Huge things. And when I was accused of murder, you flew across an ocean to help.” I put my arms around his neck. “Yes, I think I know how you feel about me.”
I bring my lips to his, and he lowers me onto the bed.
An hour later, I’m watching Marco sleep. I’m still struggling to fully comprehend what he did. I should have figured it out. TheDick Tracyreference, the food, the fact that we got along so well…
The last is both unsettling and deeply, deeply satisfying. Unsettling because it makes me realize what I could have lost.
My tour-guide and bike-courier lover used to be a private investigator. I should be shocked. I’m not. You can’t spend two years with a guy and not realize he’s done more than his current jobs suggest. I knew Marco had an undergrad degree. I knew just how smart he was. I suspected something had happened to make him decide on a quieter life, careerwise. I’d done the same. So I’m fascinated by his past, but surprised? No.
I’m still watching Marco when one eyelid flutters. One eye opens and then the other.
“Are you watching me sleep?” he says. “You know that’s creepy. I’d never do it to you. Especially not when you’re sleeping in a park.”
I kiss his cheek. “This place is a whole lot nicer than a park. A little too nice if I’m being honest.” I look around the room. “Don’t tell me you’re also a secret millionaire.”
“One quarter.”
I arch my brows.
“I have a modest trust fund that makes me roughly a quarter of a millionaire. I suspect it’s higher now because I haven’t touched it in years and my parents are nothing if not good investors.”
Marco has never talked much about his family except to say he comes from a big Italian one, but contra-stereotype, they aren’t particularly close.
When he doesn’t elaborate, awkward silence falls. A silence that it’s my job to fill because there’s something I really need to say.
“I am so sorry, Marco. I lied to you. Lied about who I was. Lied about my past. Lied about why I was coming to New York. I’m not who you thought I was.”
He touches my chin. “You are Genevieve Callahan. You are from Albany. Your mother is a retired school teacher, and your dad died when you were five. You went to Juilliard for viola. I know all that, and all of it is true. You are smart. You are kind. You are funny and sweet and good. You didn’t lie about who youare, Gen.”
My cheeks heat at the compliments. “I still should have told you the rest. You suffered for that. They exposed you online and threatened your job, and you couldn’t even say that you already knew about my past. I never gave you that opportunity, and I’m sorry.”
“I accept the apology. But to me, you didn’t lie. You just omitted things. We both avoided talking about our pasts. I kept a lot from you, too, as you may be realizing now.”
“Did you sleep with a celebrity? Please tell me you did.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, no. My downfall was worse… and far more mundane.” He rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Well, you know I got my bachelor’s degree in the US. I also went to law school here. I clerked in a defense attorney’s office, where I ended up doing more investigative work than clerking. After my second time failing the bar exam, I had an epiphany. If I wanted to pass, I needed to study.”
I smile. “I’ve heard that.”
“Weird, huh? The real epiphany was that there was a reason I wasn’t studying. I didn’t want to practice law. Never had. It was my parents’ game plan. Instead, I’d discovered a career I actually enjoyed.”
“Investigating.”
“Yep. I gave up on law, and the firm hired me on full-time. My parents were furious. Disowned me. Did you know that’s actually a thing? I figured it was just something people did in historical novels. Apparently not.”
He’s making light, but old confusion and hurt cloud his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Marco.”
