Finished, we were all sweaty and tired.
I closed the door and attached my new lock to the unit.
Then we headed back to the car in silence.
“Are you worried?” Blair asked after we dropped the electronics off with an already overworked Zeno, grabbed Goya, and headed back home so he could work in peace.
I sucked in a deep breath and looked over at her.
“I’d be lying if I said no. And I don’t want to lie to you.”
To that, she nodded.
“I’d rather know the truth. Even if it’s scary.”
“Then I’ll always give it to you. I think we’ve both dealt with enough lying in the past few years.”
“Brutal honesty then,” she agreed. “Unless I’m asking if I look all right when I look like hell. Then… lie to me.”
“Honey, you could never look like hell.”
“Exactly,” she agreed with a little nod. “Keep me delusional.”
She leaned in closer to me.
And I couldn’t help but lean down and steal a quick kiss. While I hoped like hell this little conversation was a sign that she was considering a future with me.
The problem was, we were so busy getting lost in each other that we didn’t realize how close danger really was.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Blair
Unfortunately for everyone, Matthew’s laptop wasn’t as easy to get into as his safe had been, since he had it fingerprint enabled.
For a full two days—where it seemed Zeno worked round the clock—for him just to get the damn thing unlocked.
I was sure there were members of the Costa family who were anxious and wanted it over.
As for me, though, I was in this dreamy little cocoon of pleasure and (dare I say it?) happiness.
And after so many hard and unhappy years, I was letting myself bask in it.
After the first day, I wouldn’t even let myself entertain thoughts of how it might be temporary, how we were just playing at a life together, not actually living one.
None of that mattered.
What mattered was how good it felt to have someone to share a deep conversation with, someone to cook with, to go on walks with, to fall into bed with, to lose myself for hours in.
Did the dreamy days when I had Nico all to myself start to create this warm, swelling sensation in my chest? Was I starting to think the sensation was the very thing that had been missingfrom my marriage all along? That thing that made people paint portraits and write poetry?
Yes.
But even the fear of falling too hard for something fake wasn’t enough to force me to pull back or put up my guards.
Just for once, I was going to let myself feel instead of think.
“Was he okay going with him?” I asked, heart a little broken to see Nico coming into the apartment without Goya.
