Cole leaned his forehead against Bella’s. “I’m not going to waste our time together talking about a woman who’s been out of my life for six years, especially when we’re both naked. If you’re not hungry, we can continue this in the bedroom.”

“I already ate.”

Bella didn’t say a word when he threw her over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. Less than a month sincehe’d met her, and she’d already blown his mind in a way Gretchen never did.

What would it take to convince her a relationship was worth a shot?

“This isn’t Wonder Burger,” Bella said as the cab drew up outside Carlo’s Italian. Perry had recommended the restaurant—family run, good food, not pretentious, he said.

“I’m not taking you to Wonder Burger dressed like that.”

The Porsche had been repaired, and Bella arrived at Uncle Mike’s place at eight thirty, five minutes after Cole. He always thought of the house in McNeil as Uncle Mike’s home rather than his because his heart lay in San Gallicano, but now the return to his peaceful beachside villa would be bittersweet.

Bella had climbed from the car wearing a slinky black wide-legged jumpsuit with a narrow silver belt, and he’d nearly suggested getting dinner delivered, but then he remembered that he needed to think strategically. His whole relationship with Bella was back to front. How was it that he knew she liked being spanked, but he had no idea of her surname? She hadn’t volunteered the information, and now he couldn’t think of a way to ask without it coming across as awkward.

He could hardly steal her purse and take a look at her driver’s licence, could he?

And time was ticking. Seven days until his return to Emerald Shores, and last night at the Galaxy had been so busy that he’d crawled into bed in the early hours, too tired to do anything but wrap his arms around Bella. Morning sex was his new favourite thing.

“Hmm,” she said as the cab driver opened the door.

What did “hmm” mean? “Is that good or bad?”

“The food is good. The owner’s wife runs front of house, and she gossips too much.”

“Do you want to go somewhere different?”

She huffed out a breath. “I’d rather get the talking part over with.”

Who had hurt her? Most of the time, Bella was brash and confident, but something else lurked around the edges. A hint of vulnerability? He saw it in the quiet moments, but she quickly tucked it away.

Damn, these thoughts were getting deep for a brief fling.

“Should I be offended?” he asked.

“Not really—I don’t enjoy making awkward small talk, period.”

“Small talk is always awkward?”

She didn’t answer, just hobbled toward the restaurant on her crutches, and Cole hurried to open the door. The host’s eyes lit up when he saw her, and then his expression turned puzzled.

“Did you make a reservation, ma’am?”

Bella shrugged.

“Where’s the rest of your party?”

“Right there.” She jerked a thumb at Cole, and he got the impression she would have folded her arms if it weren’t for the crutches. “It’s just him tonight.”

“The reservation is in the name of Gallagher,” he supplied.

The host ran a fingernail down the page in front of him, then beamed and picked up two menus.

“Please follow me.”

The man led them to a quiet table in a dimly lit corner and pulled out Bella’s chair. Once she was seated, he fussed around with napkins and candles, completely oblivious toher scowl. Which only grew deeper when an older lady rushed over.

“Miss Bella! It’s just the two of you for dinner this evening?”