Page 33 of Love, Untangled

They reached the broad promenade and Pen stopped, facing him. Her chin lifted. “What do you want, Carlo?”

He studied her again, his expression settling into sadness. “I hurt you.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “And embarrassed me. So why would you think I’d bring Alpaca Man by ever again?”

He looked out at the sea. His profile was strong, thanks to his Roman nose and full lips, his jaw sharp, softened by the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. The wind ruffled his hair, reminding her of images she’d seen of Poseidon.

“I told you before that I wasn’t interested in dating.”

“Yes, I remember,” Pen said. His words stung then and they hurt now.

“Well, Cora’s the reason. My wife. She died. In a fire. It started at a house down the street, but because of the drought, it spread quickly. Cora never had a chance…”

Penelope inched closer, resting her palm on his forearm, unsurprised to find the muscle rigid. “I’m sorry.”

He swallowed hard. “Me too.” He shook his head. “I took vows. Vows I always planned to keep. But she died.”

He said the last with bewilderment mixed in with the sadness. Pen removed her hand and remained quiet. She took in the soft lap of the waves, the squeals of the children playing in the surf, the cry of a gull. It would make a beautiful tapestry. Pastoral and soft—remind people of good times.

Except Pen wasn’t serene and she wasn’t having a good time. Her heart hurt for Carlo…and for herself. She wanted more—more than he’d be able to give her. It was her turn to swallow the rough-edged emotions burning in her throat.

“Then I met you.” He touched his fingers under her chin, lifted her head. “And I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t… Even before Hattie played that trick with the spice…”

“I’m angry with everyone about that too.”

Carlo grunted. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know about this crazy spice that makes couples fall in love until Hattie told me about it.”

“But you don’t want to love me,” Penn blurted. “I mean…it’s a silly legend, right?”

Carlo’s lips quirked upward and his expression softened. “Before you, I’d forgotten how to smile.” He brushed her bangs back, his fingers gentle. “My Sunshine. You make everything brighter, better.”

“That’s the spice talking,” Pen scoffed. She had to. Otherwise…

Otherwise, she’d melt against him, tip her chin up and brush her lips over his. Because for Pen, her feelings hadn’t changed. She’d been attracted to Carlo from the beginning—well, she’d found him attractive even when he was grumpy, but she started truly desiring him when he brought her bread and fixed her hand…and fed her. Carlo cared, and Pen was starved for that type of affection. She knew it, which was why she’d tried to steer clear of him. Because falling all the way in love with him would be no harder than breathing.

She was already halfway there.

“No, it’s not the spice. Well, not completely. At this point I don’t know what to believe.” He continued to study her features, his eyes their own warm caress that she felt just as strongly as if he’d touched her with those callused fingertips. “You filled my thoughts, made me smile from the beginning. I…” He met her gaze, his eyes burning and shadowed. “I care about you, Penelope. I never expected to feel this way about another woman. It’s confusing.”

He paused, tugging his lower lip into his mouth. His teeth weren’t quite straight, and that slight imperfection charmed Pen more.

“I lashed out at you because you make me feel…” He lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. The wall of muscle warmed her palm and kicked up her heart rate. “I’m not sure I’m ready for how much, how deeply you affect me. But no, Sunshine, it’s not the spice. It’s you.”

She leaned in closer, her lips parting. Desire tightened his features but he eased back.

“I want to spend time with you. Like we did before. You and Alpaca Man.”

She cleared her throat, trying to uncloud her pheromone-drunk mind.

“He hasn’t had any belly aches?” Carlo asked.

Pen shook her head, mystified that she was still standing there, seemingly unable to get her feet to move. “He really seems to like your fruit. And it is considered a treat. He’s going to be so sad when the season is over.”

“He’d probably go for those pumpkins your grandmother used to grow. I think I saw a few volunteers in the garden.”

Unbidden, a smile bloomed, and Pen felt lighter. Pen clasped Carlo’s wrist, squeezing it. “Thank you for caring for him.”

Carlo brushed her hair back, away from her cheek. “I’m glad to. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. This past week I’ve done every chore I can think of but none of it makes me happy. Not like spending time with you. Let Alpaca Man come over,” Carlo said. “He likes to roam, and I like his company too.”

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