Page 116 of What About Love

“I hate to quash your hopes, but we’re very new and still feeling our way. I was an acquaintance through friends then a co-worker, and he wasn’t interested in anything romantic until recently. It’s way too early to pin your dreams on something long-term. He’s been dead set against relationships, marriage and family, and now I have a better understanding of why.”

Her face fell. Angie reached for her hand again, covering it with her own as she squeezed.

“He says he won’t ever remarry, which means no grandchildren for me.” Sophia sighed. “He’s my only child.” She surveyed Angie speculatively. “Still, with you, I see a glimmer of my old Tonio. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that I haven’t seen in over ten years. I can’t help thinking he’s still in there, somewhere, waiting for the right woman to coax him out. I pray you are that woman,bella.”

As Angie walked up the steps to the Commerce Building, where Rossi was housed, she passed the beautiful stone fountain out front, continuing on through the stately portico that led to the lobby beyond. She barely noticed any of it, concentrating on the sparkle Sophia had mentioned.

Angie had seen it, too. But she had also seen the flip side, the glint of steely determination, the regret, and now that she knew his story, the residual anger and enduring pain. Worse, she’d witnessed when he shut down and went into protective mode, locking his injured and shattered heart away somewhere. She didn’t know what the uncertain future held for them, but she doubted his dreams were anything close to her own.

Chapter 26

CHEST HEAVING AS SHEgasped for air, Angie clung to him as the last shivers of climax passed through her body. Too limp to move on her own, she let T reposition them until she lay wedged between his long frame and the back of the couch. With her head cradled in the crook of his arm, she breathed in a deep breath, trying to recover her ability to speak.

His recuperative powers far exceeded her own. While nuzzling his face in the bend of her neck, he said in a deep voice, without so much as of a hint of pant, “That was one helluva welcome home.”

Belatedly, not counting thefuck, yeahsand theharder, Ts, she realized those were the first words either of them had spoken since he’d arrived at her door nearly an hour ago. When he walked in and tossed his keys on the table by the door, their eyes met and with desire arcing like electricity between them, words seemed unnecessary.

His smoldering, appraising gaze had swept down her body. In short shorts and a tank while doing her weekly cleaning, she was without makeup and her hair was a mess, half out of the loose knot she’d twisted in to keep it out of her face. He didn’t seem to mind. As he moved toward her, she resigned herself to another frenzied joining against the wall, which she didn’t actually mind. She’d take him anyway she could have him. But he exercised enough restraint to make it the five feet it took to carry her to the couch.

He snuggled her closer, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear before whispering, “I missed you like hell, darlin’.”

She smiled, remembering what his mom had told her about him as a boy.

“What’s funny?”

“Not funny but sweet. Your mom said you were a cuddler. It’s nice.”

His head came up, his brow furrowed. “When did she say that?”

“Uh—” She’d outed herself, so she had to tell him. “The other day over lunch.”

He shifted up on an elbow and peered down at her. “You had lunch with my mother?”

“Um, yes. She stopped by the office while you were out of town and was kind enough to ask me.”

“And what did you two talk about over lunch?”

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