Page 37 of Forging Caine

Our first time together in Naples had set a poor precedent for our relationship. I’d been there for ten days. When he visited at Christmas, it was also two weeks—followed immediately by two weeks in Italy. “Technically, we’re both leaving in less than two weeks.”

“But we’re both leaving and then coming back—” He yawned again, either the orgasms or the jet lag draining him.

“Together?”

“I love this word. Together,” he sighed, his arms growing heavy. “I need a nap before we head back to work.”

I stroked my fingers over his chest, glistening with beads of sweat. “You haven’t done any work yet today.”

He squeezed tighter. “I’m fairly certain I just did some very important work.”

“Incorrigible.”

“Sì, this is true.”

My phone pinged from the bedside table, a special sound for the building’s security app. Antonio’s did the same from somewhere on the floor where his clothes had landed.

“Crap.” I rolled over to see what the front desk wanted, whether it was important mail, more groceries, or a change in the cleaning schedule. Part of me wanted to complain about being waited on, but that was why I’d lived in a hotel for more than half of last year—room service and housekeeping.

“Ignore it.” Antonio patted the empty space next to him, not even opening his eyes.

The app said we had a visitor, and when I switched to the lobby’s security camera, I bolted up from the bed. “Fuck.”

Antonio’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“It’s Janelle.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes again. “Tell her to come back later. We have other priorities.”

“She’s in uniform. This isn’t a social call.” I snagged Antonio’s pants from the floor and threw them at him, then hit the button to have her sent up. “Get dressed.”

“Che cazzo. Why’s she here?”

“I don’t know!” I hauled my pants on, grabbed my shirt, and hurried into the bathroom. I had to clean up. No time for a shower. Fix my messy bun, which had turned into a disaster. Get dressed. “We’ve only talked about business, always at the police station.”

Antonio headed into the massive closet, which adjoined both the bedroom and the bathroom. “You two are still dancing around each other?”

Officer Janelle Williams and I had grown up as best friends and had a complete falling out in college. We hadn’t spoken until last summer, when we worked together on a fraud case. The same one I met Antonio working. Fraud was apparently good to me.

“Hey now!” I poked my head into the closet, ready to blast him for not understanding how difficult making up was for me, but was struck by how good he looked in his jeans and black T-shirt with its tiny DG logo.

“Too casual?” he said with a smirk.

“Honestly? Mouth-watering.” I shook my head to regain some focus. My jeans and bra look would not cut it, so I nipped into the bathroom and hauled on my shirt. “I screwed up with her big time, even though it was an accident.”

“You’ve never told me the details.”

With my shirt on, I undid my bun and retied my long hair into a low ponytail. “And now’s not really the time. She’s on her way up.”

“You could leave the hair down, you know.” Antonio leaned against the door frame between the bathroom and the closet.

“I could, but it’s a pain in the ass while I’m working.” I separated my ponytail in two, wrapping the halves around each other instead of braiding it. “Maybe I should cut it all off and wear it short like Cass’s.”

“I’ll take the ring back.”

I paused in wrapping the pony around its base, unable to contain my laughter. “No, you wouldn’t.”

How was it suddenly so easy? Was the rapid fire progression of our relationship really a given, like he’d said it was?

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