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Which is true. I’m not exactly fond of dealing with all the red tape and state assessments and stupid crap that doesn’t actually teach kids how to read. But the kids themselves? I love them.
And Bridgewater is . . . fine. It’s comfortable.
“All I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. Truly.”
What started off as a talk about Jeff has suddenly become something bigger. My mom’s right. I did consider moving away after college, preferably to somewhere with a warmer climate. But I didn’t consider it for very long. My mother isn’t the type of person who should live alone—she’s too warm, too nurturing, too Mom. And maybe this Jeff guy isn’t that bad after all, but I’m not willing to adios on a maybe.
“OK, Mom,” I say, anxious to find a new topic of discussion. “What time is Jeff picking you up?”
She looks down at her phone sitting on the table. “In an hour. I better get—”
Mom is cut off by the doorbell. We look at each other, and she shoos me toward the door. I try to walk at a normal pace, as if I haven’t been looking out the window for the past hour. My heart pounds as I open the front door.
He looks even better than he did last night. I love him in a sweater.
“Morning,” he says, smiling. “Have time for a coffee before I head back?”
“Of course.” I step back to let him inside. “Let me grab my jacket.”
He closes the door behind him just as my mom appears in the hallway.
“Hi, Enzo,” she says warmly, giving him a hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Atwood.”
She’s told him a million times to call her by her first name, but he’d never do it. Would he change his mind if she was his mother-in-law?
Stop it, Chari. Way ahead of yourself there.
If Lisa knew I was thinking like that, she’d give me a look, and probably a talking-to.
“Where are you guys headed?” she asks as I open the coat closet.
“I was thinking Ledges for coffee,” he says, looking at me for my nod. I give it. “I have to head back soon.”
She asks about the business. He asks about her shop. Their familiarity is so strange, but it’s a good strange. Most of the guys I bring home haven’t known my mom their whole lives.
“Ready,” I say, shrugging into my coat. “Have fun, Mom. And be careful.” I turn to Enzo. “She’s going skiing.”
“Nice. Didn’t know you skied. Is Devon coming with you?” he says, laughter trailing his voice. Everyone remembers his broken arm.
“Definitely not.” She smiles at us both. “Have fun, kids.”
It’s something she’s always said to Devon and I, and to Enzo too, come to think of it, and there’s something charming about hearing it now, even though we’re obviously not kids anymore.
“Same to you,” he says with a grin, standing off to the side so I can walk past him.
“Later, Mom,” I say.
His car is waiting for us, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never get over the novelty of having a driver cart me around. Still, I won’t deny it’s a welcome opportunity to be alone with Enzo. He pulls me to him as soon as I close the door behind us, and I don’t protest in the least.
Before I can even process how close he is, or the warmth of his touch, he’s kissing me. I open for him immediately, the touch of his tongue becoming more familiar. But it’s not enough. Last night was even more frustrating than New York.
Fact is, I want him like I’ve never wanted another human being, and I know he feels the same. Moaning against my lips, he pulls away.
“Six days,” he says, looking deep into my eyes.
I make a mental calculation, confused.
