Chapter 8

Tony had a dish towel over his bare shoulder and was flipping pancakes when she walked into the kitchen the next morning. “You look good in my kitchen,” Francesca said.

Tony smiled over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

She stretched her arms high and yawned, her body still close to his. “Fantastic.” She reached for a blueberry and popped it in her mouth. “You?”

He didn’t reply, just reached for her waist, pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head.

“I didn’t picture you as a wake-up-early-and-make-breakfast kind of guy.”

“I’m not. Not normally. But I wanted to have a big breakfast before my workout later with Cain. I haven’t trained this hard for a fight in a long time,” he said as he handed her a plate of food and then sat down to his own mountain of food.

“God, you’re a really good cook. Is it just breakfast foods you do?” She was chewing on a crisp piece of bacon and pouring syrup on her pancakes. Damn¸ had bacon ever looked that sexy?

“Nah. My mom taught me how to cook; you’ve just only caught me in the morning. I’ll make you dinner soon. Some nice and fattening Cuban food.”

“Sounds heavenly.” She cut into the pancakes and moaned when she took a bite. “So good.”

He chuckled. “What do you have planned for today?”

“I have to deal with the insurance company and with Fred from Grid Iron.” She reached for a stack of papers. “This is costing us a fortune. Fred is milking this.”

“You know,” he said, taking a gulp of orange juice as he leaned back in the chair, “I have an interest in a commercial gym in Miami. We could always train there.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony pushed his chair back and took their plates to the sink. “What, you thought I was just a pretty face and a hot body?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve invested. Diversified. I have an interest in a big chain of gyms. It’s not ideal to train there because it’s usually full of people working out and there’s no ring or cage, but the equipment is top of the line and it has an actual roof instead of a gaping hole.”

She pouted at the mention of the devastated gym.

“C’mere.” He reached for her hands and pulled her up. He ran his finger along her bottom lip. “Last night was unbelievably great.” He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. “And trust me when I say you were not bad. But I think…” He paused and looked in a drawer. Her brow furrowed. When he found scissors, he lifted the hem of her long T-shirt and cut the sides of her panties until they fell to the floor. She was so shocked she didn’t speak. “So, as I was saying. I think we should do it again. You know…for practice.” He smiled before getting down on his knees, which hurt. Everything hurt in the mornings these days. But he didn’t care; what he was about to do would be worth the pain he’d suffer for the rest of the day.

“Uh…”

“Shh. Time for another lesson.” He threw her leg over his shoulder and pressed his lips to her knee, running his face up her leg, until he reached the perfect wet spot. Her head fell back in pleasure, and she reached behind her to grasp the counter. He parted her intimate lips and kissed her clit before he began to suck. She almost buckled, but his grip on her thigh tightened. He looked up and saw her eyes fixed on him. He tongued her clit until she was writhing against him. “I want you to come on my mouth,” he said as he slid a finger into her and continued to suck. She grabbed his hair and pulled him against her as her thighs began to quake. He knew she was coming when his scalp pricked from her grip on his hair. She became even wetter against his mouth as she yelled his name over and over again.

Tony wiped his face against her thigh before kissing it. He unhitched her leg from his shoulder, straightened her shirt, and stood. The look on her face couldn’t have been clearer. It wasn’t clouded in fear or nervousness; it was confident and translucent. She wanted him. There was no doubt about it. A surge of male pride hit him; he’d gotten her to relax and enjoy sex. He’d done that. And he couldn’t wait to do it again.

“That pussy of yours is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

“Not better than the pancakes, I’m sure.”

“Have you lost your mind, woman? Pussy trumps pancakes every single time. Fuck, pussy trumps almost everything every time.”

She laughed.

He raised an eyebrow. “I know that look.”

She shrugged and pulled him to her bedroom. Once inside, she pushed him on the bed. “Do you mind if I explore?”

He scooted back and put his arms behind his head. “Explore away.” He loved how she was slowly becoming more comfortable with her sexuality.

She climbed onto the bed and sat next to him on her haunches, running her fingers across his chest. “I didn’t think I’d like this.” She pulled some of his hair.

“What? Chest hair?” he asked, and she nodded. “I’m hardly hairy.”

“I know. It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen before. It’s…manly. I like it.” She continued to let her hands roam across his body. “Actually, I think you have more hair on your face than on your chest.” She leaned down and kissed him before moving lower on his body. When she got to his nipples, she squeezed and played for a few seconds. “Does this do anything for you? Is it just a woman thing?”

Fuck, the woman was going to kill him. She could use his body to explore, but it was going to take a lot of self-control for him not to come before she finished her exploration.

The words came out a little hoarse. “Yes. It does things for me. In fact, don’t stop.” She leaned down and kissed his nipple. Then she looked up, her hazel eyes on him, while she bit none too gently on his nipple. He almost jumped off the bed, and she laughed. She kissed, tweaked, and nipped both nipples before moving down. He got up on his elbows a little to see where this was going, although he was pretty sure he knew exactly where it was going. She stood at the edge of the bed and pulled his pants down, together with his boxers. His dick twitched.

She chuckled. “I think it wants to play.”

“I think you’re right.”

She went back to sit next to him and grabbed his dick in her fist. At first the movements were inexperienced, but she quickly got the hang of it. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help wondering if she’d done this with Rodrigo. She leaned down and kissed the head of his cock, then looked up at him, and all thoughts of her past vanished. What’s with the look? Is she asking for permission? He was rolling out the red carpet; she didn’t need a formal invitation. When he didn’t protest—and, really, what man would protest a blow job?—she took him in her mouth. It was slow and gentle, but it didn’t feel inexperienced. It felt fucking fantastic. She continued to move up and down, sometimes with her tongue, other times sucking, as her hands pumped him up and down. When she began humming against his dick, his hand reached down and he almost pushed her head down, but didn’t. This was her show, so he fisted the sheets instead. “Fuck, Francesca, I’m coming. If you don’t want to swallow, you better take my cock out of your mouth right the fuck now!”

She looked at him, then sucked harder and pumped faster as she lapped up every single drop of him. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I think I prefer pancakes.” He reached for a pillow and threw it at her, making her laugh.

Francesca walked into the Grid Iron later that day to check how the guys were doing in their temporary facility.

Slade saw her come in. “Hey, Frances.”

“Hi. How are things going? You think the place will work? It’s so small.”

“It’ll work for a few weeks. We’ll make do. Fred’s worked it out so his guys and our guys aren’t here at the same time.”

“That’s good.” Francesca looked over at Tony. “How’s he doing?”

“Better than a few months ago, but he still needs to focus, and he needs to start working on his wrestling skills, since Rodrigo’s a jiu jitsu guy.”

Francesca walked over to where Tony and Cain were sparing. Tony was looking good—fit and toned, light on his feet—as he deflected Cain’s jab.

“She’s wearing her armor,” Cain said.

Tony turned around and smiled when he saw her. His eyes scanned her body encased in a pantsuit and pumps. “Good time for a break.”

“No. No break. Pretend I’m not here,” she said.

“I can’t.” He tried to reach for her. “You smell good and look even better.” But she sidestepped him before he could pull her close. She didn’t really want everyone knowing about their…sex…relationship…dating? Whatever it was they were doing, she didn’t want everyone to know just yet.

His immediate reaction to her rejection showed on his face. Maybe she should’ve kept her distance, or at the very least made sure it was casual—no hurt feelings, no harsh words exchanged. After all, he needed to know that she was still his boss.

“I wanted to see how the training’s coming along.”

“Going great,” Tony said.

Cain just grunted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Francesca asked Cain.

“Piss-poor floor skills.”

“I’ve been working on my floor skills,” Tony protested.

“Not enough.”

“Rodrigo is a black belt at Brazilian jiu jitsu,” Francesca retorted. “He’ll crush you if he takes you down. You already lost once because of it. We don’t want it to happen again. You need to work on that.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what I need to do, cariño,” he said, irritated. “And you certainly don’t need to compare me to your ex-husband.”

What the fuck? That wasn’t something everyone needed to know. She was a very private person, and even though it wasn’t really a secret, she didn’t want it discussed at work. “Guys, can we have a minute alone, please?” Francesca asked Cain and Slade.

“Shit just got real,” Slade snorted. “Hate to be you, brother.” He playfully slapped Tony’s shoulder.

When they had walked away, she crossed her arms over her chest and got closer to Tony. “In here, I’m not cariño. I’m Francesca or Frances. We will not talk about my ex-husband or anything personal. You’ll respect me and you’ll listen to me. I have too much riding on this.”

“Well, Francesca, if that’s the way we’re going to play it, then fine. Here I’m Scarface, the kickboxer who’s won five heavyweight titles and the guy who doesn’t need some chick telling him how to train.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Some chick?”

His arms were crossed, matching her posture. “Yeah, some chick.”

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. “Dick.”

“Nice. Is that how you treat your fighters? Real professional, cariño.”

“You’re being a real jerk. Just because we went on a date and had sex doesn’t mean I have to act differently with you in here.”

“It wasn’t just a date. I’ve seen you naked. You came on my face less than five hours ago. Yes, I think I’m entitled to have a different relationship with you.”

“You’re disgusting. Stop talking about what happened last night—”

“And this morning,” he interrupted.

She tapped her foot on the floor, looking ready to strangle him. “You need to focus on the shit you have to do now. Like getting your ass on the floor and working on technique.”

He reached forward and ran a finger down her neck and across her collarbone. “You worry about running the gym, I’ll worry about training.”

She huffed before turning and walking away. If that was how he wanted to play it, fine by her. She stormed out of the gym, went back to her house, changed into her workout clothes, and drove back.

Within twenty minutes she was standing eye-to-eye with Tony again.

“So what? Now you’re my girlfriend? Are you like Wonder Woman? Different clothes, different people?” He snorted out a laugh. Cain and Slade looked amused and surprised by the word girlfriend.

She was pissed. “Girlfriend?” she huffed. “Right now I don’t even like you. And I told you, in here I’m not someone you’re sleeping with.” So much for everyone not knowing her business, she thought. “I came in here to show you how much of a hardheaded asshole you could be and also to show you exactly how much you suck on the ground. Hope you’re ready, Scarface.” She said his name mockingly.

Slade grabbed a chair and sat down with a smile. “This is gonna be good.”

“How are you going to show me?”

“We’re going to grapple.”

“You”—he pointed at her, then to himself—“and me?”

“Yeah.” She repeated his gesture, pointing to him and then to herself. “You and me.”

“So, what, I punch you and then you wrestle me? I don’t think I like that idea.”

“Unlike you, I know my strengths and weaknesses. I won’t stand here and pretend I can go toe-to-toe with you in boxing or kickboxing. So no, you’re not going to punch me, but I am going to take you down.” And just as he was about to guffaw, she swept her long leg behind his and bent her body so that he was down, flat on his back, in less than three seconds. Another half second later she was sitting on his chest, pinching his cheeks. “Can we admit that we need to work on our skills?”

He tried to turn her over and get the upper hand, but she possessed techniques he didn’t have. “Here’s where I’d blind you by punching you in the nose and flipping you over. But I can’t punch you, so it’s not really a fair fight.”

She peered down at him. “Bet you think the problem is that I’m on top. Think that’s what gives me the advantage?” In one swift motion, she flipped them around so that she was now on the floor. From below, she pinched his cheeks again while wrapping her legs around his in an unnatural way. “If I flex my right leg, I’ll pop your knee.”

He was about to say something sarcastic, but she put a little pressure on that right leg and he grunted in pain. “Okay, fine! Fine!”

She released his leg and pushed him off. Cain and Slade were all smiles. “Cain is trained in jiu jitsu, so you’re in good hands.”

Cain stood and prepared to take over. She smoothed her hair and waved at Tony, who was red in the face, with his nostrils flaring. “See you later, honey.”

She straightened her shirt, winked, and took off.

What the fuck was the woman doing? Was she having a party? A very somber party? It was later that evening, and Tony had gone straight to her house after leaving the Grid Iron. Tony pounded on the door as hard as he could, but she didn’t answer. He was pissed and embarrassed from the earlier episode where she’d kicked his ass, but he was also impressed.

A melancholy ballad was blasting through the front door, and he could hear her singing loudly. There was no way she would ever hear him. He went around to the backyard and saw Francesca through the glass sliding door. His mouth fell open. The woman who was usually in a perfect business suit, never one hair out of place, never without makeup, was wearing the rattiest pair of gray sweatpants he’d ever seen, cut off right below her knees. She was barefooted and wearing a loose-fitting WtF T-shirt, her red hair was a matted mess atop her head, and the dorkiest black-rimmed glasses he’d ever seen sat low on her nose as she belted out the ballad.

He stood on the other side of the glass door to watch. His arms were crossed over his chest and he had the biggest smile on his face when she turned around and saw him. She did a double take, causing her to drop the vase she was holding, and screeched loudly. He moved quickly, relieved to find the door unlocked.

“Jesus Christ!” She had both hands on her chest, twisting her shirt. “Burro do caralho! Son of a bitch! I almost had a heart attack.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He closed the door behind him. “Now you’re cursing in Portuguese. Nice. Don’t move.”

“Why didn’t you knock?”

“I did.” He stepped carefully, the glass shards crunching under his shoes. Before she had a chance to protest, he lifted her up into his arms and set her on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t have shoes and there’s glass everywhere.”

“Can you bring me my slippers, please? They’re by the front door.” She looked miserable. He nodded and laughed when he saw a fuzzy purple pair. He approached her with the slippers dangling from his fingers. She reached up to get them, but he held them higher. He needed a moment to take her in. He was certain he’d never again see her looking this…casual. Jovial. Breathtakingly beautiful.

She got to her knees, trying to reach up, but he just held them higher with a grin.

“Tony. Come on, please. Give ’em to me.”

“Just a minute.” He smirked.

She let out a breath, as if deflating, and slumped down. Then she tilted her head up slightly, and with one eye looked at him.

“Can you please tell me, what’s with this?” He waved his arm around.

She groaned and let her face fall against the couch cushions.

“Can you breathe?” he said with a laugh. “You know you can’t actually crawl into the couch, right?” He smiled, and she groaned again.

He sat down beside her, and she scooted over. “I’m waiting.”

“I think I’ll risk cutting my feet.” She went to move, but he held her arm, preventing her from getting up. Then he grabbed her feet and swung them around to his lap. “I have to tell you, cariño, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”

She snorted, then tugged at her shirt and tried unsuccessfully to fix her hair. “Uh…yeah. Sure.”

“I’m dead serious.” He put the slippers on her feet but didn’t let her go. “But what’s with the music? It’s super-depressing.”

She began to chuckle, which turned into a full-out laugh. She reached into her pocket, took out a small remote, and pointed it behind her, turning the music off. “It’s called ‘Say Something.’ I love this song.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You didn’t hear me through that godawful singing.”

She hit him on the chest and he grabbed her hand, holding it against him. Her hazel eyes held his stare for a moment before she averted her gaze and tried to pull her hand away. “Well, I guess it’s good I turned it off, ’cause the next six songs are by Adele, and if you think this is depressing, you don’t want to hear Adele, or my butchering of her awesome voice.”

“Then you turned it off just in time.” He let her hand go when he noticed she was fidgety. He was making her nervous again. She stood and went to get the broom and dustpan. “And what’s with the clothes?”

She looked down and then began to sweep. “I wasn’t expecting you. You didn’t call, and I thought you were mad at me for what happened in the gym today.” She concentrated on picking up glass.

He stood up next to her. “You thought I was mad, so you didn’t call or anything?”

She shrugged. “If you don’t want me, what am I supposed to do, beg? Men don’t like the whole girl-does-jiu-jitsu thing, and I am who I am. So if you don’t like it, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me again.”

“I think it’s time we talked.” She shrugged. “Where’d you get the impression I didn’t like you in any way, shape, or form?” She shrugged again. “Haven’t I made it obvious that the feistier you are, the more it turns me on? Today, with you tapping me out, I was pissed because, shit, a girl tapped me out…but it was sexy. Your strength and confidence are sexy, Francesca. And I have to admit, your skill is very impressive.”

“It is?”

He nodded. “So I want to know what’s going on with the clothes situation.”

“What do you mean? I already told you, I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“I don’t mean to bombard you with questions, but I’m just trying to reconcile the woman I’ve known for months and this one. I mean, you seem more like yourself right now than you do in those snooty clothes. Why’s that?”

She groaned. “You know where I grew up. I was one of the guys, and I don’t mean it in a cutesy kind of way. I mean, I made guys cry. I’d enter a competition, and all the guy knew was that he was fighting somebody named Frankie, then I’d show up and they never saw it coming. So a few times I made some of the guys cry. Guys stayed away from me—romantically. They didn’t seem to mind when I was around the gym, but no one ever saw me as more than Frankie who could kick ass. Then I started noticing the guys and I wanted them to notice me. But they didn’t—except for Rodrigo. He was always able to look beyond the gym shorts, sneakers, and T-shirts. Until he started sleeping with all the pretty ring girls and the groupies. Then we divorced and I wanted to be as different from Frankie as possible. Someone men would want—not trampy like the groupies, just someone who was…feminine. So I started dressing up, wearing makeup. I found that I liked it. I liked how it made me look, how it made me feel, how it made men take notice. How I got respect. I never want to be that person again, the frumpy tomboy with no friends. So I left her behind.”

“Oh, cariño.” He cupped her face. “This is going to be hard to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Francesca, obviously you’re not the frumpy tomboy anymore. But what friends do you have?” She winced. “Let me finish. You’ve been slowly developing friendships, but you’ve been here for months and it’s taken you forever to open up just enough to allow a few people in. I’ve had to claw my way in. Your clothes aren’t the problem. You need to be yourself, not some persona you’ve created who’s a standoffish version of the beautiful woman I’ve come to care about.”

Her lips quivered and she looked away, but he gently turned her face back toward his. “My beautiful girl.” He kissed the corner of her lips. “You’re going to be okay, you know? But you need to start finding some happy medium between Frances and Frankie, because otherwise no one will ever get to know the real you, and cariño, the real you is someone people should know. The real you is an incredibly strong woman with a big soft heart.”

“Thanks, Tony.” She turned to face him.

“And the eight-year sex hiatus?”

“I did date. I kissed a few guys. I wasn’t a nun or anything. I did go out, but never more than a few dates before breaking it off. Usually they broke it off since I didn’t put out. I was afraid of getting too emotionally attached and getting hurt again, and I don’t trust men not to hurt me, so it just became easier not to date. What’s the point of sleeping with someone and putting my feelings on the line just to get heartbroken again?”

“Isn’t it better to try than to close yourself off completely?”

“I’m scared of letting my guard down and letting you in,” Francesca admitted.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I know, honey.” She caressed his back. “It seems that whether I like it or not, I’ve already let you in. Or should I say, you’ve kind of snuck up and let yourself in.”

He laughed. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, and he reached down and gave her a tender kiss on the lips, then kissed her eyes, nose, and forehead. “I’m kind of scared too,” he said before taking her hand and leading her to her room. Slowly he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. Francesca stood awkwardly beside him and watched him take his shirt off and push his boxers down, leaving him standing naked. When he was finished he sauntered over to her and pulled her shirt off her in an equally leisurely manner. Then he hooked his fingers under the elastic of her simple white panties and pulled them down her legs. He walked her over to the bed, where she lay down and he climbed on top of her. His forearms were on either side of her face, and he was stroking her cheeks with his thumb. He brought his head down and began kissing her. Whenever the kiss became frantic, he’d slow it down. He reached one hand between them and began to touch her. She tried to writhe under him, but the weight of his body on hers didn’t allow for it. He put his hands back by her face and slowly slid inside her and began to move gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tony,” she whispered, her voice strangled with emotions.

“I know.” He shifted down and kissed her lips tenderly. “I know.”

Her arms went around his neck, bringing him closer. Their bodies fused together as their hearts followed. He could see the emotion in her eyes. He felt it too.

Francesca’s ankles locked together around his hip, bringing him even closer—which seemed almost impossible. His hand began to trail down her body, stopping at her nipples. The pressure was building and she wanted—no, needed—a release, but he wasn’t speeding it up. As he continued to move inside her, his hand began to caress and pull her nipple, making her writhe in pleasure.

“I know you feel you always have to have the upper hand. But just let go—let me take care of you. This is going to be good for you. And it’s going to be damned good for me. It already is, because you’re here.” His lips trailed under her ear, and his sensuous words were making her crazy. But she knew she probably wouldn’t come because he was going too slowly; she also knew he wouldn’t come until she did. She remembered how Rodrigo hated when she took too long. Even though sex with Rodrigo hadn’t necessarily been bad, it had been lackluster. It was something that they just did. She experienced orgasms, but it was normally always the same: insert tab A into slot B and repeat. She’d always wondered if her lack of experience and zest had been the reason he’d strayed.

She didn’t want Tony to be turned off by their sex life. Even though she probably wouldn’t come, she wanted him to believe she could, because for the first time in a long time she wanted things to work out with a man. She wanted to please him, and a man like Tony wouldn’t be pleased if he couldn’t please his woman. She began to moan and clench her muscles. She needed him to believe whatever it was he needed to believe in order for him to come back for more. She squirmed and whimpered some more. “Oh, Tony,” she whispered breathily.

He stopped suddenly. Her eyes shot open in confusion. “Tony!” She hit his back. “Keep moving! I was about to come.”

“Bullshit.” He pulled out of her, reached behind him, unwrapped her legs, and sat up. “Listen up.” His voice was stern. It was the opposite of a bedroom voice, and it caught her off guard. “You’re not going to fake it.” He reached under and pulled her ass forward and parted her thighs further apart. He pushed back inside her, but in this position she felt very exposed and very vulnerable. “There’s no rush. I can do this all night, so don’t fuck with me by trying to fake it.” He thrust a little harder and ran his free hand along the length of her body, feeling all her curves. His callused hands sent a jolt through her body. “You are going to come for me, Francesca. But not yet. Right now you’re just going to close your eyes and feel.” He continued to caress her body as he worked himself in and out of her. “My hands on your neck, on your nipples…your stomach…” His hands went lower and lower, and so did his voice. It was barely a whisper. “Your pussy…” With that he began to rub her clit as he pumped in and out of her. “You’re so wet. I don’t know why you tried to fake it. I bet if I told you to come right now, you would.” She closed her eyes, and he continued to speak as he rubbed. “But I won’t. Just feel.”

The tension was building to insurmountable levels and she was beyond the point of return. The man had some serious skills. There would not be any faking it. She was squirming for real now. She could feel a sheen of sweat begin to form behind her neck.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. She did, watching him lick his fingers, the same fingers that just seconds ago had been rubbing her. “Fuck. You taste so good.” He placed his hand back down there, opening her thighs wider for him. And when he licked his own lips she was a goner.

It was an out-of-body, universe-altering, mind-blowing, cataclysmic experience.

He groaned as he too met his release. Then he let go of her thighs and collapsed on her. She’d never again even think about comparing this man to Rodrigo.

“What’s with the beard? You look like a bear.” It was five days later, and Francesca was sitting on her bed putting on her shoes.

He playfully rubbed his cheek on her neck and face, causing her to giggle. “I don’t know. You don’t like it?”

“It’s…different.” She ran her fingers through it. “It’s kind of growing on me.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been sleeping here for days now. Shaving hasn’t exactly been a priority. You’ve kept me pretty occupied. For someone who’s supposedly inexperienced, you’re wearing me out, woman.”

She grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. “Shut up.”

He sat down next to her. “What do you have planned for today?”

“I’m going to the Grid Iron to check up on things.”

“I don’t like it when you go there. I hate the way the guys look at you.”

“What guys? You’re being crazy.”

“Not our guys so much, but the other guys. The ones from the Grid Iron.”

“Honey, this jealousy thing you got goin’ on, it was cute for like five seconds, but now it’s annoying. Stop it.”

“I know, I know.” He let out a breath. “It’s just, you know…” He pointed to her outfit. “I guess I can’t convince you to change into something more…?”

“A bag over my head?”

“Something like that.”

She wrapped her hands around his waist. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” He placed a kiss on her head.

“What are we doing?”

He looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“You. Me. What is this? We’re not in a relationship—and believe me, I don’t want to be in one—yet you get all jealous? I don’t get it. The night of Chrissy and Jack’s wedding, you said you didn’t do relationships. But I’m pretty sure you’d flip out if I went out with someone else.”

He stepped away from her. “I’m going to speak slowly so that I don’t lose my temper and so you don’t mock my accent.” He paced around the room a little before speaking again. “First off, were you planning on going out with someone else? Is there someone else? Did you want to go out with someone else?”

“That seems like a first, second, and third off,” she said, laughing. “No. That’s not what I meant and you know it. There hasn’t been anyone for a long time, so no to all those questions.”

He relaxed his shoulders. “Okay, good. Second question: How would you feel if I dated someone else?”

“You better not be dating anyone else!” she hissed.

He chuckled. “It seems we have to break things down with you when it comes to relationships. I don’t want to hear anything more about that night at the wedding. I told you already, I want to forget it happened. I was obviously stupid.”

“I don’t want a relationship, I told you.”

“Cariño, I’m gonna tell you a secret.” He brought his mouth close to her ear. “We’re already in a relationship.”

She pushed back. “No. I—I don’t want that. You are not my boyfriend. And you don’t want to be my boyfriend.”

“I’m thirty-four years old; I don’t like the word boyfriend either. How ’bout lover?” he said with a smile.

“Shut up, Tony. I’m serious.” She walked away, but he grabbed her and drew her to him.

“I’m serious too. I like you. I like you a lot. For the first time in a long time, I’m okay with this whole relationship thing. I want to see where it goes. I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t want to fuck around anymore. This last week with you has been great. Don’t you think?”

“I guess.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Francesca. I like spending time with you and it doesn’t scare me. It feels—well, it feels right, actually. You don’t want to label it, that’s fine, but I know that I don’t want to be with anyone else and I certainly don’t want you to be with anyone else. You can’t stand there and tell me you don’t agree with me.”

She groaned. “I don’t like it when you make sense.”

He laughed. “I know you don’t. You like me riled up, talking fast, mispronouncing words.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him down. “That accent is sexy.” And then she kissed her boyfriend.

“I’m going to go for a jog and then I’m going to get some clothes from the hotel.” He kissed her head again. “Then I’ll meet you at Grid Iron. You can wait for me to train, and we can have dinner after. Then come back here. Or maybe you won’t want to wait, since you’ll have been there already for a few hours. Maybe I should just meet you here and—”

“Whoa! Slow down.”

“I don’t want to go back to that cold hotel. Don’t make me,” he pouted, and she laughed. “Come on,” he whined. “Your bed is so much better than the hotel’s. And I’ll cook for you in your barely used kitchen. I like being here with you, and I need you to unlock the front door for me, so I’m trying to figure out some logistics.”

“So it’s not me, it’s my comfy warm bed and quick access to my kitchen that you like.”

“Exactly.” He grabbed her butt. “And I like the quick access to all your warm womanly parts more than the quick access to your kitchen. Although the food is a bonus.”

She chuckled and walked to a drawer in her kitchen and pulled out a key. “Here.” She handed it to him. “Since I barely understand you half the time, giving you a key is just easier than trying to understand your logistical logic.”

He closed his hand around the key as if it was the greatest treasure he’d ever been given. “You’re so sexy when you try to pretend you don’t want me around all the time.”

She patted his shoulder. “I don’t. It’s just easier this way. You can come in and go out whenever you want.”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, right.”

Francesca reached for Tony’s wrist and snapped the rubber band on it, causing him to flinch. “Ouch! I find these things all over the house. I meant to give it to you.” He handed it to her.

She put up her hair in a ponytail. “I know. I leave them everywhere.” She kissed him on the cheek sweetly.

Before walking out, he yelled over his shoulder, “You’re totally falling for me, Francesca Silva, and I can’t wait to see your reaction when you figure it out.”