The darkness swirling in Nick’s eyes after I blurted out some of my family’s holdings makes my stomach clench and twist. Dread prickles along my spine like tiny demons marching up and down, stabbing me with their pitchforks.

Why did I admit that?

He told me his family owns a winery. They sell the wine at this restaurant, which doesn’t look too shabby, even though it has a more casual appeal. I guess I assumed that meant he came from a financially stable background. From the hard look in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw, I’m not so sure.

“Does, um, my family’s wealth shock you?” I ask, eyes on my red wine.

Nick lifts his hand and rubs at his scruffy chin. It reminds me of how good that hair felt against my mouth when he kissed me earlier. Makes me dream of it brushing against other places. I swallow around the lump in my throat and bring the wine to my lips.

He pauses my hand at the wrist, and I place the glass back down, wrapping my fingers around the thin stem.

“Shock? No. Not a lot shocks me. Surprise? Damn straight. You just don’t seem like that type of woman.”

In a normal situation, this kind of statement would make me unerringly happy. Right now, it’s confusing, and his tone borders on condescending.

“And what type of woman would that be, Nick?” I raise my chin and focus on his hard jaw and chiseled cheek bones. The Italian Stallion nickname is accurate on so many accounts. He’s hard, dark, and beautiful at the same time.

He lifts his gaze and smirks. “Hey, hey, now. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s just I’ve been around a lot of women in the past who wanted a guy with a heavy bankroll. Those are not circles I play in.”

No, no, no. He’s misinterpreting and turning things around.

He continues before I can stop his line of thinking. “I’m ex-military. I own a boxing gym. My office is a run by me, not a board of directors wearing five-thousand-dollar suits.” His gaze is sincere and sad at the same time.

I have to fix this. The last thing I want is for him to see me as a type of girl who thinks money matters more than happiness. Money has practically ruined my life. It did ruin Hannon’s. I grip his hand between both of mine.

“I’m not that girl, but I can’t change where I came from.”

He swallows and purses his lips. “Neither can I.”

The waiter chooses this moment to bring our food. He sets down the manicotti and gnocchi at the top of the table and then places our salads in front of us.

I let go of his hand, putting both of mine into my lap.

Nick curls his hand around my nape. “How’s about we eat, continue our date, and let the chips fall where they may, huh?”

Hope rings eternal in my chest. I nod and offer a small smile.

“Okay, now let me get you plated up.” He lifts the manicotti and places a rolled-up stuffed noodle thing smothered in meat sauce onto my plate. Steam billows around the top, sending mouthwatering scents into the air. “Manigot.” He says the word with an Italian flare, pulling me out of the weird funk we’d entered minutes ago with our heavy discussion. “Have you ever had gnocchi?” He lifts the bowl and scoops some of the potato pasta and chicken onto the side of my plate.

“I think so, but it was square and pillowed looking.” I frown and use my fork to turn over the rolled potato.

He grins. “This place is the second-best place to eat Italian food in town.”

“Second-best? What’s the first?” I ask while he plates his own food. As much as I want to dig into the succulent-smelling food, my manners override my senses, and I wait for him to serve himself.

He flashes a sexy grin my way. “My mother’s kitchen, of course!”

We both laugh, and I poke a piece of gnocchi, blow on it, and put it into my mouth. A taste sensation explodes across my taste buds. The mixture of alfredo, blue cheese, and the potato pasta is utter perfection. “I don’t know about your mother’s cooking, but this is incredible.”

He takes a bite of his own and smiles around it. When he finishes, he nudges my shoulder. “This is good. Ma’s is unparalleled. Swear.” He crosses his heart with an index finger.

“Maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to taste it. Then I’ll be able to compare.” I cut into the manicotti, and the ricotta oozes out of the shell, tantalizing my eyes as well as my taste buds.

Nick doesn’t take another bite, just watches me eat. “Oh, I think you might be able to compare the food sooner rather than later.” He issues the statement almost like a warning. One that heightens my nerves and sends a little thrill shooting down my spine.

“Should I be scared?” I ask, actually thinking I might be scared already. I’ve never been taken home to meet the parents. The men I dated were in college. We’d have a couple dates, a handful of intimate times, and they’d move on.

What would Nick’s mother think of me? A dowdy, shy, woman with no job and no talent. I frown and prod my food, trying not to let my fear override the discussion. It’s not like it’s happening today.

Nick takes a large bite, chews, and ends with a smirk. “Absolutely. Ma’s a handful.” He answers my question about being scared. His response does not make me feel any calmer.

“Is she like Grace?” I smile, thinking of my new best friend. Her words, but I’m starting to wish they were true.

He chuckles. “Gracie is a ball of energy for sure. My mother is that, times a thousand, but armed with a wooden spoon or a spatula. She’s always cooking.” He shakes his head and spins his wineglass.

“Is that her favorite thing to do?” I want to know more about his family. They sound so down-to-earth and real. The exact opposite of mine.

Nick sips his wine and leans back. “Yeah, I’d say cooking is way up there, along with being judgy.” He chuckles, but I am not laughing in return.

“Why, um, is she judgy?”

“Because she’s a Catholic, guilt-driven, Italian mother of six. She’s got nuthin’ better to do than get all up into her children’s lives.” He chuckles.

I frown. “Why does she care?” My mother hasn’t even realized I’ve moved out, and it’s going on a week.

Apparently that question rattles Nick, because he turns in the booth and focuses on me and not our dinner. “She’s a mom. She cares too much. From whether or not we’re sleeping well, to having a good job, to food in our bellies, to time spent on things we love. Then there’s the hugs and kisses.” He shrugs. “All good moms worry, poke, and prod their children, wanting the best for them. I’m sure your mother does too.”

Hugs and kisses. Um, no.

Cares too much? Not a chance.

Making sure I’m doing something I love? Ha! That’s a good joke.

Wanting the best for me? Only if it suits her purpose or my father’s business deals.

All of this reminds me I never canceled on the date mother had planned. I haven’t been home all week, and I don’t plan on ever going back. She never even bothered to call and find out where I went, when I’d be home, or why I’d taken most of my possessions. The date, though, that’s going to make her angry. A little snarky side to me I haven’t been acquainted with before grins evilly.

“Why are you smiling?” Nick brushes my bottom lip with his thumb. Just that little touch sends warmth and arousal spiraling through my belly. It distracts me so much, I answer honestly.

“I was supposed to go on a date tonight with a man my mother chose for me. She’s going to be mad when she realizes I ditched him.”

Nick squints. His voice is rugged and sharp when he responds. “You’re dating someone else?”

Wait, what? I shake my head. “No. Goodness, no.” I’m still shocked Nick asked me out and wants to see me. I’d never date two men at once.

Nick’s jaw tightens, and he sits up straighter. “Then explain.”

An uncomfortable feeling settles heavily in my stomach, making the food I’ve eaten rather nauseating. I curl my hand into a fist, pressing my thumb into my palm, searching for the jolt of pain I need to push through. I scratch at the spot with my nail, trying to pierce the skin.

“Well, my mother wants me to see a man she thinks is good for the family business. I don’t want to see that man. I want to see you.” My entire body is tight, tremors of unease sliding along my skin as I wait for him to speak.

Instead of getting mad or being the growly Nick I’ve seen a few times already, he tips his head back and laughs heartily. So much so, he tucks an arm around his waist and holds his ribcage with the effort.

Um, not the response I expected, but I guess it beats anger. Slowly, that knot inside me untwists just a sliver, and a glimmer of hope eases along my psyche. “Uh, Nick? What is so funny?”

He laughs a bit more, and I watch as his skin turns a rusty gold and his cheeks pinken attractively. He’s so masculine. From his muscled forearms, up his large biceps to his corded neck, every flash of tanned skin I see makes me want to lick and bite it. A shiver skips its way through my limbs, making the space between my thighs heavy and needy.

Nick presses his thumb and forefinger of one hand into his eyes and then rubs his face. “That’s a classic Mom maneuver! She trying to set you up.” He smacks at the table. “My ma’s tried that with every Italian woman’s daughter from her bunco group. Nice to see that your mother is no different.”

I blink and try to understand what he means. My mother wants me to marry for business, and Nick’s mother wants him to marry an Italian woman.

“I’m not Italian.” I toss this out because nothing else he says makes any sense.

He grins widely. “It’s okay. We’ll tell her you’re five percent. It’s enough. Trust me. A white lie goes a long way with my ma. She may not believe it once she meets you, but she’ll go with it to make herself feel better.”

“Are you saying, if I’m not Italian, your mother isn’t going to like me?”

Oh my, that’s almost as bad as the idea of me bringing Nick to meet my parents. Which incidentally will never happen. They would absolutely not approve. If he’s not worth seven figures or more, he’s unworthy of sharing space with a Carmichael. At least according to Judi and Timothy Carmichael.

Nick wraps an arm around my shoulder and tucks me in close. “She’s going to love you. Don’t worry. You’ll come to dinner next Sunday. Do you know how to cook?”

I’ve never cooked anything in my life. We had servants for that. And in college, I ate in the cafeteria or went out. Now all of my meals are made and delivered by the hotel. Not wanting to dig a deeper hole with Nick, I give a little shake of my head and bury my face into the front of his shirt. He smells so good. The leather scent reminds me of the plush leather seats in his muscle car. The hint of citrus is lighter tonight but still there, hiding in the background. I breathe him in, wondering if it’s the last time I’ll get this close. There’s nothing smart about attempting to be with Nick, regardless of the way he makes me feel. He’s everything good, strong, and right in the world. He deserves a woman who’s worthy of his attention. I am not that girl, but I’m too selfish to not let this play out a little longer. The memories of this time with him will be such a beautiful spot to revisit when I’m lonely.

“Eh, it’s okay. If she asks you Sunday night, just dodge the question and ask to help. She loves a woman eager to assist.”

“Why?”

He rubs his lips against my temple and kisses me there. I close my eyes and soak up what could be the last time I experience this.

“Because she’s the boss.”

“Not your father?” I question.

My father is king and my mother is his willing, evil queen. She does his bidding and is the perfectly put-together socialite. Everyone in my mother and father’s circle wants to be like her. It’s impossible to live up to her standards when the bar is set so high.

Nick chuckles, and the movement has me sinking deeper against his side. I set my hand along his hard chest, appreciating the thump of his heart against my palm.

“Not a chance. My mother rules the roost, and my father brings home the bacon.”

I hum against his chest, taking it all in. His family sounds colorful and, if Nick and Grace are anything to go by, rather lovely. Except meeting the rest of them seems daunting. I’ll need to discuss it with Dr. Hart before I can commit to it, if we’re still seeing one another by the end of next week. The more he gets to know the real me and sees there’s nothing much there, he’ll lose interest like every other man I dated back in college.

“Are you done eating?” He kisses my forehead when the waiter leaves the check.

I nod, realizing he’s cleaned his plate, but I didn’t eat very much. He brought up so many things I want to think about, most of which make me nervous and twitchy. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now that the date is ending. The easy answer is to slip into oblivion the only way I know how. I hate the thought the second it flashes across my mind. Worse, I despise myself for thinking it. More reason to open my flesh and let the ugly out. I dig my thumbnail into my palm much harder than before. A sharp pinch of pain courses through my hand and up my arm, bringing with it waves of blessed relief. Thank God. I sigh against his side and let it wash over me.

Nick eases away, and the warmth from his body leaves me feeling cold and detached. He pulls out his wallet and sets a few twenties into the black bill holder.

“Come on, Dove. It’s time for the second half of our date.”

His comment spins around my mind, drawing me back to the here and now. “There’s more?” A flicker of renewed excitement comes to life inside my chest.

He smirks, and that sexy tilt of his lips makes me want to drown myself in all that is Nick Salerno.

“Of course! Come on.” He holds his hand out, and I take it, knowing if Nick holds out a hand to lead me somewhere, I’ll follow blindly. No questions asked.

---

Nick opens the passenger door and helps me out of the Camaro like a true gentleman. I stand outside the car and look up at the brightly lit sign. “Hole-in-One Mini Golf.”

I smile widely and bite my lip. Before I can speak, Nick has me pressed up against the car. He lowers his face and leans his entire body against mine, which forces a small whimper to escape my lips due to the sheer ecstasy of his nearness.

“Mmm, I like how you respond to me, Dove. Means you’re going to be dynamite in the sack.”

I lick my lips and close my eyes, imagining our bodies naked, all over one another. Nick doesn’t make me wait long. He presses his lips against mine so softly, I have to lean forward to get more. He grins against my mouth as I take the hint. He wants me to lead the kiss this time. Lifting up onto my toes has our pelvises aligning more directly. I can feel Nick’s hardening length through his jeans. He groans, tips his head, and runs his lips along the column of my neck. A river of pleasure skitters along every one of my pores until I swear I can feel him…everywhere.

“You’re so soft and sexy, Honor.” He pushes his nose into the space where my neck and shoulder meet, nuzzling me there.

A ribbon of pleasure skims through my form, making me squirm and thrust against his hard body. I want more. I need more.

A subtle breeze chills the spots where Nick has kissed. I shiver, wrap both arms around his body, and run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. Each strand is like satin, flowing through my fingers.

“Fuck! Can’t get enough of being close to you.” Nick’s tongue comes out, and he licks the length of my neck and across my clavicle. I can’t recall a man licking along my skin with such dedicated purpose.

My skin feels electrified, hot, and arousal wets my panties. I groan, unable to take it anymore. I want this man more than my next breath. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I wrap my other hand around his chin and force his face up to mine. I smash my lips over his. Within a nanosecond, he opens his mouth on a moan, and I take full advantage, licking him, sucking my fill. I plant the flat of my tongue against his and taste him, opening as wide as I can, starved for this man who’s been driving me to distraction these past couple weeks.

The eager way I take his mouth, suck on his tongue, and bite at his lips has him reacting like a man ready to throw his woman over his shoulder. He runs his hands up and down the length of my back until one comes down over my ass and along the length of my denim-clad thigh, where he hikes my knee up to his waist. He curves his hips toward my center, rubbing his erection over the place I need him most.

I rip my mouth away from his, taking in as much air as possible. He doesn’t stop, pressing me hard against the car, rubbing his length against me while his mouth nips and bites at the top of my breasts.

All I can think about is the two of us, no clothes, and a bed. “Want you…” I whisper into his ear and bite down on the sensitive cartilage.

He squeezes my ass in a bruising hold, grinding me on his cock. “Fuck yeah.” He groans, runs his other hand up my shirt to my breast. He plumps the flesh, molding it in his hand. “Love your tits. Can’t wait to get my mouth on them.” He kisses the plush tops and licks along the edge of my bra line.

“Get a room!” comes a random voice, followed by a bunch of male chuckles.

Over Nick’s shoulder, I can see a group of three teenaged boys, gesturing and laughing at us.

“Fuck her against the car, man!” one says and whistles.

“Hell yeah!” another boy calls out with a fist pump to the air.

I flush all over, my skin feeling even hotter than it was with Nick pushing against me. My brute allows me to drop the leg he had pinned while his body starts to shake. I hide my face against his neck, panting, attempting to calm the raging arousal consuming me.

Nick’s laughter fills the air, and he places a sweet kiss along my neck before curling both his hands around my nape so he can lift my chin with his thumbs. He moves in and kisses me once, twice, three times sweetly before curving an arm around my shoulder and tugging me to his side and around toward the park.

“Guess we got carried away there.” He squeezes the ball of my shoulder.

I wrap an arm around his waist because it feels like the thing to do, and anything that keeps me close to Nick makes me happy.

“Yeah,” I offer shyly, watching our feet move toward the entrance.

“Are you embarrassed?” He nuzzles against my neck but keeps us moving forward.

I shrug and nod at the same time.

He laughs. “Nuthin’ to be embarrassed about. We’re two consenting adults who can’t keep our hands off one another. Frankly, this is a new experience for me. I rather like it. Not in any hurry to take the edge off either.”

I stop walking and turn in his arms until he stops and focuses on me.

“This is new for you?” I ask, wonder and awe in my tone.

He puts one hand on my shoulder and pushes a stand of hair behind my ear with the other. “Yeah, babe. I don’t get all hot and bothered up against my car all the time. I don’t get hard in restaurants just from being close to a woman, and I certainly don’t get wood while teaching yoga.”

That bit surprises me. I hadn’t noticed him getting hard in any of those places, except at the car when I clung to his body like a leech.

“Dove, it’s all you. You do that to me.” He head-butts my forehead and smiles. “You make me lose my mind. I’m crazy about you.”

“I don’t… Why?” I have to know. None of it makes a lick of sense to me. I mean, I know I feel that way about him, but I’d never assume in a million years that Nick would have even a scant inch of the same desire for me. Of course, he’s told me I’m pretty, and he likes my body. He’s made that clear, but what he’s saying goes far beyond that.

“Honor…” He looks deeply into my eyes. “Babe, who hurt you? What man made you doubt your effect on the opposite sex?” It’s practically a whisper in the wind because I ignore it the second it comes out.

I shake my head and try to move out of his arms so I can get away and find the space I need. Nick doesn’t allow it.

His voice alters, becoming softer when he continues. “Ah, don’t worry, Dove. I’m going to erase everything that came before me. Starting tonight. It’s me and you. In this together. Wading through the landmines of relationship stuff and enjoying the hell out of one another. How does that sound?”

I lick my lips and glance up. His eyes are honest, dark, and filled with courage. He could get me to agree to anything with just one look.

“Okay.” I say it, but I’m not confident I mean it. I don’t know what being in a relationship means. I’m not sure how to react, what to say and do. “This is new for me,” I admit and drop my head, looking down at my feet. There’s dust around the toes of my suede boots from the rock-and-gravel lot surface, but I can easily wipe them down. Wipe away the grime. I wish my internal filth was so easy to remove. My scars included.

Nick chuckles, causing me to lift my head and meet his gaze. “Honor, I’m so far outside of my comfort zone with you, I don’t know where the hell this is going or how to get there. All I know is that I want to go there with you. Is that cool? Can we just do our own thing? No preconceived notions about what should and shouldn’t be?”

The question wars in my head and twists around into him wanting to be causal. I understand casual. That’s all I’ve ever had. “Are you talking friends with benefits? Did you want to see other people too?”

His head jerks back, his jaw getting tight right in front of me. Uh-oh. Not the right question. I step back, and he follows.

“No one but me is touching you. Got it?”

I swallow and nod quickly.

“And all this”—he gestures from his chest and down his ripped body—“is all yours, if you want it. We’re exclusive. So fucking exclusive, you tell your mother you are off the market. Got me?” His words are as harsh as sandpaper over metal.

I nod, but his words ripple through my mind on repeat.

Exclusive.

All yours.

Off the market.

Little flickers of excitement pound a heavy beat in my heart. I’m going to need to spend some serious time dealing with this in therapy. Thank God my appointment is in a couple days.

“I want words, Honor. Give ’em to me. Say, I’m yours, Nick. You are mine. For as long as we both want this.” His tone is deathly serious. “Words, Dove.”

I clear my throat. “I’m yours, Nick. You’re mine. For as long as we both want it.”

“Good girl. Now hold on to your man. Let’s play some golf. Have you ever played mini golf?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Wonderful. Then I’ll teach you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Nick. I’d like you to teach me everything.” I smile and glance up at his profile, bowled over by how masculine and graceful his genetics made him. I’ll bet his mother and father are stunning too.

He looks down at me and grins. He’s so beautiful, I want to kiss him again. He shifts his head down and steals my idea, planting a quick, hard kiss. “That’s good, Dove. I’m an excellent teacher.”

“I’ll bet you are.”