Olga points at Jackson, who is now running around trying to collect all his balls. We’ve accumulated a crazy amount of toys for him over the past two weeks when we decided to make this country safe house our home, and I don’t care if anybody thinks it’s fast.
“When you know, you know,” Luca said to me last night, his hands cradling mine, his breath touching me with each word. “I never had to guess with you, Lena. I never had to wonder if you were the one. It was the second you walked through that door, the second I saw you. It made me feel more alive than any gunfight. Hell, more than anything. It made me… you made me….”
We held each other so tightly after that. It was one of those moments that have been coming more often when I thought he was going to say it.
Those three words.
“How soon is too soon for I love you?” I mutter.
Olga giggles and sips her drink.
Izzy makes a groaning sound, sitting up.
“I guess this is a no-sleep zone,” Izzy says.
I laugh. “Sorry.”
She smiles, waving a hand. “This is more interesting. Why do you ask?”
“Are you worried about Luca?” Olga asks. “Alexis didn’t say I love you until after our second child. But he is a very mean man.”
We all laugh, knowing she’s joking and has an excellent relationship with her husband.
“I’m not worried,” I mutter. “It’s just there are these moments where I think he’s going to say it, but then he stops. And then I wonder if I should say it –.”
“No, you can’t,” Olga says.
And right at the same time, from Izzy. “Yeah, you have to.”
I throw my hands up as all three of us laugh.
“That’s so helpful. Thank you.”
“Why can’t she?” Izzy says, turning to Olga.
“You do not shoot first in a duel. Trust it from a lady who has been around twice as long as you.”
“But it isn’t a duel,” Izzy says.
“But it kind of is,” I mutter. “What if I say it, and then he doesn’t say it back, and then it’s left just hovering there between us? And even if he does say it back eventually, it’ll still be there, the fact he had to wait. So it’s better not to say it because there’s no risk.”
“But…he will say it,” Izzy says.
“How do you know?” I demand.
She whips her sunglasses off, sighing as she stares. “Okay, I don’t know. But I’m sure he will.”
I sit back, shaking my head as I close my eyes. The sunlight rests on my eyelids, and pretty soon, Jackson jumps up, curling up on my belly, making me think of how warm and filled with life I’ll feel when I’m pregnant by the man I love.
The only man I’ll ever love.
“Lena, you have to come with me.”
I blink my eyes open, struggling to see Luca in the lowlight. It’s late night or early morning, deep blue shining through the window. But Luca is a shadow otherwise.
“Is everything okay?” I whisper.
“It’s nothing like that,” he says, kissing my forehead softly. “But I need you to come with me. It’s important.”
“Is Jackson okay?”
“He’s with Olga.”
I nod, sitting up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “What’s going on Luca?”
“I need to take you somewhere,” he says in his husky and intense voice. “I’ve been thinking of ways to…but in the end, this is better than any gesture I could make, than any big act or whatever. So this is…will you come, Lena?”
“Yes,” I say, leaning forward and kissing him.
Kissing him like I have every day since we first made love. Our desire grows stronger every day, and there’s hardly any nervousness anymore. Maybe there are little moments, but I’m always able to overcome them.
With the man I love, anything is possible.
“Get dressed,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “We’ll take the bike.”
I stand up, nodding. I’ve ridden on the back of his motorcycle a few times since he brought it down from the city, but never at night. A thrill moves through me as I hurriedly pull my clothes on and then follow him downstairs.
Olga is asleep on the couch in the living room, Jackson in her lap. I wonder when she arrived. She and her husband only live a mile or so down the road, so it could’ve been anytime.
What is Luca planning?
My heart hammers faster as I get into the leathers, adjusting the helmet on my head. He climbs onto the bike, a tall cutting figure in his leather jacket and jeans, with wide and strong shoulders. His hair glistens like moonlight as he turns to me.
“Are you ready?”
My ankle pulses as though my tattoo is saying yes.
I’m ready.
To fly out of hell and find heaven instead.
“Yes,” I whisper, climbing onto the motorbike and holding him tight.
He guides the bike down the lane, lights shining brightly, taking us at a steady pace down the roads.