Page 6

CHAPTER 6

Mount Airy, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 12:45 a.m.

Vito looked at Gino across Tino’s dining room table. Vito had come as soon as he’d found someone to sit with Sophie and now appeared highly skeptical of Tino’s explanation of how they’d gotten Kevin Hale’s name, which Charlotte found to be no surprise. But she kept her mouth shut because Tino had done this for her. She wasn’t going to get him into any more trouble.

“You recognized him, huh?” Vito said, brows raised.

Gino nodded vigorously. “From Tino’s photo rendition of his sketch. Kevin Hale was in my shop class. We sat near each other, and I helped him with his senior project.”

“I see,” Vito said dryly, clearly not buying Gino’s explanation. “Did he ever mention Charlotte back then?”

Beside her, Tino relaxed a fraction. Vito might not have entirely believed Gino, but it didn’t seem like he was making a big deal about it.

“No,” Gino said. “Not that I remember. He didn’t say much of anything. Kind of a loner. He got easily distracted, I do remember that. Cut the tip of his finger off one day on a band saw. That’s when the teacher assigned me to him. I was supposed to keep him from chopping off anything else. But we didn’t talk much.”

“Did he want to do woodworking?” Vito asked. “Or was he just taking the class for a random credit?”

Gino pursed his lips, thinking. “I think he wanted to learn to build things. When he did talk, he mentioned building a house someday. In the burbs with a picket fence. He’d have a family. I’d forgotten that.”

“That’s good,” Vito said. “He ever mention anyone he wanted that family with?”

Gino thought some more then slowly nodded. “Said he had her all picked out. But he never mentioned Charlotte. I’d have picked up on that, if only because we were all mad at her at that point for breaking Tino’s heart.”

Charlotte fought the urge to wince. It was true. She had done that.

But Tino had called her Charlie. He’d held her like he cared. And even if they never got back what they’d had, maybe he could actually forgive her someday.

It wasn’t what she really wanted, but she’d lost her chance at that. Tino had offered her a family, but she’d thrown it away because she wanted adventure. She’d wanted independence. She’d been afraid of tying herself down to one person, even though she’d loved him.

She’d been a fool.

But you were young. You didn’t know.

No, she hadn’t known what she was losing the day she walked away.

Except that she had known. She’d thought she’d get over the loss, but she’d been so wrong. Young, foolish, and wrong.

She’d blown her chance, but he’d called her Charlie and that would be enough.

“Charlotte?” Vito said loudly, like he’d called her name a few times already.

She blinked. “I’m sorry. My mind is...” She rubbed her temples. “I got lost in my head. What was that again?”

“I asked about the emails you received from the prison. Didn’t you open them to see the name of the inmate who wanted to talk to you?”

She sighed. “This is going to sound vacuous and awful, but I forgot about Kevin five minutes after our last tutoring session. Never gave him another thought until tonight. If I saw his name in one of those emails, I wouldn’t have recognized it. I was away from home for the first time and going to parties and all that. I had to have opened the first email, but I just deleted the rest.” She grimaced. “And that wasn’t the name I thought of when I saw him, anyway.”

“What name did you think of?” Tino asked.

“Simon.” She was surprised to see both Vito and Tino flinch, like that name hurt them, and then she remembered that their Simon had been a vicious killer. “Like the chipmunk. His voice was very high. I almost called him that once but caught myself in time.”

“No one has mentioned a high-pitched voice,” Vito said thoughtfully. “It might be lower now that he’s older, but it’s worth asking Kayla. What else do you remember about him?”

“He always brought me flowers. Every time we had a tutoring session. I always took them by Aunt Dottie’s classroom. She loves flowers.” A new memory surfaced, and she sucked in a breath. “He saw them there once. He asked me why I’d given the flowers away. He was really mad. Made me a little nervous. He was taller than me. Skinny as a pole, but I guess he bulked up.”

“A lot of guys do while they’re in prison,” Vito said. “What did you tell him about the flowers?”

“I lied. I told him I had terrible allergies, but I didn’t want his gift to go to waste, which was why I gave them to my aunt. He seemed to accept that and calmed down.”

“How might he have gotten your email address?” Vito asked.

“I gave it to him so we could arrange tutoring sessions. It seemed wiser at the time than giving him my phone number.”

“It probably was,” Vito said. “And now we know how he knew to hang out at your aunt’s house, waiting for you. But if he did that, why wouldn’t he have just followed you home? Why go to Lombardi’s to get your address?”

Charlotte rubbed her temples again. “Most of the time I didn’t go straight home. I’d always get a late dinner after seeing Dottie. She eats dinner at, like, five o’clock, and she isn’t as adventurous with food as she used to be. Meat and potatoes are her thing. I’d be hungry again by the time I left and wanting to eat something more interesting, so I’d try different restaurants. But even if I was going straight home, I never drove straight there. I’m in the habit of driving around before I go home so that no one follows me. Part of the paranoia since the attack.”

“Understandable,” Vito said quietly. “Don’t be ashamed of habits that help you feel safer. You might have saved your own life.”

“But lost Mr. Lombardi and Mrs. Fadil theirs,” she said bitterly.

“I’m not going to tell you that it’s not your fault,” Vito said, “because folks in your position are never ready to hear it. I will recommend a good therapist.”

“I have one of those, but thank you anyway.” Her therapist was going to have a field day with all of this. She’d almost convinced Charlotte that there was nothing to fear.

Hahaha.

Vito smiled. “Okay. I’ll give Tino the therapist’s name in case you change your mind. Now, next question. How did he know you were back in town? You never told anyone in Memphis where you were going and you’ve done a very good job at covering your tracks. I had a hard time getting through the company you set up for your condo purchase, and I tried very hard.”

“At least I did something right.”

“You’ve done a lot of things right,” Tino said loyally.

Charlotte patted his hand. “And you’re being kind. I don’t know how he knew I was back in town. Could it have been a chance passing on the street?”

“Always a possibility,” Vito allowed. “But you eat out a lot, right?”

“For my job, yes. But I don’t review restaurants in Philly. I eat out here only if I’ve eaten at Dottie’s. If I’m not at Dottie’s, I cook at home.”

Vito tapped his tablet and turned it so she could see the screen. “Ever eat at any of these places?”

Charlotte scanned the list. “Only one. The sushi place. Why?”

“When?” Vito pressed.

Mentally she counted days. “Ten days ago. It was on Saturday night. I’d taken Dottie to the annual flower show and then we watched reruns on TV until she fell asleep. I was famished, and I’d heard good things about the place, so I went. Why?”

“Did you eat in or take out?”

“Ate in.” She scowled at him. “ Why? ”

“Because Kevin Hale worked there until ten days ago.”

Tino visibly startled. “How do you know that?”

“When you called me and told me Hale’s name, I called the warden where he served his time. He said that Kevin had said that he gotten a job at this sushi restaurant. I went there to speak to the owner before I came here,” Vito explained. “Hale was a waiter, but he got fired after walking out of the Saturday night rush. Offered no explanation. Just walked out.”

Bile rose to burn Charlotte’s throat. “He saw me there.”

“I think so,” Vito said. “Breathe, Charlotte. You’re looking awfully pale.”

Beside her, Tino took her hand and squeezed. “We’ll figure this out,” he promised.

She wanted so much to believe him. “Two people are dead and two others are in critical condition because I wanted sushi.”

Vito shook his head patiently. “No. It’s because Kevin Hale is mentally ill.”

Her eyes widened. “Clinically?”

“Yep. The warden said he was a sociopath who struggled with delusions while he was serving his sentence. The warden also said he was a loner except for the guy he shared a cell with. I’m going to see the cellmate myself tomorrow.”

“I want to go,” Tino said.

Vito shook his head. “Don’t ask me, Tino.”

“I’m asking. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to do. I’ve listened to victims recount their worst nightmares time and time again so that they could get justice. I’ve helped your department so many times. Now I’m asking you for a favor. Take me with you.”

Vito sighed. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Tino shook his head stubbornly. “No. Not okay. I’m going. And if you tell me no, I’ll figure out how to go myself.”

Vito closed his eyes briefly. “Tino.”

“He screams at night,” Gino said quietly. “Nightmares. That’s when he sleeps. Sometimes I swear he doesn’t sleep for days. Yet he still goes wherever the victims are, whenever you or anyone else asks. Don’t tell him no, Vito. Let him go. He doesn’t ask for much.”

Charlotte hadn’t considered the toll Tino’s work might take on him emotionally, but it wasn’t really a surprise. She’d sensed a heaviness to his spirit when they’d first seen each other in Dottie’s hospital room and again when he’d worked with Kayla, walking her through what had been the worst experience of her young life. That had to weigh him down.

Vito sighed again. “You guys are ganging up on me.”

“Yes,” Gino said. “We are.”

Vito rolled his eyes. “You can go. But not you, Charlotte.”

Charlotte shuddered in relief. “That’s okay. I don’t want to go.”

“Someone has common sense,” Vito muttered. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to hear or learn, Tino. The cellmate might not know anything. He might clam up or ask for considerations I’m not willing—or able—to provide. The DA’s not going to want to deal with this guy. He’s in for murder.”

“I don’t know either,” Tino said. “But I know I need to be there. Thank you.”

“Don’t make me regret it. I’ll leave as soon as I get the kids off to school. Tomorrow’s going to be the last day I have to juggle. Tess is flying in tomorrow to stay with us until the baby comes. She’s bringing the twins, so Dad is coming over during the day to babysit. My house is going to be Grand Central for the next few weeks, assuming Sophie makes it to forty weeks. I’m hoping for the full four weeks of craziness.”

“I can help, too,” Charlotte offered. “When I’m not with Aunt Dottie at the hospital, I can run errands.”

Vito’s smile was a little too sharp. “Thank you, but you’re going to a safe house.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I can’t. Dottie needs me.”

“Your aunt needs you alive ,” Vito insisted.

“We’ll stay with her,” Gino offered unexpectedly. “Tino mostly, but I can stay when he’s off to the prison tomorrow.” He grinned at Tino. “So many people thought you’d eventually do time. Now you will.”

Tino laughed. “Fuck off, asshole.” He sobered. “And thank you.”

Charlotte wanted to deny that she needed a full-time babysitter, but she was no fool. Not anymore. “Yes, Gino. Thank you.”

* * *

Mount Airy, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 1:20 a.m.

“Can I get you anything?” Tino asked, standing in his bedroom doorway.

Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, looking so lost. She lifted her eyes to his and his heart hurt at the misery she carried.

“No,” she said quietly. “You’ve given me a safe place to sleep. That’s all I can ask for.”

He took a step forward, then stopped himself. She needed space to process. He got that. But he didn’t want to give her space. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Wanted her to feel the beat of his heart.

Wanted her to know that he cared.

A lot.

She swallowed. “You don’t have to stay. I know you’re tired, too.”

There was a wistfulness in her tone.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, unable to keep his voice smooth and neutral. The words had come out husky and full of emotion.

Because he wanted to stay. Wanted to hold her every bit as much for himself as for her. He wanted to feel the beat of her heart, too.

“Would that be okay? I’m not expecting anything, Tino. I promise.”

What if I want you to expect something?

The words were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back. Not now. Not when she was vulnerable and hurting.

“Let me change into some sweats.” He pointed to the door behind her. “En suite bathroom is through there. Take your time. I won’t leave.”

Relief shimmered through her eyes. He’d said the right thing.

He’d be whatever she needed him to be tonight.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow, too. She was back in his life, a gift he hadn’t known he’d longed for. But he had.

She disappeared into the bathroom and Tino raced to change his clothes. He had to rifle through his dresser drawers because sweatpants and a T-shirt weren’t his normal sleeping attire.

Normally he slept in the buff. But not tonight.

And if that’s what she wants?

Nope. Not gonna go there.

But it was too late. His body already had gone there. He was hard and wanting and in a few minutes he’d hold her in his arms. In his bed.

No. He stared down at his erection, willing it to subside. He made himself think of gross things—bags full of garbage on the city streets in August. No, not bad enough. He was still raring to go.

How about that time his nephew Dominic had beer for the first time on his twenty-first birthday and threw up all over Tino’s shoes?

He grimaced, remembering having to throw the shoes away. Yeah, that took care of the erection.

He’d really liked those shoes, too.

The bathroom door opened, revealing Charlotte in clothing similar to his own. “Why do you look so disgusted?” she asked. “My sweats are clean.”

Tino chuckled. “It’s not you. I promise.”

She gave him an odd look. “Okay.” Nervously she eyed the bed. “Is it okay if I...?”

“Of course.” He pulled back the blanket, gesturing for her to get between the sheets, his heart pounding harder as she did so. He joined her, turning off the light and pulling the blankets over them snugly. It was supposed to be cold tonight, but his body was burning up.

Not a fever.

Just desire. Want. He gritted his teeth, willing his body to behave. But her presence in his bed took him back twenty-four years. Back to when they’d been young and reckless. Back to the first time they’d had sex. He’d lain awake afterward for hours, just watching her and marveling that she was his.

Could she be again? He was terrified to hope.

Charlotte lifted her head off the pillow. “It’s okay, Tino. I’ll sleep on the sofa. You take the bed.”

“No.” He rolled to his side to frown at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re so tense about being here. About sharing a bed with me.”

Tino sighed. “Well, I am, but clearly not for the reasons you’re assuming. Charlotte, you’re...well, you’re a beautiful woman. And I’m only human.”

Her eyes widened, and then her lips curved, surprising him. “Really?”

She sounded delighted.

He laughed. “Really. But I’m not eighteen anymore. I can control myself.” He sobered when her smile dimmed. “Charlotte, I’ll stay here with you. You are worth any discomfort.”

She exhaled quietly. “Thank you, Tino. I don’t deserve your kindness, but I’m so grateful for it.”

“Hush. You deserve kindness.” On an impulse, he held his arm wide. “Come here. Let me hold you. Maybe it’ll help both of us sleep.”

She moved closer until her head was on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, her body burrowing into his side. She was soft and warm, and she smelled like lemons. Her murmur of contentment made something within him settle.

He hadn’t been able to hold her like this often when they’d been young. Their parents had been eagle-eyed, not giving them opportunities to “get into trouble.”

Of course, their parents hadn’t known everything. They’d had a few stolen moments, holding each other just like this. Those, however, had usually been preceded by sex.

Which he was not going to think about. He was going to enjoy holding her until sleep took him and then he’d wake up and go to the prison with Vito to get some answers about Kevin Hale and the nature of his endgame.

“I felt like I was going to suffocate,” Charlotte murmured, completely out of the blue.

Tino tightened his hold on her. “What? When? Now?”

“No. When I was eighteen.”

Ah. This would be the explanation he’d been hoping for. He considered turning on a light, but it might be easier for her to explain in the dark.

It might be easier for him to hear, too.

“Why?”

She sighed, her breath warm against his shoulder. “My parents fought all the time when I was in high school. Dad hit my mother once. They stayed together for me. I’d lie awake at night and hear them screaming at each other, and it was awful.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad.” His own parents’ relationship had been okay at that point in his life. His mother had been critical of all her children, but if his parents had fought back then, he hadn’t known about it. It wasn’t until later that they’d discovered the lies his mother had told. Their family had never been the same afterward.

“It was. When they divorced a few years after I left for college, I was kind of relieved. I found ways not to visit home on the holidays. I mostly went home with friends. Anything to avoid my folks.”

“I don’t understand why you felt like you were suffocating.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just that every time I thought about marriage, I’d get anxious. I didn’t want marriage. I didn’t want what they had, being stuck together while hating each other. My mother would scream at him that she could have had a career if he hadn’t knocked her up. With me. She wanted to be a dancer, but she had to give that up when I came along. Then she was married and living in a house with a white picket fence and having meatloaf on Wednesdays.”

Which was what Tino had told her he’d wanted for their life together. “You didn’t want to be trapped with me.”

“ No. I wanted to be with you. But I was afraid that if I let myself have that, that I’d become my mother. You wanted babies right away and...I didn’t. I wanted to experience independence. My mother moved from her parents’ house right into my father’s house and she hated him for that. I loved you so much, but I was afraid of the life that you said you wanted.”

“I would have let you do whatever you wanted,” Tino said, then grimaced. “That came out wrong. I wouldn’t have let you do anything. You could have made the rules, and I would have done whatever you wanted. I just wanted you.”

“I know. But I still wanted to be on my own, for a little while. I look back now and see how foolish I was. I gave you up for what I thought was my dream, and I missed you from the moment I walked away.”

“But you couldn’t change your mind,” Tino said, hoping he understood and trying not to take her words too personally. “Because then you’d be trapped.”

“I guess. Like I said, I can’t explain it well.”

“Could you breathe? After you left?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, and he had to draw a deep breath because the single word hurt him. “But it didn’t last long. There were responsibilities wherever I went. Always someone who needed something. Friends, teachers. My parents. I thought I’d be free and everything would be easy when I was on my own, and in some ways, I was free, but...I missed you. I hated myself for hurting you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

“Because you were Tino Ciccotelli. You were prom king.”

“You were prom queen.”

“I was a dinghy, floating in your wake.”

He flinched then. He couldn’t help it. “Oh.”

She patted his chest. “I had no self-confidence then, Tino. I pretended. I was always pretending. I pretended my home life was happy, that I had it together. That I was up and bubbly and a cheerleader and all the things I was supposed to be. I thought if I had to pretend for another second that I’d crack into pieces.”

He held his tongue for a long moment, trying to get his words organized. Because this was a critical moment and he didn’t want to fuck it up. “Were you pretending with me? When you said you loved me?”

“No. That was maybe the only honest thing I did say.”

“You realize we were all pretending, right?”

She lifted her head to stare at him. “What?”

“I was self-conscious, too. I was Tino, but you were Charlotte. Charlie. Everyone wanted to be with you and I wondered why you’d chosen me. But we were teenagers. We all pretended to some extent.”

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

“Maybe not. And you felt how you felt. I just wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t know how. And I hated myself for that, too.”

He ran a hand over her hair, soothing her and himself, too. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to. I’d pretended for so long that telling you was too terrifying. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I did anyway.”

“You did,” he agreed. “But I lived. So did you.”

“I was stupid.”

“You were eighteen. We were all a little stupid.”

“I figured you’d meet someone else and get your house with a picket fence and meatloaf on Wednesdays.”

“I didn’t. No one was you.”

She inhaled sharply. “Tino.”

“Shh. It’s okay. We’re here now.”

“I’m broken now.”

No. He wasn’t going to let her say that about herself. “You’re stronger now. Do you still pretend?”

“Sometimes. Every time I went to a restaurant in disguise I was pretending, but that was...fun.”

“What about with your ex? Did you pretend with him?”

She said nothing for several hard beats of his heart. Then she made a thoughtful noise that vibrated against his skin. “No. When he wanted me to be a quiet wife who let him cheat, I left him.”

“Good. Do you still feel like a dinghy in anyone’s wake?”

“Not recently.”

“Good.”

“Do you pretend?” she asked.

“Yes.” The word snapped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“With me?”

“Yes,” he said more gently. “I’ve pretended that we were just friends and I don’t think that’s true. At least I don’t want it to be. But I didn’t want to frighten you off, and if we’re being totally honest here, I didn’t want to risk my heart with you again.”

“Same,” she whispered. “What can we do?”

He hesitated, considering his answer. “What do you want to happen, Charlotte?”

“I’d like to hear you call me Charlie.”

He swallowed thickly. “Charlie.”

She shuddered out a breath. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What else?”

“I’d like to see you. Date you. Like normal people who don’t have a crazed killer after them.”

He chuckled. “Okay. We should go on more dates.”

“More?”

He scoffed. “Like I haven’t taken you on a few already.”

“I’d hoped they were dates,” she said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You probably will. I’ll probably hurt you. But we’ll talk about it, Charlie. No running away.”

“I promise. Can...can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he whispered and held his breath.

She rose up on her elbow and brushed her lips over his. He closed his eyes and let himself feel. She was with him again after so long, and while he still didn’t completely understand why she’d left, he wasn’t going to squander this second chance they’d been given.

Her lips were soft, then firmer as she increased the pressure.

His pulse skyrocketed to the moon when she lightly licked his lips, and what had been a chaste kiss exploded into so much more. He slid one hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, moaning into her mouth when her fingers tightened in his hair.

Her hips rolled against his leg and he couldn’t resist her, his free hand running up her side, under the shirt she wore. Touching her soft skin. “God, I want you,” he murmured when she finally lifted her head, both of them breathing fast. “I’ve been hard for two days.”

She chuckled, a deep and wicked sound. “And I’ve been wet. Show me, Tino.”

He rolled, reversing their positions so that he looked down at her. “What do you want? I need you to be specific.” She bit at her lip and he tugged it free of her teeth. “Don’t be shy now, Charlie. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to...” She closed her eyes. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” he said seriously. “I need the words.”

She opened her eyes, and even in the semidarkness, he could see her determination. “I want you to make love to me.”

He exhaled, glad that he was lying down because he was certain his knees would have buckled had he been standing. “I don’t have condoms.”

“Yes, you do.” She rolled sideways to open his nightstand drawer, pulling out a strip of three condoms.

Condoms that had not been there earlier that day.

“Did you bring them?” he asked.

She blinked up at him. “No. Remember, I asked you for Tylenol when we first got here tonight, and you said to check the drawer. The condoms were just...there.”

Gino. His brother had to have put them there. It was the only explanation. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, Charlie. At least two years. And never here. Not in this bed.” He usually found women when he was traveling out of town, lonely women who knew he wouldn’t be coming back. He’d never lead them on. Anything else would have been cruel. “Those aren’t mine.”

Her lips curved in satisfaction. “Then I guess we’ll thank the condom fairies tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “Not on your life.” He rested his forehead against hers, the gravity of the moment sinking in. She was in his arms. In his bed. “I’ve missed you. So much.”

“Same,” she whispered. “Show me how much.”

So he did, kissing her until she was once again rolling her hips against him. He leaned over and turned on the light. “I want to see you.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it on a sigh. “No, you don’t.”

He wanted to insist, but she’d gone from passionate to miserable. “Why not?”

“I have scars. They’re not pretty. He...he cut me.”

Scars. Her attacker had cut her with her own knives. A part of him wanted to say fine, he’d turn off the light, but this was a big deal. “We said we’d communicate. Your scars won’t bother me. Your wrinkles won’t bother me.”

“I don’t have wrinkles,” she asserted, sounding mildly aggrieved.

That made him smile. “I do. I don’t care that we’re both forty-two years old. I’m not the boy you knew, Charlie. I’m older and not as toned as I used to be. But I’m here and so are you. You said you wanted me to see you. Let me do that. Let me see all of you.”

She nodded then. “Okay. Start as we mean to continue, yes?”

“Yes.” He kissed her until she was writhing against him once again. When she was panting and making the sweetest little sounds, he pulled her shirt over her head. And stared.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. And she was. Her breasts were fuller, her curves rounder. There were scars, yes. But not so many as he’d feared. He wanted to kill the man who’d put them there, but the bastard was already dead. He shoved his rage down, choosing to be in the moment. To be with her. “So beautiful.”

“You make me believe that,” she murmured back. “Your clothes, too.” She yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Humming, she ran her hands up his arms, caressing his biceps and his shoulders. “I dreamed of this last night. Dreamed of you.”

The rest of their clothes seemed to disappear, and then he was rolling a condom over his erection and sliding inside her.

It was like coming home. Everything felt so damn right.

He watched her as he began to move, cataloging every sigh, every hitch of her breath so that he knew how to make her feel amazing. And when she finally came, quietly chanting his name, he felt like a god.

His own release rushed over him in a wave from which he never wanted to surface. But eventually his heart began to slow and he rolled to his side, taking her with him. For long, lovely moments they just lay there, breathing in sync with each another.

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right back.” He went to the bathroom and dealt with the condom, then came back to a warm bed and a satisfied woman. She returned to his arms, her head once again resting on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “That was perfect.”

“It really was.”

She pulled away to look down at him. “For real?”

“For real. No more pretending, Charlie. For either of us.”

She settled back against his shoulder. “Good night, Tino.”

“Good night, Charlie.”