Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (42 page)

BOOK: Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3)
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When she finally pulls back, she sees he’s smiling down at her. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking about you in that origami class the other day. You’re really great with kids.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you think you’d like to have kids of your own someday?”

Her eyes widen as a spike of adrenaline rockets through her. She knows she needs to tell him about her infertility before things get even more serious in their relationship.
I should do it now. I can’t let this go on.

“My mom called me at the hospital yesterday,” he says. “It was only a short conversation, but I think she’s changing her mind about all this. Our arrangement.”

“Really?” She blinks with astonishment.

He nods. “It turns out my dad has reconsidered, and he’s been talking to her about it.” He smirks and rolls his eyes. “She said something crazy too.”

“What was that?”

“That you and I would make beautiful babies together.”

Lindsay’s throat goes tight. She tries to smile, but it feels like she’s doing it from a million miles away. “Why would she say such a bizarre thing?”

“Because I told her about us.” His blue eyes go to hers. “That we’re involved, and that I’m in love with you.”

She tries to take a breath. “I can’t imagine she was too pleased. I don’t think she likes me.”

He shrugs. “Apparently, she approved of the way you handled that nanny business with your sister, although I thought the whole thing sounded nuts.”

She knows she has to tell him the truth, how they will never make beautiful babies together, how that particular hand will never be played.

But somehow she can’t find it within herself.
Not yet
. It’s such a lovely fantasy that, for a little while longer, she wants to live it, wants to pretend she’s seeing it from his point of view.

Giovanni studies her. “Is everything all right?”

Lindsay licks her lips. “This is happening so fast. I’m the one who swore I’d never get married again, remember?”

“Hey, we’re just taking things at our own pace. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“I’ll try.” She does feel nervous though. In truth, she’s way past the point where she would have left any other relationship.

“There’s one other thing I wanted to tell you about.” He gets a mischievous grin on his face. “I’m not sure what you’ll think of this, but it turns out Seattle Children’s is participating in an upcoming fundraiser. Its theme is the Roaring Twenties. There’s an auction and a poker tournament.”

“You’re kidding.”

He’s still grinning at her. “I think you should enter. People can stake you, and all your winnings will go to whichever hospital you’re playing for.”

She considers it. “I don’t know if I can afford it. What’s the buy in? I still have school to pay for.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll back you. It’s for a good cause, after all.”

She gives him a long look. “You don’t care if everybody knows your wife plays poker? Some people might think that’s weird.”

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “It’ll be fun. They’ll
never
see you coming.”

She nods. “That’s true.” They typically never do. It’s always been one of her advantages.

His hands slide to her hips, and he pulls her in close. “You should teach me how to play sometime.”

“You don’t know to how play
poker?
” Her mouth opens with astonishment.

“No, not really. I played a couple times in college, but I barely remember it.”

“I didn’t know that.” It’s difficult for her to even imagine such a thing. It seems like she’s always known how to play. She remembers her dad teaching her card rankings when she was very young. “Sure, I could teach you.”

“But I want to play
strip
poker.” He waggles his brows, and she laughs.

They spend the next few hours each doing their own thing. It’s a warm Sunday, and Giovanni is outside in the backyard with his beloved fruit trees. Lindsay calls a few friends she hasn’t spoken with since she’s been back from Germany. Afterward, she goes out to talk to him.

“Listen, I just spoke with a friend of mine.” She stands next to where Giovanni’s building some kind of wooden trellis. “He’s going to come by today and drop off some of my stuff.”

“Okay.”

She doesn’t move, and he glances at her. “Is there something else?”

“He’s the guy I was living with before I went to Berlin. I just thought you should know that.”

His lips come together in a flat line. The hammer in his hand goes still as he appears to be taking in her words. “Why is he coming here exactly?”

“Because he has some things of mine. Some jewelry and some clothes. Plus, we’re still friends.” Her eyes take in the house and yard for a few seconds before going back to him. “You told me to treat this like my home, and I have been, in every way except one.”

“What’s that?”

“You probably haven’t noticed, but I haven’t had any friends over.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind if you have friends over. In fact, I’ve had invitations to socialize with colleagues recently, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that sort of thing.”

“I’m fine with it.” Lindsay looks down at her flip-flops. She recently painted her toenails dark blue. “Look, a lot of my friends are men.” She glances up at him. “I just get along with men. Don’t get me wrong, I have women friends too. But I’ve always had both.”

She can see Giovanni trying not to struggle with this news and doing a poor job of it. “I understand. You should invite your friends over, even if they’re . . .
men
.” He nearly chokes on the word.

She eyes him dubiously, but nods. “Okay, good.”

While she’s waiting for her ex-boyfriend to show up, she sits at the dining room table with her laptop, updating her artist blog and some of her other social media pages.

Giovanni’s already come inside the house twice, scowling and territorial. He’s like an alpha dog ready to stake his claim. Any second now, she expects him to start pissing on the furniture.

“It’s really no big deal,” she explains again. “I’m just friends with him still. That’s all.”

He nods with a grave expression. “Of course, I understand. No problem.” Though it’s obvious there
is
a problem.

By the time they hear a motorcycle roaring into their driveway, Lindsay’s worried. She’s dealt with enough men fighting over her that she already knows the signs beforehand.

“You know, maybe I’ll just get my stuff from Dylan out front,” she says in an offhanded way as she gets up. “That’s probably easiest.”

“Dylan?” Giovanni’s scowl deepens. “That’s his
name?

She nods.

He grumbles and says something in Italian, which she’s certain isn’t a compliment toward Dylan. “Tell him to come inside. I told you I don’t care. I’m going back out to work on the trellis.”

She watches him walk out the back door. He’s wearing those soft Levis she loves and a fitted blue T-shirt that says ‘UCLA Medicine’ on it.

Lindsay goes out front and finds Dylan there, just getting off his Harley. He unstraps his helmet, smiling when he notices her.

“Hey, Linds. It’s good to see you.” He comes over to give her a hug.

“You too,” she says, breathing in his familiar scent. They lived together for almost six months, and she’s glad they managed to stay friends. She’s had plenty of ugly breakups over the years, but this wasn’t one of them.

“You look good, sweetheart.” His eyes roam over her as he gives her a rakish grin. “Real good.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

Dylan is handsome, with sun-streaked blond hair and hazel eyes. He’s wearing torn-up jeans and a black biker’s jacket. They moved in together at his insistence, but this was back when she had lost her mojo and wasn’t feeling it with any guy. They tried to make it work, but the whole thing really never took flight between them.

“I’ve got your stuff.” He walks back over to the bike to open one of his saddle bags and retrieve her things. He pulls out a plastic sack and hands it to her.

“Thank you, I appreciate you bringing it by.”

“No problem.” He looks around at the house. “Nice place. So, it’s true? You really did get married?”

Lindsay nods. “It was kind of a sudden thing.” She’s not sure if Dylan is still in love with her, but she doesn’t think so. The vibe she’s getting tells her he’s over it.

“Very sudden, I hear.”

“We were swept away.”

He nods, chuckling. “Don’t worry, Linds. I’m happy for you.”

“Do you want to come inside the house?” Part of her hopes he says no, but the other part of her thinks maybe she needs to test Giovanni.
I mean, how is this ever going to work between us if he can’t handle me having friends over who are guys?

“Okay, but I have to keep it short. I’m meeting someone.”

She raises an eyebrow. “A hot date?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s kind of new, but so far it’s good.”

They head inside, and she doesn’t see any sign of Giovanni. She offers Dylan something to drink, and he accepts a glass of ice water.

“Really nice,” he says, nodding as he looks around. “I’ve always liked these old Tudor homes, and this one is a beauty. It appears your new husband has good taste in more than just women.” He winks at her.

“Do you want to meet him? He’s just out back.”

“Sure.”

Dylan follows her out through the back door to where Giovanni is still hammering away at something near the fence. Lindsay doesn’t know why she’s bringing Dylan out and hopes this isn’t stupid on her part.

As they get closer, Giovanni stops what he’s doing. She can see the way he’s taking Dylan’s measure. He’s still holding the hammer, and Lindsay is suddenly nervous.

Dear God, please don’t let this turn into a homicide.

She can see the news story already:
A well-respected pediatric surgeon is accused of murdering his fake wife’s ex-boyfriend in a fit of nonsensical jealousy. Fake wife says she hopes this doesn’t ruin their adoption plans. Fake wife also admits she loves the accused and says their marriage is ‘almost real’ anyway
.

Lindsay introduces the men, and they shake hands. Giovanni is wearing his usual tense expression and looks more like Thor than ever with that hammer by his side.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Dylan says. “And let me just say you have great taste in women.”

“Thank you.”

“And houses, as well. This is a beautiful Tudor. I’m guessing it was built around the early 1930s?”

“Thanks and yes, it was. 1934.”

Dylan asks a few questions about the house. Giovanni seems guarded, but still polite.

“I see you’re building a trellis.” Dylan nods down at the wood frame Giovanni was hammering a few moments ago. “Are you planning to add some fruit trees against the south fence there?”

“I am.” Giovanni is now looking at Dylan with interest. “Mostly apple.”

Dylan nods, his eyes roaming the back yard. “It’s an excellent idea. It makes perfect use of the space.”

“I thought so,” Giovanni agrees. “I’m still trying to figure out how many trees I can fit back here.”

“There are a few varieties of plum you also might want to consider.”

And before Lindsay knows it, the two men are discussing apple and plum trees and Giovanni’s plans for his mini orchard. She had no idea Dylan knew so much about fruit trees but then remembers his parents run a plant nursery.

After a short while, Giovanni seems to relax, and by the time Dylan tells them he has to leave for his date, her husband appears almost reluctant to let him go.

“You should drop by my parents’ store up in Shoreline,” Dylan says. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you a twenty percent discount.”

“Really? Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Lindsay walks him back out front to his motorcycle. When she comes back, Giovanni is in the house grabbing a bite to eat.

“You did very well,” she says, coming up and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” he says in a dry tone. “You should have told me he was a master gardener. I could use one of those right now.”

“It never occurred to me. He’s an architect, but I forgot his parents own a nursery.”

Giovanni cuts off a piece of salami and pops it in his mouth. “So, did I pass your little test?”

“I wasn’t testing you.” Her eyes go to the salami in his hand. “You know I haven’t seen you eat a single insect since we’ve lived here. Not even one potato bug.”

He smirks. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Okay, fine.” She accepts the bite of salami he offers her. “I just wanted to make sure you could handle it when more of my male friends come around to visit.”


More?
” He looks slightly queasy. “How many more are we talking about?”

“I don’t know, less than a dozen.” She laughs at his panicked expression. “Don’t worry, they’re not all ex-boyfriends.”

“Christ.” He shakes his head as he cuts off another piece of salami. “I’ll bet they’re all in love with you, though.”

Lindsay doesn’t say anything since she suspects a few of them are—not that she encourages it.

“Why didn’t it work out with that guy I just met? With
Dylan
.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. There was no sizzle.”

Giovanni meets her eyes. “We’ve got sizzle.” He gives her a sexy grin. “
Lots
of sizzle.”

She steps closer to him and steals the piece he’s just cut for himself. “We sure do, Olaf.”

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