and I can’t read his thoughts. I want to read his thoughts. “Should I guess what you’re thinking now?” It’s out before I can stop it. Oh God, what was I thinking?
He leans closer. “Are you ready for that?”
Heat rushes up my neck. “I’d better leave it to my imagination.”
“Not mine?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Not yours.”
“All right then,” he agrees, sitting back, his mood turning from sultry to conversational. “You only have one sibling?”
“Yes. One. You?”
“It’s just me.”
Just him.
I cut my gaze, with the bite of fear I cannot escape. It cannot be just me now. It can’t be. Gio has to come home.
“Hey,” he says, softly compelling my attention.
My lashes lift and I look at him, swimming in the deep blue sea of his eyes.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks. The question surprising me, telling me he sees me, really sees me, when I have spent a lifetime trying to be invisible to everyone but Gio. This awareness between us is both thrilling and terrifying. Gio is gone, but Kace is here. And Kace has a unique connection to a world I’ve lost, and that I crave now more than ever. He brings me home, back to my roots. He makes me feel a little less alone. So maybe I should run far away, run from him, but for once in my life, I defy all I’ve been taught, and I don’t. I stay put, right here with Kace.
CHAPTER TEN
“Aria?”
At Kace’s gentle prod, I’m snapped out of my reverie.
“Did I say something wrong?” he presses.
“No. Of course not. You said nothing wrong.” And he didn’t. He said nothing wrong. Gio’s absence is what’s wrong but I can’t talk about that and I don’t. I change the subject quickly. “For some reason,” I say, “I thought you lived in Germany.” It’s out before I can stop it, and without that intent, I’ve just made myself look like a fangirl. “I was reading up on the recent Stradivarius auctions and went down a rabbit hole, which included the great violinists of our time.” The explanation I’ve given him is not a lie. I’ve secretly stayed on top of every auction ever held for a Stradivarius and sampled every one of the great violinists. The truth is that Kace’s playing has lulled me to sleep more than just last night.
If he notices my misspeak, he doesn’t show it. In fact, he leans in a little closer, the masculine scent of him far more delicious than the cookies—and the cookies smell pretty darn amazing. “I have a home here and in Germany. Germany is central to my European tours and while I love Germany, New York is my preferred home. That’s what I was arguing with my agent about when you walked up on me at the auction,” he continues. “He wants me to go on a European tour again at the first of the year.”
“And you don’t want to go?” I ask, surprised at how much I don’t want him to go. Which is silly. I just met him. Of course, he will leave soon. His international market is massive.
“No,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “I find New York calling me right now. Have you ever been to Germany?”
“I haven’t even been to a German restaurant.”
“You’re kidding me. You’ve never had spaetzle?”
“What is spaetzle?”
“German pasta.” His cellphone buzzes with what sounds like an alarm. He snags his phone from his jacket pocket and silences it. “Unfortunately, our talk of spaetzle must wait until later. I have a meeting at Riptide with Mark and Chris. Can I give you a ride home on the way?”
“No,” I say quickly, the idea of putting him out and making him late one I won’t allow. “I’m going to make another stop at this end of the city.” I grab my bag. “I have to swing by my client’s office and talk to him. I really should have been on my way by now. His office is right around the corner.” Which, thankfully, is also not a lie. I do think I’ll stop by and see Ed. An in-person visit will soften the bad news.
He shrugs into his jacket. “I’ll walk you there.”
I don’t know why I suddenly feel awkward when I didn’t a few moments ago. “That’s not necessary.”
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not necessary, not necessary at all. Most things worth doing aren’t. That’s what makes them meaningful.” There’s a bloom of warmth between us, and a message in his words. He chooses