Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,66

affection everywhere.

I press my forehead to hers.

Her breath is steady, but she's not close enough. I slide my arms around her waist and pull her closer.

Need to know what it is that's weighing on her.

Can't take any more shit weighing on her. Between Meg and Miles throwing an impromptu wedding and Kara being knocked up, we've had enough of other people's problems.

Don't get me wrong. I love my friends. Just wish they'd deal with their shit for once.

Or at least not fight my help.

The gondola guy starts singing in Italian. Willow looks up, her hazel eyes going wide. Her smile goes wider.

I lean close enough to whisper. "You like this cheesy shit?"

She nods.

"Want to tell me what it is that's on your mind?"

"No."

I cock a brow.

"Your mom does the same thing. And your brother." She brushes my hair from my eyes. "It's cute how the three of you share so many mannerisms."

"Cute?"

She nods.

"Gonna make me prove I'm not cute?"

Again, she nods.

"I'll do it here."

"The boat will tip over!"

"So?"

She laughs. "Okay, do it here. I dare you."

Shit. I hate backing down from a dare, but I have to admit she called my bluff. I'm plenty in the mood for her body under mine, her strong legs wrapped around my hips, her nails digging into my back as she screams my name.

What the fuck am I trying to do here?

Thoughts of baseball do nothing to help the situation. Don't know shit about baseball.

I shake my head. Clear my throat. Takes a minute, but I get my senses back.

She laughs. "You're backing down from a dare."

"No. Just want to wait till we're alone."

"Uh-huh." She smiles ear to ear. "You don't have anything to prove to me. You're still the most outrageous person I know."

"Thank God."

She nods. Her expression softens, more serious. "Do you want to be here for Christmas?"

"Don't care where I am as long as I'm with you."

"Really?"

I nod. The last few years, I've spent half my time with my surroundings blurring together. Another hotel, another venue, another Thai restaurant, another woman at another club—it's all felt the same until Willow showed up in my hotel room.

I knew she was different that first night. It still took me a while to realize she was exactly what I needed.

"We won't have much family here," she says.

"We have the band and Ophelia. Who else do we need?"

"Do you ever think about your biological parents?"

My stomach clenches. Which of them would I think about—the father who walked out when my mother got pregnant or the mother who couldn't be bothered to stay sober long enough to fucking do anything? "No."

"Never?"

"You ever think about how your dad moved to Europe and married some French chick three years older than you?"

"Yeah, I do."

She does? Her eyes are wide, this mix of frustration and something else. I don't get it. Usually, body language is easy to read. Usually, I know exactly what she wants.

But now, I don't.

She's getting at something, but what?

Hard to focus when she brings up my birth parents.

Why the fuck would she bring them up?

"What are you getting at, kid?" I ask.

"I still think about my dad and my mom all the time." She frowns. "Sometimes, I think about getting back in touch."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because they're my family, Tom. I grew up with them. The only person I've known my whole life is Drew. I don't have any old friends from high school. I only have one friend from college." Her gaze goes to the bottom of the gondola. "I decide that it isn't worth the hurt, but I do think about it."

"Nobody who hurt you deserves your thought."

"Sometimes people who love you hurt you." She looks up at me. "You've hurt me."

Fuck, I have. The thought guts me. I can't stand that I've hurt her.

She presses her fingertips into my cheek. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean to. I'm sure I've hurt you before."

"No."

"Really?"

"Never." I lean into her touch. I can feel that everywhere too. She's soft. She's warm. She's fucking alive now. Not like before. Not like when she was running from everything.

And I am too. A whole different part of me is awake.

Willow bites her lip. "I'll probably hurt you one day. Without meaning to. That's what happens when you give someone your heart. Sometimes they stumble a little."

I trace the lines of the tattoo on her chest—a shattered glass heart. She's a strong person to survive everything she's been through, but I'll always worry about her breaking like