my shirt and tossing it in the corner of the room, my jeans and socks followed, then slowly I slid under the blankets. I wasn’t one for doonas preferring sheets and blankets. At Meadow’s, I had to endure an eight blanket doona, no top sheet, and a million different sized and shaped pillows. Her bed was bigger than mine; a king compared to my queen, which I also hated. I spent all night chasing her around the bed, dragging her back against me.

“Turn over, baby, put your sore arm on top of the blankets,” I suggested, nuzzling her neck then gently shifted her into the position that would be more comfortable for her arm. Meadow was a messy sleeper, moving all about the place and generally keeping me awake with her kicking and strange noises. The funny thing was when we stayed at our own places for a night, I missed those kicks and grunts.

“Why do you still have your boxers on?” she asked, letting me move her.

“Because we aren’t having sex tonight,” I answered firmly. Meadow got naked at some stage between me leaving her to get ready for bed and to go check I locked everything up securely for the night. Her slim, toned sexiness always a temptation no matter the situation, but this time I was going to resist.

“Honey, we just said the L word for the first time. Don’t you think we should celebrate with hot nookie?”

“Nookie?”

“Bump and grind?”

Chuckling, I gently laid a hand at her hip. “Ah, no.”

“Rubbing and pumping, get our freak on, fucking?” My laughter died down instantly, nearly choking me. Like lightning, I vaulted over Meadow, coming down on the bed with a soft thud. Taking her face in her hands, I looked sternly into her wide, shocked eyes.

“We don’t fuck, Meadow. Nothing we do in bed or anywhere else for that matter, whether it be my office or on the antique couch in your shop, is fucking. Understand?” I was livid, wild at hearing her say that. “We make love every time. Wild and crazy, soft and sweet, dirty and sweaty. It doesn’t matter which one, it’s lovemaking. It’s us. And I love it.”

“I love it too, Luca, I do, and I am sorry for making light of our feelings just now, but until you told me you love me, I was questioning just what I am to you,” Meadow admitted to me quietly.

“What?”

“I’m ashamed to say it out loud, but yeah, I was wondering if this was just a passing fancy if I was a filler in time for you.”

Springing out of bed, with my hands on my hips, I gawked at Meadow stupefied.

“You thought what? Jesus Meadow, how much more can I do to show you that is bullshit?”

Meadow, too, moved quickly. She was struggling to get to her knees on the bed without the help of her wounded arm. Not able to help myself, and because I was so totally gone for the woman, I moved to the bed and held out my hand for her to take, helping her steady herself.

“Explain yourself, Meadow,” I demanded as soon as she was upright on the bed, then taking my hand away. I lived to feel her touch, but anger had taken hold and hurt a fuck tonne of hurt. “I told you I love you, and I don’t do that, I haven’t ever told another woman that except you.”

“Luca, I know that I do! But you can hardly blame me, we have been seeing each other for six weeks, give or take, and I haven’t met your family yet. We eat tea with Lennie and Trish at least once a week. You do work for my dad, go to car and truck shows with my brother, hell you even pick Spring up when Ace can’t. I don’t even know what you have told your mother about me because it never comes up!”

“You don’t suggest dinner, or even them coming here. Does your mum know about my shop? I have been expecting four women to come walking into my shop on a secret recon mission just to check me out. But there hasn’t been, so please tell me what else am I supposed to think?” Meadow threw one hand up in the air, tears streaming down her face. “You leave me to go out to dinner or a family function and don’t even consider inviting me. I can count on both hands and feet how many times you have done that since we started going out.”

Astounded, I felt my anger dissipate. How did I not see that she would think such things? When I insisted on meeting her parents, why wouldn’t Meadow expect it to be reciprocated? It had not been, and that was on me. Leaving it until tonight to set up a meet and greet was way too late—the look on her face when in the hospital came back to me in a rush. At the time, I couldn’t be sure what it meant or if I had imagined it, but hearing her now, seeing how upset she is, it made sense.

How could she believe that I was in love with her, when I had not shown her off to my family. I was truly failing relationship 101, make sure your woman knows how important she is to you, other than worshipping her. Dropping my chin to my chest, I sucked in much needed fresh air. She was definitely right, and how could I blame her for thinking that shit?

“Baby, fuck. Fuck, I am a dickhead, and I just keep fucking up, don’t I?” Not waiting for her to confirm it because knowing Meadow she would, I moved swiftly to the bed, getting on my knees, shuffling to her, and taking her hand, holding it tightly.

“My mother is not like Trish,” I said, stating the freaking obvious. “She is very old school, very proper, and sometimes she speaks her mind without so much as thinking of the other

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