But for the first time, I knew that someone understood because he knew. Even without me saying the words, he knew exactly what I meant; there would never be any miscommunication on our part because of it. Being open like that left me vulnerable, bleeding out from wounds I'd wanted to call healed over the months I'd spent isolated away from men, but it also left me feeling accepted.
Understood.
"I don't need variety," Lino said softly. "I've never needed it, Little Dove."
"I don't even know if I can have sex. I haven't tried, and it might mean that you not only aren't getting variety, but you aren't getting anything.”
“I think you may find that you’re surprised by just how patient I can be when it comes to you,” he smirked at me playfully. I narrowed my eyes on him, but he ignored it in favor of going back to the work on his laptop.
Another cryptic statement that he didn’t seem remotely inclined to clarify.
I nodded, moving to stand and stretch out my muscles. After having been babied unnecessarily for so long, I didn't have it in me to just sit and read, especially not when I grew more and more frustrated with Lino’s evasiveness by the day. I was so tired of being sheltered and protected from whatever it was he seemed to think I couldn’t handle, but there was no way to make the stubborn man tell me a thing.
I wanted to move, wanted to do something, but I also knew pushing Lino on that front wasn't in my best interest. Stretching seemed like a safe option. I tried not to think about the way that his eyes darted up from his computer, narrowing in on my bare midriff when I stretched up over my head.
"What are you doing?" he grunted.
I smiled at him, bending over to touch my toes. "Just stretching. My muscles feel like they've been stuck in a bed forever. Oh, wait!" I had to hope that with the way he tormented me with information, maybe, just maybe, there was another way I could return the favor.
"Samara," he warned, but his lips tipped up in amusement.
"Oh hush, Beasty. There's no reason you need to go all 'me man you woman protective on my ass.' I'm just stretching."
He chuckled, deep and throaty. "I'd like to go all caveman on your ass."
I gasped as I stood straight, staring at him open-mouthed in shock. "What has my ass ever done to you?"
"Looked too fucking good in literally everything you wear, to start. Do you have any idea how many times I've wanted to just slap it when you flaunt it in your tight skirts at work? Or grab a fistful in those fucking leggings?"
I smirked at him, glancing back over my shoulder to look at my legging covered ass. I nodded in agreement. "It does look good in leggings. If you keep me in bed it will get bigger, especially with the way you cook. Have you never heard of a salad?"
"I'm okay with that," he shrugged.
"What are you doing looking at my ass, anyway? Yavin will lose his shit if he finds out you've been staring at my ass."
Lino laughed. "Samara, you're my wife. I think it is safe to say your brother will lose his shit, regardless."
"Oh, my God. What are we going to tell him?” I asked, smacking my face against my hand dramatically. While not having to deal with Yavin’s dramatics through the actual wedding, there would have been a positive to it.
It would be done, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
"I’ll handle it. Now, come on," he said, taking my hand. "We should cook."
"We?" I huffed a laugh. "You realize I burn water, right? You should keep me as far from the kitchen as possible."
"Oh, trust me. I learned my lesson when you tried to cook me frozen ravioli and jarred sauce and still messed that up," he teased, but he took me behind the island of the kitchen, regardless. I stood, leaning my butt against the island as he went about gathering ingredients from all corners of the kitchen. "In honor of that, I thought we would make ravioli together this time."
"I uh, okay," I swallowed. I didn't want to burn his house down. I really didn't.
It was such a lovely house.
"I got you something." His smile was infectious. "Now close your eyes." Biting my lip nervously, I did as he ordered. Something slipped over my head, settling over my tank top and leggings. Lino's strong, deft hands reached around my waist to tie it at the small of my back, and the subtle touches of his fingers against me tickled in the best of ways, dragging my body out from the pit of slumber it seemed to retreat to whenever he wasn't touching me. "Okay. Open."
There was a smile on my face, making my cheeks ache before they even opened. When they dragged open, I glanced down to my chest to see the words "I'll burn for you" stretched across my chest. I huffed a laugh, pressing my face into his chest since he seemed intent to hover too close to my body.
"It's perfect," I whispered. I'd always loved that Lino, although he was perfect, never judged me for the things I just was not good at. He was a literal genius, navigating the business world like he'd been born to it, and even when we were young, he'd been incredible with numbers. He could cook like a chef and loved doing it at that. He was gorgeous and worked out enough to keep his body flawless in that lean, muscled way that runners dreamed of having.
I was the opposite. I was smart, but because I'd worked to be. I didn't disappoint on every level, but that didn't mean that things came to me as easily as they did Lino. In my ideal world, I would have never started working in an office and pursued singing as a career. But it hadn't been meant for me, and despite my passion for it I'd found I much preferred the anonymity of open mic night instead of scheduled performances.