She turns to face me now, her smile wide, her eyes alive, and she waves a hand at the exposed garage that’s lit with LED spots from the floor. It’s flash, but I love it.
And I know she does too.
Eva has always loved her cars. One type in particular. And I know it’s drawing her eye now...
‘That is impressive.’
‘Are we talking about the feat of engineering required to get them up here or the cars themselves?’
‘Both.’ She beams. ‘How do you get in?’
A few taps to my phone and the glass door slides up.
‘No way.’
And here I go again. Impressing her. Getting high on it.
She glides forward, her touch delicate as she strokes the red bonnet of my Ferrari. Normally I’d cringe—and if she was any normal woman I would—but I know Eva and I know she loves this particular car. I knew it when I bought it, and think of her every time I get in it. Maybe I’ve always secretly dreamed of this moment.
‘Trust you to own one.’
She looks at me over the hood and tests the door handle. It opens, and she gives a giddy squeal before she drops inside. I’m grinning like a fool as I watch her, but there’s no stopping it.
She settles herself in, her hands flexing around the wheel, and I join her, climbing into the passenger seat.
‘It’s no ordinary Ferrari, is it?’ she asks.
‘Ordinary?’ I raise my brow at her. ‘No Ferrari can be classed as ordinary.’
‘True—but come on, tell me. What have you changed?’
I laugh at her eagerness. I miss this. Having her to share everything with. Just like we used to. It’s nice. Really nice. I sit back in the seat and give her the low-down, watching the way her hands caress the interior, feeling her excitement build my own.
‘She’s a beauty.’
‘That she is,’ I say, and I’m looking at her—all her—and she knows it.
She meets my eyes, her smile softening as she places the back of her hand over her mouth and stifles a yawn. I feel it too—jet lag creeping in.
‘Come on. Let’s get you to bed.’
‘Us,’ she says. ‘Let’s get us to bed.’
Us. I love how that sounds. My body warms over it as I climb out of the car and walk around to help her up. She takes my hand and folds into my side as we walk out of the garage. I set the glass sliding back into place and make for the staircase.
She pulls on my arm to stop me as she kicks off her shoes, and then we’re moving again and I’m thinking about sleeping. Sleeping and logistics.
‘I had the spare room made up for you.’ It feels ridiculous even as I say it and her laugh confirms it.
‘You know I’m not going to use it, don’t you?’
My smile is easy. ‘I didn’t think so.’
‘Sweet of you, though.’
She hangs off my arm and rubs her cheek against my shoulder, almost catlike and loaded with affection. My heart squeezes in my chest.
Where is this heading? Am I a fool?