“My dad would disappear for days, maybe weeks at a time to go on a gambling binge,” I revealed. “He always came back to the restaurant, though. He knows where his bread and butter is.” Despite the sadness of the tale and lameness of the pun, I felt my lip muscles twitch.
When Z turned to face me, “Let it come,” he said, and I did. “Yeah. That’s better.”
I didn’t think I could imagine anything more beautiful than the sunrise. When I saw it in his eyes, I knew I had. I shivered when Z tenderly touched my mouth with his fingertip, then ran a knuckle over the roundness of my cheek.
“This is a better use of knuckles.”
“Absolutely.” I agreed, and I stared at him, at handsome, sweet natured Z. “You befuddle me.”
“I do?” His hand was still on me.
“Yes. I think you know, though. You said the
