Page 37 of Lonely Heart

“I’m a big guy, Ivy. I do a lot of physical labor each day. So, while the occasional sweet treat is nice, I need sustenance. The way I see it, you’ve got the most important part figured out.”

There was something about hearing that praise from him that made me relax. I suddenly didn’t feel so wound up or worried, and there was a lightness in my limbs again. “Thanks.”

Marco and I focused the next few minutes on enjoying our meals, him asking me more about what exactly I’d put in the sauce for the chicken and me asking him about the progress he’d made on the villas yesterday when I hadn’t been able to talk to him at work.

When we’d finished, he sat back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face. “This was really good, Ivy. Thanks for inviting me over.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He hesitated for half a beat before he said, “Alright, so I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.”

“A while? Like, since you got here?”

He shook his head. “No. Since you were… since the day I stayed with you in the hotel.”

I sat up a little straighter, wondering if Marco was about to bring up my attack. I’d been doing such a great job the last couple of days not thinking about it. Of course, that had mostly been because I’d been thinking about him, instead. “Sure. What did you want to ask me?”

The corners of his mouth tipped up. “What is it that you like about woodcarving?”

Evidently, I’d assumed incorrectly. “Woodcarving?”

Nodding, he clarified, “Yeah. I don’t want this to sound judgmental, but you don’t strike me as the type of woman who’s interested in woodcarving. When you said you were going to a class that night, it caught me by surprise. I was simply wondering what part of it you enjoy so much.”

“Oh. I don’t have an answer for that, I guess.”

“You don’t?”

I moved my head from side to side, wondering what he was missing. “No. Because I never made it to the class.”

Understanding dawned. “Wait, was that your first time going?”

“Yes.”

“So, when’s the next one? Are you able to just walk in, or do you have to sign up?”

“I signed up for that, but I think they might allow walk-ins. I’m not sure.”

He stared at me, an expectant look on his face. “Okay. When is the next one?”

I shrugged, sitting back in my seat to seem casual. The truth was, this conversation was heading somewhere I wasn’t sure I was prepared for it to go. “I don’t know when the next class is.”

“Why not?”

Shaking my head, realizing it was going to be unavoidable, I stammered, “I… I… Going back there is?—”

“I’ll go with you,” he offered.

I jerked my chin back. “What?”

He waved a hand casually in my direction. “I can imagine going back in that area is going to feel unsettling. I’d be happy to take you, so you can try out the class. In fact, I think I’d enjoy something like a woodcarving class.”

My heart squeezed, my throat growing painfully tight. I didn’t care about woodcarving. Marco hadn’t been wrong—I didn’t have any interest in it.

But what I loved was that, without needing me to say it, Marco understood why I would hesitate to go there now and offered to accompany me. He didn’t sit here dwelling on why I felt uncomfortable with it; instead, he merely made it clear he understood. “You’d… you’d take me to the class?”

He shot me a look of disbelief. “Of course, I would. You tell me the time of the next class, and I’ll pick you up.”

Tears filled my eyes. “That’s really sweet of you to offer.”