“Uh, can you come out?” Aldo alone with Gloria in her bedroom was probably not the best way to give her space to build her own life. Resisting those sleepy smiles and whatever flimsy pajamas she had on would be easier outside than next to an inviting bed.

She gave him a grin and slid her ass onto the windowsill. He moved forward, crushing plants under his feet, and caught her against him as she slid out.

Dear God in heaven. She was wearing tiny cotton shorts and a camisole thing. Her hair was tousled around her face, and in the moonlight, he could see she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Grimly, he set her down half a step away from him. They were not at the point in their relationship where he was comfortable sporting wood around her. Not yet, at least.

“I expected you to use the door,” he teased.

“I expected you to use the phone,” she shot back. Sleepy Gloria was spunkier. As if the veils between who she was and who she’d been told to be were thinner.

“Sorry,” he grinned without a hint of real apology. “I came to…give you my house key.” He wrestled his key ring out of his pocket. He’d bought a dozen houseplants this week for the express purpose of having Gloria in his house weekly while he was gone. He loved the idea of her being there, surrounded by his things while he was half a world away.

“I kind of thought you were kidding about the plants,” Gloria told him, accepting the key.

“I’m totally into plants. Plants make oxygen.” For the love of God, stop talking, Moretta, he told himself.

“How often do you want me there?” she asked.

Every damn day. “Once a week should be good.” At least he hoped. He was pretty new to this “having plants” thing.

She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. Aldo couldn’t help himself. He closed his hands over her upper arms and rubbed warmth into them. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. He needed her to know that everything regarding her body was her choice.

“Yes.” Her response was breathless, and even in the dark, he could see the look of wonder in her brown eyes. He wanted every touch to be beautiful for her. To erase one by one, the hurts, the scars, the fears.

Any other girl he’d be reading the signals as pro-kiss. He’d feel confident about making his move, smoothly of course. But Gloria Parker wasn’t just any other girl.

“I should probably go,” he said, continuing to rub her arms. Everything about her was so small, delicate. He wished to God that he could be here to watch out for her. To witness her transformation back to who she was.