“I feel like I do know her from what you and Alex have told me. And there’s no need to be sorry. I know what happened today had nothing to do with Marion Martinez and everything to do with an awful illness.”

“How do you separate it like that?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot more experience with this disease than you have, and as much as I care about Marion, she’s not my mother, so I’m not as emotionally invested as you are.” She ran her hand over his chest. “Although I’m becoming more invested all the time.”

He raised a brow. “Is that so?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I’ve gone from kissing my boss to sleeping with him. I’d say that counts as invested.”

“You forgot about having sex with him.”

“Um, no, I didn’t. That falls under sleeping.”

“Sex is very different from sleeping. Whole other category, in fact.”

“Who says?”

“I say.” He kissed her, lingering over the sweet taste of her lips. “Hold that thought.” Paul got up and put on his T-shirt and shorts, leaving the button undone so he could get them off again faster when he returned. He grabbed his wallet and went to the lobby to get the pizza, thinking about Hope and what’d transpired between them during this mostly magnificent day.

If only he could stop thinking about his mother hitting her. At the lobby bar, he inquired about purchasing a bottle of wine and was tucking his credit card back in his wallet when the pizza delivery guy came in. He returned to their room with the wine and pizza.

“Food for my hungry lady.”

“It’s about time,” she said with a teasing grin.

He loved this playful, relaxed side of her. He wondered if he would see more of that when they got home. They ate the pizza in bed right out of the box and drank the wine from plastic cups the hotel had provided.

“This is better than anything we could’ve gotten in a restaurant.”

“I doubt that, but there’s something to be said for the view.” He focused intently on the tops of her breasts, which were peeking out over the sheet.

“My view could be a little better.” She tugged at his T-shirt. “I’m just saying…”

After removing his shirt, he refilled their glasses. “I love you like this.” He realized what he’d said about one second after the words left his mouth. But he didn’t regret saying it.

She swallowed her bite of pizza and a sip of wine. “Like what?”

“Happy, relaxed, funny.” His fingertip made a path from the base of her throat over her collarbone and down to the valley between her breasts.