Page 69 of Tough Call

“Nice. Was it fun?”

“Of course it was. I’ve never driven that fast in my life. And then some maniac in a supercar passed me like I was going backwards.”

Connor barked a laugh, unaware of how much he lit up the whole evening, not to mention all my senses.

You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

“That sounds like such a blast,” he said, still grinning. “I think I’d be afraid to go as fast as some people do out there, but it sounds like fun.”

“It is.” I scowled. “And then of course I went back to Switzerland and immediately got a speeding ticket.”

“Oops.”

“Uh-huh. I told Mülly he should pay me half of it, but…” I waved a hand.

“What a jerk. Taught you to drive that fast and won’t even take accountability when you get caught.” He tsked. “Some friend he is.”

“Exactly! What a dick.”

A moment later, our food arrived. It was, as I expected, amazing. The langostinos were in season, and I had to laugh as Connor marveled at their size. They really were enormous. Most people thought they were shrimp, but they were more like lobster, if somewhat smaller.

Amazing, too. Those, along with the rice dish that reminded me of paella (but apparently wasn’t), made for the perfect meal.

Good food. Good wine. A beautiful view on a warm night.

All shared with the man who’d been occupying most of my thoughts since we’d crossed paths again in Prague.

An evening just didn’t get any better than this.

CHAPTER 22

CONNOR

Yesterday had been amazing. The Alcazar, the cathedral, dinner, not to mention the lazy afternoon sex—it was all incredible.

But when Madars emerged from the home gym after his morning workout, something was… off. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. He wasn’t snappy or irritable, just sort of folded in on himself. Preoccupied, maybe, and not in a good way.

After he’d showered and changed into regular clothes, he joined me in the living room, where I’d been perusing social media on my phone. I lowered the phone and studied him, trying to figure out what was on his mind.

“You want to go get something to eat?” He smiled, and it was so obviously forced, it was painful to see. “Some of the cafés have great breakfast menus.”

What I wanted to do was ask him what was bothering him, but maybe that could wait until we’d both had some food and coffee. Hell, maybe the food and coffee would clear the dark clouds that seemed to be gathering above his head.

So, we walked to a café down the street for breakfast. It was the same one we’d come to yesterday before venturing out into the rest of Sevilla. The food was simple and excellent, and so cheap it felt criminal.

And the coffee? Oh, fuck, yes, come to Daddy.

Madars was often indecisive in restaurants, but that was extra pronounced this morning. He kept turning the menu over, skimming it, turning it again, skimming it again, as if he didn’t even understand what was on it. Eventually, he sighed and settled on a toasted baguette with tomato sauce and cheese… the same thing he’d ordered the last time we were here. He really was on another planet, wasn’t he?

After we’d ordered, the waiter brought us fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee, and then we were alone again.

I didn’t let the grass grow this time.

“Hey.” I nudged Madars gently under the table. “Where are you this morning?”

He didn’t even try to dismiss the question. His shoulders sank and he exhaled, slouching as if he were barely holding himself upright. “My agent called while I was in the gym.”

My spine straightened. “Oh. Bad news?”