“He was,” Mrs. C. said, using the faucet nozzle to clear away cake from a platter before she placed it in the dishwasher. When I reached for it, meaning to take over, she gave my hand a soft tap. “He’s made mistakes. Did things he wasn’t supposed to, and Dimitri had a hard time forgiving him.”
“Did…Toni?”
The older woman schooled her expression, but I still caught the slip. There was something that reminded me of worry, maybe a little upset, that she hid as soon as it came across her face.
“That’s not my story to tell, bella…”
“What’s not?” Smoke said, walking into the kitchen.
“Nothing.” Mrs. C. turned off the water and grabbed a dishtowel before she looked up at her son. “I’ll see about your father,” she told him, and I didn’t miss the smile tugging at her mouth before she hurried from the kitchen.
“Does she know she’s not subtle?” I asked Smoke, picking up another dirty plate.
He leaned against the counter, arms folded as I cleaned, but Smoke kept his attention on me, like always. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes that attention was like a drug I couldn’t get enough of. But not when his family was around. Not when there were too many eyes shifting in our direction.
“I think she knows what she wants and doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it.”
“And what does she want?” My shoulders tensed when Smoke licked his lips, moving his hand to rest against my hip on the counter.
“Probably things that are impossible.”
Impossible.
Smoke and I had perfected impossible.
Mrs. Carelli seemed to have expectations about us. No matter how many times Smoke told her there was nothing happening.
“You know she cornered me the other night after my shift,” I told him, reaching for a wine glass to rinse.
“That right?”
“Asked if I thought about the managerial program and if I’d consider taking some business courses. She wants to put me on day shifts and set me up to take over for Matthew when he starts his new job next month.”
Smoke rubbed his neck, keeping his attention on my profile as I rinsed dishes and set them in the dishwasher. After several moments he stood, coming to my side to help.
“She wants you to stick around. She’s trying to give you a future in this town, at this restaurant.”
I shot a glance at him, holding a plate in my wet hands. “That’s not…” He had the fattest bottom lip. The roundest, dark eyes. “My future isn’t…” Smoke leaned forward, inhaling before he slipped his tongue out to wet his lips and something deep inside me clenched. “I…can’t…”
“You can’t what, bella?”
“Pfffttt…” I said, pretending like the look he gave me didn’t affect me.
But I wasn’t that good of an actor.
Another step closer and he’d take my mouth. There was still bourbon on his breath. I could almost taste it. Ay Dios, this was bad. Us together. This close. Right here. Anyone could see. If they saw us…
“I need to go…” I said, drying my hands, stepping away from the sink, but Smoke stopped me, holding my waist with his large fingers, not deterred when I tried to hold him back by pushing on his massive chest. “You want your family to see you pawing me?”
“Stay with me tonight…” he said, ignoring my mock irritation. Smoke knew I was full of it. The smirk he wore told me that. “You wanna stay. Tell me I’m lying.”
“That’s not a good idea…”
“Maybe not, but it’ll be fun.” His grip got tighter and the clenching amplified into an ache. “My folks will take the kid. They’ve already mentioned as much to me.”
“Dimitri?” I heard and stepped away from Smoke when Mrs. Carelli called him by his given name as she came into the kitchen.
“Yeah, Ma?” he said, looking over his shoulder at his mother.
“Luca said you wanted to speak to him. Should I tell him to wait?” The smirk was back on her face and my cheeks flushed at the look she gave me.
“I’ll be right there,” he told her, grinning back at her as she left.
He didn’t move. Smoke didn’t have to. Nothing fazed him. I tried to keep any fear I felt to myself; I tried to never let anyone intimidate me, but Smoke was in another league.
Slipping past him, I managed five full steps before he caught me, looping an arm around my waist.
“Midnight. I’ll be waiting for you.” He brushed the hair from my shoulder, pressing a long, hot kiss right where my neck and shoulder met. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
The scent curling in my nose did something to my insides.
Something that made me stupid and reckless.
Something I knew that would lead nowhere good.
Smoke snaked a heavy arm around my waist, moving me closer to him. His sweet scent, his thick, muscular chest, and flat stomach pressed right against my naked body.
No, I told myself. I wasn’t here…not again.
“Smoke…” I ignored the way he moved his fingers down my back, cupping my ass like it was normal and something he did without thinking.
“Bella…hush…”
He was nearly asleep and languid; how he always got after he took me, especially when it was late. That hand lowered and he gave me a half pat, squeezing my ass like some sort of silent motion to quiet me.
Here, in this bed, with the smell of us perfuming the sheets, Smoke wasn’t the gangster this town knew him to be. He was soft, gentle, and he touched me like he wanted me. Like he couldn’t get enough. Like there was more between us than the stretch of our naked skin and the heat of our bodies moving together.
Eyes closed tight, I let myself have a second. I wanted to keep the moment, the stillness between us. I wanted to pretend that this was real. Me and Smoke, touching, him holding me, because it felt nice. Nicer to pretend like he wanted only me.
Then Smoke brushed his face against my shoulder, his lips wet, sigh lazy and kissed me there. Soft. Intimate.
He’d never done that before and I felt cherished almost…loved.
Mierda.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
My head always got a little fuzzy when I was around him. I couldn’t help it.
The light from the bathroom slipped out through the darkness and moved over his features, hitting the sharp, fine angle of his cheekbones and the full, thick curve of his mouth.
He was beautiful.
Strong, even laying against his pillow, turned toward me and his fierce, masculine features relaxed as he seemed to move between exhaustion and sleep.
There was something about him I could never keep away from. No matter how hard I tried.
And it wasn’t just him.
It was them.
Smoke, his parents, his brothers and sister. They’d all taken me and my boy in when they didn’t have to. Brought us in from the snowy Christmas night like it was their pleasure to know us. They’d given us a family. A home. They’d given me a job and a place to belong.
And Smoke? Even though when this all started six months ago, we agreed there could never be anything real between us, somehow I always ended up back here. In his bed, pressed against him, being owned and loving every second that I was.