20.
Corrado
“You got her?”
“Mmm.”
Corrado peeked over his shoulder as he yanked a pair of cotton sleep pants up—enough to keep him decent for now. That’s all he needed. Behind him, he found Alessio had picked Ginevra up from the bed in a cradle hold as he waited for Corrado to finish getting dressed.
Ginevra smiled sweetly when Alessio winked down at her. “Oh, do I get special treatment now? Because I thought the sex was it.”
“Not even close,” Alessio returned.
“The big bath, yeah?”
Alessio nodded his way. “Sure.”
Corrado led the way out of the bedroom, and Alessio followed behind without a word. He couldn’t help but to check behind him as he headed for the penthouse’s main bathroom where a large clawfoot tub waited.
Alessio’s head tipped down, and he nuzzled his nose and mouth along the line of Ginevra’s hair, murmuring words too quietly for Corrado to discern a few steps ahead of them. Ginevra’s soft smile and hooded eyes were more than enough to tell him that she liked whatever he said, though.
It wasn’t lost on Corrado the affection Alessio showed to Ginevra without even thinking about it, really. Sure, they always took care of a woman after she allowed them to share her between them. It was only right, after all. Alessio never, however, showed affection very much while doing it. Always kind, but he wasn’t loving.
Not like right now with Ginevra.
For a brief second, Corrado wondered why he experienced no jealousy at the sight of two people he loved showing ... well, love to one another. Because that’s the thing, wasn’t it? It had been inevitable, something he expected would happen with enough time, but he still only realized was a reality now.
Alessio loved Ginevra.
He might not say it.
He didn’t have to.
Not when he showed it.
As for her ...
Corrado didn’t have to wonder if Ginevra loved them. She did. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be still doing this with them at all. He had thrown her in this mess between him and Alessio, but she didn’t have to continue to indulge it.
And yet, she did.
She wanted to.
More than anyone else ever had—including the two of them—she helped them. Probably more than she would ever know.
In the bathroom, Alessio set Ginevra down on the toilet with a raised brow when her cheeks pinked. “I don’t have to p—”
“Yes, you do. UTIs are a bitch.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Ginevra sighed when Alessio left her to come stand next to Corrado as he leaned over the claw tub and turned the levers on the rose-gold tap to start the water running. They worked together at the tub, keeping their backs turned to Ginevra while she did her business, and the running water masked their quiet conversation.
“You should tell her,” Corrado murmured.
Alessio glanced his way. “Pardon?”
“That you love her, Les.”
“I—”
“You should tell her.”
“Have you?”
Corrado hesitated when he reached for the bath salts Alessio handed out to him. “No.”
Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but rather ... the time never seemed right. Maybe a part of him still felt like, after all this time of him not saying those words to Alessio, it might be a betrayal, too. Didn’t he at least owe that to Les, or did it even matter anymore?
He didn’t know.
Alessio never defined the lines, either.
Corrado wasn’t sure where to go from here.
Alessio shrugged. “It’ll happen when it happens.”
Right.
Ginevra made a quiet noise, making both men straighten to their full height at the tub, their attention going to her where she stood next to the sink. Her stance was careful, and when she stepped closer to the sink, her walk was measured.
Because yeah, he didn’t doubt she was tender.
Sore.
“It’s time to relax,” Alessio told her.
“I have to wash my hands, don’t I?”
“Fine.” Alessio left Corrado’s side, so he could slip in behind Ginevra at the sink. His chin rested on her naked shoulder as she washed her hands. As soon as she finished, not that her hands were dried because it wouldn’t matter, he picked her up in that same cradle hold and carried her to the bath. “It’ll help the muscles, Ginny.”
“Is someone getting in with me?”
Corrado chuckled as he placed her in the hot water. “Better that we not.”
“You should rest,” Alessio agreed.
Ginevra sunk lower under the water, all of her curves and lines available for them to admire as some of her tension drifted away. “This is nice.”
Corrado kneeled down, resting an arm along the edge of the clawfoot tub while he tucked stray strands of her hair behind her ear with his fingers. She turned her head into his touch, tucking her cheek into his palm, and smiling.
“It’s your turn to be taken care of, huh?” he asked in a murmur. “You’re always so busy worrying about us, Ginevra. We’re fine ... we’ve been driving each other up the wall for years.”
“Not a lie,” Alessio said behind him.
“Point is,” Corrado continued, “it’s our turn to take care of you. Whatever you want, you ask.”
Her gaze drifted between him, and then to Alessio.
“I have what I want here,” she whispered.
Right.
Corrado heard what she didn’t say.
It was outside of this place where she was missing the important parts of her life.
“I miss my sisters,” she said, shrugging. “But I know—”
“I might be able to help with that.”
Now.
It was a risk, and Chris had been quick to refuse the first time Corrado asked for help with his plan a couple of weeks back. Corrado was done trying to get something from Andino Marcello for Ginevra related to her sisters.
The man wasn’t giving anything.
So, fine.
Corrado would go elsewhere.
Ginevra’s gaze lit up. “Really?”
He smiled. “It might not be everything you want, but it is something. Will that help?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
Good enough for him.
Corrado stood straight and turned to Alessio with a shrug. “You good for a minute?”
“Of course.”
Alessio was quick to take Corrado’s previous place at the side of the tub. Although while Corrado had been fine to let Ginevra rest in the water for as long as she wanted with no interference from him, Alessio was more practical.
He pulled a folded up wash cloth sitting on a stand next to the tub and dipped it into the water before dragging the soft terry fabric along the column of Ginevra’s throat. Her sweet smile turned on Alessio, and Corrado decided to slip out while he distracted her, and he wouldn’t be missed by either of them.
Unlikely, but whatever.
He missed them constantly—whether they were five feet away, or five miles. It didn’t matter, a part of him felt their loss. Which, if he were being honest, was one of the most terrifying parts of this thing they all shared.
And not something he wanted to think about.
Corrado headed for where he’d dropped his coat, earlier. He found it draped over the back of the couch, and funnily enough, couldn’t even remember putting it there. They focused on getting into bed and clothes went wherever the fuck they went.