Marco arrived at the Adamo parking lot five minutes before six, just as it was emptying out. He considered parking in his father’s space, but decided against it. Kat would learn his last name eventually, but he wanted to wait a little longer before informing her that he could also be considered her boss in a roundabout way. Though he’d given up his claim as CEO of the company when he left for the army, he still had a 20 percent stake in it. His father had wanted to strip him of it when he left for the military, but Nonno refused.

Marco missed his grandfather. He’d passed while Marco was overseas and he hadn’t even been able to attend the funeral, which was a huge regret. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d been MIA where his family was concerned the last few years.

But he’d needed that time away to get his shit in order. If he’d have stuck around, he’d have continued down a path that would make him worthless to his family, at the very least. More than likely, he would have self-destructed, hurting his family in the process.

The accident that altered the course of his life was both a blessing and curse. A blessing because he doubted he would have changed his ways without such a significant catalyst, but a curse because he’d ruined his friend’s life.

What had happened to Ryan wasn’t fair. They’d both been drunk and high, but it was Marco who’d been behind the wheel. It was Marco who should be bound to a wheelchair, not Ryan. In a cruel twist of fate, Marco hadn’t been wearing his seat belt, so when he’d lost control of the car and it started flipping, he’d been thrown out, landing on the grass. He’d walked away with bruises and a sprained wrist.

But Ryan had been wearing his seat belt. So when the car rolled a dozen or more times, Ryan rolled with it. When the passenger side was crushed up against a huge oak tree, Ryan was crushed. His left leg was pulverized and his right retained significant nerve damage.

Marco thought about Ryan each and every day. In the beginning, the guilt had nearly consumed him. The only thing that kept him from giving in to it in the beginning was the rigor of boot camp.

He’d made the right decision in leaving. Now he just hoped he’d made the right decision in coming back.

At six on the dot, Kat exited the building. It looked like she’d changed out of her work clothes and he had to say he approved. The gray dress clung to her curves, accentuating her tiny waist. Her dark hair framed her face and her bow-shaped lips were free of lipstick, just the way he liked. There was nothing worse than kissing a woman and then wearing her lipstick as a result. He preferred his women more natural anyway.

And Kat was definitely a natural beauty.

When she saw him, she slowed and fiddled with her purple scarf.

Was she nervous? That possibility surprised him. Kat struck him as the type of woman who could handle any situation. He was looking forward to learning if his perceptions were correct.

When she approached, he took her hand in his and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “You look gorgeous.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as she quickly pulled her hand away. He put his hands up like he had when he first encountered her at her broken-down car. Message received. No touching.

Damn. If the rest of the evening continued like this, he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not she wore lipstick.

“Forgive me,” he said.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just not used to . . .” She laughed nervously, running her hands through her hair. “I thought we’d go to Harold’s Steakhouse. Is that okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” He had no idea what Harold’s was. It probably hadn’t been here when he left four years ago.

But honestly, he didn’t care. He’d eat PB&Js with this woman just to get the chance to know her better. She intrigued him.

There was a vulnerability about her that she probably didn’t even realize was there. She hid it well under her hard exterior, but when she let her guard down, it was there, evident in her big brown eyes.

But why did she put on such a tough front?

He opened the passenger door for her and she visibly started. “Oh. I thought we’d drive separately.”

His eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting that. “Sure. I don’t actually know where Harold’s is, so I’ll have to follow you.”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No, I’m sure it’s fine. Just lead the way.”

He waited until she got into her car, then hopped into the truck and started the engine. A minute later, he was still waiting for her to start hers. Then her driver’s door opened and she emerged with slumped shoulders.

She walked over and he rolled down his window.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she grumbled.

He choked back a laugh. “Car won’t start?”

“Yes. I think it’s the battery.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin. “Get in.”

* * *

Kat’s side hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. Marco’s stories from basic training were hilarious.

Perhaps she shouldn’t laugh at how the drill sergeant made the recruits pretend like they were waltzing with mops as they cleaned the barracks. After all, these men had pledged their lives for their country, but it was impossible to keep a straight face the way Marco told the tale.

“Perhaps we should go dancing after this so you can show me your skills,” Kat teased.

The edges of Marco’s mouth quirked up and he ducked his head. Damn, he was cute when he did that. He had this smile that made him look half bashful, mischievous boy and half charming, sexy man.

He looked up and his dark eyes met hers, sending heat through her veins.

She took back her earlier observation. He was 100 percent sexy man.

How in the hell did she end up on a date with him?

Her asshole radar was silent, so could she really have found a nice man for once? Then again, had her radar ever been accurate? She’d never chosen well. Even her fourth grade boyfriend turned out to be a jerk—at recess one day he’d cut off her ponytail to make his friends laugh.

So she was having trouble fully enjoying herself. She kept waiting for her metaphorical ponytail to get hacked off.

“I’ll gladly take you dancing,” Marco said. “But you might want to change into some steel-toed shoes. The mop was a lot more forgiving than your feet would be.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his self-deprecation. It was a refreshing break from the macho male behavior she was used to encountering.

But she didn’t believe him for a moment. “Something tells me you can hold your own.”

He reached across the table and took hold of her hand, turning it palm up. He traced the lines with his fingertip. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Her breath hitched as her eyes focused on his hand touching hers. The touch was so light, but the effect was oh-so-deep. Warmth spread to her core, lighting a fire that had been dormant for a long time.

She yanked her hand back.

Marco looked at her with a question in his eyes, but their server came by with their entrées before he was able to voice it.

Saved.

Kat should have found some way to force Marco to take her money for those parts. This man was dangerous—he tugged at her heartstrings and yanked at her desire.

The server smiled brightly, oblivious to what she’d interrupted. “Are you all set? Can I get you anything else?”

Kat shook her head.

“No. Thank you.” Marco returned the server’s smile. “This looks great.”

“Enjoy.” The server walked away.

Kat watched the interaction with interest. Years of working in the restaurant and catering industry had taught her you could learn a lot about a person by how they treated waitstaff.

Marco had passed the test.

Damn. She almost wished he’d been an asshole. Then it would be easier to dismiss him and go on about her life. To consider this dinner with him a one and done, payment for services rendered. But the more time she spent with him, the harder that was becoming.

How was that possible? She’d barely spent any time with this man and she was throwing caution to the wind, considering breaking all her rules, rules that had kept her safe.

But why shouldn’t she?

For all intents and purposes, Marco was a nice man. He’d helped her with her car when he’d had no reason to. There was no ulterior motive there that she could see. He was polite and respectful to her and everyone they’d encountered. He was nothing like the assholes she’d dated in the past.

Nothing like Leo.

In her head, his words mocked her: You’re a worthless bitch. I’m the best you’re ever going to get.

But Marco was definitely better than Leo, and he seemed genuinely interested in her.

She forced herself to halt this train of thought. God, would she forever be doomed to compare men to that asshole?

And sure, she had responsibilities—her job and her brother—but didn’t everyone? Why was she holding herself back?

“Is everything okay?” Marco asked.

Kat started, blushing as if he had heard her thoughts. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Anything you want to share?”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to ascertain if his question was facetious. But no, he appeared genuine.

Damn. Why did she always jump to conclusions and think the worst of people? She felt guilty for a split second, then shook it off. She was right to be suspicious. While she believed there were good people in the world, unfortunately she’d had the misfortune of living a life that rarely included them. The old saying, Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice, shame on me was her motto.

She’d been fooled. And damn if she was going to be fooled again.

She realized Marco was still looking at her, waiting for a response.

“Not really.” She picked up her fork. “Tell me more about yourself. So far all I’ve learned about you is you got into a lot of shenanigans in boot camp.”

He grinned wickedly. “I think everyone gets into a lot of shenanigans in boot camp. It’s a lot funnier in hindsight. At the time, no one was laughing while we danced with our mop girlfriends.” He paused. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. What about your family? You said you’re from here, right?”

“Right.” His face clouded over briefly, so briefly she wondered if she’d imagined it. But maybe he didn’t want to talk about his family. Other than her brother, hers was nothing to be proud of.

Her mother had been drunk for most of her childhood. It was her coping mechanism for dealing with an also drunk and abusive husband. At least she managed to keep her children out of his path for the most part. When Kat was thirteen, he’d come on to her once, trying to touch her ass and breasts in his drunken stupor. Luckily for her and unfortunately for him, her older brother had been home at the time, and he beat the shit out of the old man. He’d left for good shortly after that. No one even missed him.

The incident was disturbing in and of itself, but what had really shook Kat at the time was that the man was supposedly her father. Years later when she learned the truth, she remembered the incident, wondering if he’d known she wasn’t actually his daughter.

“So I have a younger brother,” Marco said, then stopped like he was contemplating what to say next.

“I have a brother, too,” Kat said, wanting to throw Marco a bone. She totally understood if he didn’t want to talk about his family. Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked. She certainly didn’t want to talk about hers. “How long have you been in the army?”

“Four years.” At her questioning gaze, he continued. “I was twenty-three when I enlisted. I needed a change.”

“What did you do before that?”

“I went to college. Took my time getting a degree. I didn’t do much else, though.” He flashed a wry grin. “I was kind of a degenerate.”

She laughed. “I can’t picture that.”

“Good. Then I must be doing something right.”

“Maybe.” She lowered her eyes.

“Only maybe?” He paused. “I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

Kat looked up at him. If he tried any harder, she didn’t know if she could keep her distance.

“How’s your steak?” he asked.

She looked down at the meal she’d barely touched. “Good. Great, actually.” It was. She was simply having a hard time concentrating on eating with Marco on the other side of the table.

“Make sure you save room for dessert.”

Was that a euphemism? He raised his eyebrows suggestively and grinned as he took a bite of steak.

Kat’s mind got all cluttered with thoughts of whipped cream and chocolate and Marco. Mostly Marco.

Oh, boy.

* * *

Marco couldn’t stop himself from teasing Kat. He liked seeing the woman unravel a little bit. She was wound tight and guarded. But when she slipped and let her walls down, that’s when her real beauty shone through.

He wanted her.

When he’d run his fingers along her palm, electricity passed between them, making him want to touch more than just her hand. He wanted to touch her all over, to find out if the heat between them would be combustible. He had no doubt it would be.

But then she’d yanked her hand away.

He made her nervous. That much he could tell. But he didn’t know why.

He wondered if the news that he was her boss’s—and friend’s—brother would make her feel more comfortable or send her running. He guessed he’d find out sooner rather than later. Though he hadn’t outright lied to her, the deception was starting to feel wrong.

The server arrived with the dessert menu and Marco immediately passed it across the table. Kat’s eyes skimmed over it.

“I think I’m going to pass,” she said with a note of reluctance, handing him the menu. “But you can order something if you’d like.”

Marco didn’t hesitate. “Brownie sundae. Two spoons.”

As the server jotted down the order and walked away, a blush crept over Kat’s cheeks and Marco knew he’d made the right decision.

He wasn’t ready for his time with Kat to be over. Aside from the fact that he was inexplicably drawn to her physically, he wanted to peel away her protective layers to get to know the woman underneath. Something told him he would like what he’d find. Underneath her hard exterior was a soft side. He could hear it in her voice when she mentioned her brother.

But she also had definite boundaries and he knew if he crossed the line she wouldn’t hesitate to knee him in the groin or spray his eyes with pepper spray. She was definitely the type of woman who carried that in her purse. He’d bet his life on it.

It sickened him that women had to worry about their safety like that. And he wondered why Kat was even more cautious than most. Common sense told him it was because she’d had a bad experience.

The thought made his hands involuntarily curl into fists.

Something about Kat made him want to protect her so she could drop her hard shell and let her softness shine through.

“Now it’s your turn to tell me more about yourself,” Marco said.

“There’s not much to say.”

And there it was again—that wall she’d built around herself. He didn’t think she was being modest so much as she didn’t like to share. She didn’t want to let people in.

That just made him all the more determined.

He almost prompted her to tell him about her work, but then he’d have to confess to being an Adamo. There was no way he could let her talk about her job and feign ignorance.

He leaned his elbows on the table. “You mentioned you just started at Adamo. What did you do before that?”

“I was a bartender.”

“You’ve been holding out. I bet you have much better stories than my boot camp stories.”

“Not really. Just drunk people doing stupid things.” The distaste was evident in her voice. “The last few years, I worked in an upscale hotel and at formal events, so it was pretty boring actually.”

“Do you like your office job better?”

She shrugged. “I think so. I haven’t been there very long, but it definitely pays better.”

“Well, that’s important.”

The server arrived with their dessert and the check, which Marco grabbed before Kat could reach it.

“What are you doing?” she asked angrily.

“This is my treat.” He pulled his wallet out and slapped a credit card in the folder, handing it to the server before Kat could argue more.

She crossed her arms. “I was supposed to pay. I owe you for the parts.”

“Your company is payment enough.”

“You were never going to let me pay, were you?”

“Nope.” He held out a spoon and she eyed him for a moment before sighing and taking it.

“You know that’s not right.” She poked at the brownie with her spoon, scooping up a small bite. She put the spoon to her mouth and then sighed, closing her eyes as she chewed. “But this brownie? This brownie is everything that’s right in the world.”

He watched her as she enjoyed the chocolate, licking the bit of chocolate sauce that had landed on her full lower lip.

He wanted to taste her mouth. Those lips begged for his own to worship them. Chocolate was optional.

“I’m glad you approve,” he said, dragging his gaze away lest he make her uncomfortable. “So do you forgive me for deceiving you?”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t let me pay for the parts. You just met me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s true. But it’s not about whether or not I owe you something. It’s about you needing help and me being able to provide it.”

“But—”

“If I hadn’t suggested dinner as payment, would you have gone out with me?”

She opened her mouth for a moment and then clamped it shut, pursing her lips.

“Well?” Marco prodded. He knew the answer, but he still wanted her to say it.

“Okay, fine. I wouldn’t have gone out with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t date.”

“Why would a beautiful woman like you not date?”

“I don’t have time.”

“Liar.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and he held her gaze as he scooped up a piece of the dessert.

Finally she just shook her head. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

The server returned with his credit card and receipt. He shoved the card out of the way so he could sign.

Her spoon clattered to the table.

“You’re an Adamo?”