Chapter Nine
Main Street in Hidden Falls was as busy as Little Italy during the annual San Gennaro Festival in New York City. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, Sara thought. But for a small town near the Canadian border, the streets were pretty crowded. Throughout the morning, she’d met many locals, including Rafe’s Uncle Pirro, a happy, kind gentleman who obviously adored his family. She couldn’t see him looking for comfort or anything else from a woman other than his wife. But as Sara knew too well, appearances were often deceiving. Who knew what Pirro did in his spare time?
Today, however, everyone was mingling together, enjoying the sunshine and the festival, including Rafe and his brother, who were watching every move she and Angel made. But they weren’t the only ones. Biff and Todd were never far away, either, constantly offering to restock the pies or buy them food or drink from another stand. Their attention made Sara uncomfortable. If she didn’t already know the men had made their reservations way in advance, she’d be concerned that maybe they had been sent by John Morley, but their reservation preceded her coming here. They might be too clingy and preppy for her taste, but they weren’t hit men.
Joy, the woman Sara had met at Angel’s yesterday, walked by and purchased an apple pie. Sara caught sight of her a few more times during the day. She mostly kept to herself, and Sara even toyed with the idea of introducing her to Biff and Todd, but then she remembered Joy was engaged. Better to leave well enough alone.
“Ladies,” a familiar male voice said.
Speak of the devil, Sara thought. Biff stood in front of the booth, Todd at his side.
“Hello,” she said in a deliberately cool tone.
She wanted to keep her distance from these two, mostly because she knew they annoyed Rafe, and she didn’t want to instigate trouble. He was looking out for her physical well-being. She could do no less for his emotional one.
“Are you enjoying the festival?” Angel, ever the warm proprietress, asked the two men.
“I am. It’s a nice town you have here,” Biff said.
“What brings you upstate, anyway?” When Sara was curious, her inquisitive nature took over.
The men met each other’s gaze before Todd turned back to face her. “We work for a wine distributor in New York, and we’re looking to make new contacts.”
“Makes sense,” Angel agreed. “We have quite a few vineyards in the area and a lot of people interested in doing business during festival time.”
“Have you been successful so far?” Sara asked.
“We’ve met some nice people, but we’ve yet to hook up with the main person we want to do business with,” Todd said.
“That’ll come soon enough.” Biff spoke with cool confidence. “But that’s not the reason we came back to your booth.”
“What is?” Angel asked.
“Just want to offer to get you ladies some lemonade. The day’s getting hotter, and we thought you might be thirsty.”
Sara had been saying no thank you for most of the morning, but Rafe was glaring from across the way. “I’d love some,” she said, hoping they’d go for the drinks and forget to come back.
“Me, too,” Angel said. “Thanks.”
The men smiled, obviously pleased they were needed and headed off to the lemonade stand.
The line of people who’d formed behind them edged forward, eager to buy Angel’s pies. Especially the mini ones that people could eat while they enjoyed the fair, something Sara understood well. She’d snuck more than one as a snack and wouldn’t be surprised if she’d cut into Angel’s profits. She was definitely glad she’d worn a skirt with a stretch waist.
Apparently, sex last night made her hungry today.
Amazing sex.
Hot sex.
Sex with one very special person.
Across the crowded street, she met Rafe’s gaze.
To outsiders, he manned the family spice booth along with his brother, speaking to people who came to taste their famous Italian spices on dishes Mariana had made. But Sara recognized the look on his face, the fierce determination that told her he was in cop mode, on the lookout for anyone unusual in the crowd of neighbors and strangers. His protective nature eased her own nerves and enabled her to enjoy the festival. But it was the caring, sensual looks he reserved for her alone that kept her tingling and in a constant state of anticipation.
Sara couldn’t stop thinking about being with him last night. They’d had breathtaking, off-the-charts sex. He’d been everything she’d dreamed about and more. More referring to the bond they shared. An emotional link that went deeper than the connection between their bodies.
They’d once been partners, and she’d thought they couldn’t get any more in sync.
She’d been wrong.
Sex with Rafe had been a perfect dance. As perfect as the way she’d known he’d yell drop on the rooftop even before the words escaped his perfect mouth.
“What are you smiling about?” Angel asked, breaking into her thoughts. “You’re practically glowing!”
“I was just thinking about how delicious your pies are. And wondering if I could sneak another without you noticing.” She rubbed her stomach, which was already craving another pie.
Angel shook her head. “No, you’re not glowing from food, although these days that’s the only way I can get those rosy cheeks. It’s Rafe. He’s putting that glow in your cheeks.”
“What makes you say that?”
Angel shot her a knowing look. “The way you’re staring at him. The way he hasn’t stopped staring at you.”
“Oh. Well.” Caught, Sara raised her hands to her heated face.
“Yes. Well.” Angel grinned. “I remember those days when Nick used to put a smile like that on my face.” She sighed wistfully.
“You miss him.”
“Of course I miss him.” She slowly lowered herself into a chair behind the counter. “You don’t lose your other half and not miss them.”
“Have you told him?” Sara asked. Because from where Sara sat, Nick was looking at Angel the same way. He obviously longed to be back with his wife.
Angel tipped her head to one side. “Have you told Rafe he blows your mind?” she shot back, a grin on her face.
“Direct and to the point. Now, see, this is why we get along so well.” Sara laughed. “So, have you told him?”
Angel shook her head. “No. There’s no point. Not until he accepts the new me, career and all. Missing just isn’t enough.”
“I understand.” After all, wasn’t that the same reason she and Rafe had initially agreed not to get involved?
Because they couldn’t accept certain things about each other and what they believed? It was also why Sara wasn’t about to have a morning-after conversation with him.
“So…your turn. Have you told Rafe how you feel?”
“We have an understanding,” Sara said vaguely.
A silent agreement—sex until it was time to go home.
She could live with that.
“I remember those days of easy sex,” Angel said dreamily.
“If that’s all you’re looking for, Biff and Todd seem eager to fill the role.”
“Eew, no!” Angel said, laughing. “I may be separated, but I’m not desperate! Besides, I’m not really single. And even if I was interested in dating other men, those preppies aren’t my type.”
Sara nodded. “I prefer my men a little more manly, too.”
Once again, her gaze drifted to Rafe.
Her gaze locked with his, and he inclined his head in a tilt she found incredibly sexy. She could stare into those eyes forever, Sara thought.
“Lemonade as requested!” Biff said, breaking her connection with Rafe, whose expression soured as he caught sight of their returning admirers.
His brother took an angry step out of the booth, but Rafe grabbed the other man’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
Crisis between husband and wife averted, Sara thought.
At least for now.
Rafe had had to physically restrain more than his share of men during his career, but holding back his brother was a first. He understood the impulse that drove Nick to want to plant his fist in the preppy men’s faces, but it wouldn’t be cool.
“Relax,” he said to Nick. “You don’t want to make a scene in front of the entire town and piss Angel off.”
His brother’s shoulders relaxed, but Rafe wouldn’t release his grip. Not until he was sure Nick wouldn’t go for the men again.
“Are you okay?” Rafe asked.
Nick, still breathing hard, nodded.
“And you won’t go off half-cocked?”
Nick shook his head.
Rafe loosened his grip but remained ready to restrain his brother again.
“She doesn’t have to be so damned nice to them,” Nick muttered. He braced his hand on the counter in the makeshift booth.
“She does when they’re paying her room and board,” Rafe said pointedly.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Someone has to. The bed-and-breakfast is part of the problem. Your problem.”
Nick let out a groan. “What does she see in them, anyway?” he asked, his gaze traveling to Biff and Todd.
Clearly, it was time to knock sense into his brother’s thick head. “Let’s see—they’re young and good-looking,” Rafe said, trying not to gag on his own words. “And they’re hanging around Angel and making her feel good. Why wouldn’t she like the attention?”
Why wouldn’t Sara?
The thought jumped out at him, and Rafe’s insides curled with jealousy. The difference between himself and his brother, however, was that Rafe wouldn’t let two strangers poach his woman.
His woman.
Uh-oh.
Sex does not make a relationship, he reminded himself. Especially not in Sara’s mind.
But it did in his.
“They have no right to even look at her. She’s married,” Nick said, his anger palpable.
“She’s separated,” Rafe qualified. “And if you don’t fix things soon, she might just end up divorced and free to do whatever she wants with whomever she chooses.”
“And that would kill me,” Pirro said, joining the men.
“Where did you come from?” Rafe asked.
“I went back home to pick up more calzones for my Vivian.” He tipped his head toward the far end of the booth, where Vivian and Rafe’s mother were selling their Italian dishes along with individual jars of spices. “Vivian’s calzones are molto bene!” He kissed his fingers and raised them in the air. “No, not just very good—the best!”
Pirro was obviously dedicated to his wife and still smitten, too.
Rafe thought back to his aunt’s claims and couldn’t imagine her husband finding comfort elsewhere. But he couldn’t talk to Pirro about it now. There were too many people around, and Nick still looked ready to blow a fuse.
“Now, what’s this nonsense about divorce?” Pirro asked, placing an arm around Nick’s shoulder. “My Angel is an independent woman, but there’s no reason why you two can’t work things out.”
“Right now he’s upset two of her guests are paying her a little too much attention,” Rafe explained.
“And she’s enjoying it too much,” Nick said.
Pirro nodded in understanding. “Ahh. Now I understand. Nick, you have to know how a woman’s mind works. When she’s not getting attention at home, she becomes starved for affection. Of course, she’ll be flattered when other men look her way. Even if it’s really her husband’s attention that she’s looking for.”
Man, couldn’t Nick see what everyone was trying to tell him? “Step up before it’s too late,” Rafe said to his brother.
And there was no time like the present. “Nick, let’s go on over to Angel’s booth. I don’t know about you, but I could go for some apple pie.”
Nick hated it when his brother was right. Things needed to change. Nick knew it. He just didn’t know how to make it happen. He headed over to Angel’s booth, determined not to argue with his wife and to take a step in the right direction for a change. He sure as hell wasn’t getting anywhere butting heads with her every time they were in the same vicinity.
The flow of traffic at Angel’s booth had faded, and the two women were sitting on stools, drinking lemonade and laughing. They presented a distinct contrast, Angel with her long, beautiful, jet-black hair and Sara with the blond halo flowing over her shoulders. The two women had obviously become friends in the short time Sara had been in town. Nick didn’t know a thing about her. He’d been so wrapped up in his own problems, he hadn’t taken the time to get to know his brother’s ex-partner or even find out why she was here. Though if the way Rafe looked at Sara was any indication, the reasons for her visit were extremely personal.
“How about some apple pie for two starving men?” Rafe asked, getting the women’s attention.
Sara met his gaze and greeted him with a wide smile.
Angel’s expression as she caught sight of Nick was much more wary. “Apple crumb or apple pie?” Angel asked politely.
Dammit, she knew which he preferred. She didn’t have to question him like he was an ordinary customer.
But he’d promised himself no picking an argument. “Pie,” Rafe and Nick answered at the same time.
Sara jumped up from her seat. “Two apple pies, coming up.” She walked over to the back, where the pies were stored.
Rafe immediately joined her, leaving Nick alone with Angel.
Nick shifted from foot to foot, unsure of where to begin. “Good day at the booth?” he finally asked.
She nodded. “Sold a lot of pies and booked B and B reservations into the fall.”
She just had to bring up the business. Testing him, he thought.
When he didn’t answer immediately, she locked her gaze on his and never flinched, waiting for a reply.
He was determined not to fail. He had to work through his problems with her owning the bed-and-breakfast and with them being unable to have a baby. Getting her to open up and talk to him would be an even bigger challenge.
“That’s great!” he said at last.
Her blue eyes grew wide and filled with hope. “Is it really?”
No. “Yes.” He hoped she didn’t notice he’d gritted his teeth. “Are you going to the dance tonight?” He changed the subject to one easier to deal with.
Angel’s shoulders and stance relaxed. “Actually, I am.”
His mood lightened. “So I’ll see you there,” he said, feeling upbeat for the first time in a long time. “And tomorrow night’s wine tasting?” he asked.
“That, too.”
In for a penny, he thought. “Save me a dance tonight?”
“Sure,” she said, but she sounded uncertain.
“Hey, we’ve just gone all of two minutes without fighting. I figured why not push our luck?”
She laughed, a free and easy sound he missed. “I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” A quiet moment passed with nothing but the sound of their breathing. No arguing, no bickering. It was time to get out before he put his foot in his mouth. “So, I’ll see you tonight?”
She blinked in obvious surprise. “What about your pie?”
He angled his head toward the back of the booth, where Rafe and Sara stood with their heads together, whispering and obviously lost in their own world, pie forgotten.
“Ahh.” Angel grinned.
“Yeah.” He grinned, too. “So, uh, I’ll catch up with you later?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step back. “And we’ll dance?”
She nodded. “We’ll dance.” This time she sounded more certain.
“Good.” He turned and headed for the booth, hoping they could sustain the truce longer than just this night.
Pirro loved life, but his happiness was tied to his family’s, and they were all an unhappy mess. His daughter was separated, his son-in-law, who he loved like his own, couldn’t see past his own pain and hurt to find his way back to the wife he loved, and Pirro’s own wife was out of sorts but wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. His side business was the only thing stress-free these days.
Pirro, on the other hand, valued what was important, and he decided to surprise his Vivian with flowers. Maybe that would cheer her up. He purchased the nicest bouquet he could find from Manny the florist, who’d set up a booth at the end of the street outside his shop.
Pirro paid, pocketed his change and turned to head back to the spice booth, but he was stopped by two young men he’d seen around town earlier. He didn’t know their names, but they were the only ones wearing argyle sweaters in the heat of summer, so they stood out even among the other strangers in town.
“Pirro DeVittorio?” the blonder of the two men asked.
“The one and only! What can I do for you? Is it my company’s homegrown basil that interests you?” He’d been fielding requests all day after people tasted Vivian’s calzone and asked what the secret ingredient was.
The blonde fellow eyed the darker-haired man and laughed. “Yeah, the basil.”
“My son-in-law, Nick, can give you information about product. I’m just in charge of distribution,” Pirro explained. “And while you’re discussing the basil, please take a look at our other products. I’m sure you’ll find our spices are better than any on the market today.”
“Pops, we don’t need the spiel. We’re already sold.”
Pirro grinned. “Well, that makes things simpler, but the same rules apply. My son-in-law is taking orders at the booth. Then we’ll be in touch as to shipment dates and times.”
The darker-haired man took a step closer. “No, we’ll tell you how it’s going to be. We want in on your supplier and distribution.”
Pirro raised an eyebrow. “You’re confused. My company, the Spicy Secret, is the supplier. Our spices are homegrown,” he said proudly. He’d worked his way up in the company, starting as a delivery boy when he was in high school. He’d been a part of their growth and success.
“Pops, you don’t have to play word games with us. We know you’re in the drug trade. So are we.”
“Drug trade?” Pirro narrowed his gaze. They couldn’t be referring to his side business. Nobody but close friends knew about that.
“Our bosses in New York just want access to your Canadian supplier. Tell him you’re ready to move into the harder stuff, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
They knew.
Pirro’s mouth grew dry. His side trade had happened accidentally after he’d married Vivian. He’d been good friends with her husband, and, after his passing, he began keeping Vivian company. Their friendship progressed to romance, they fell in love, and Pirro quickly discovered his old friend’s tales about his insatiable wife were true. Pirro had a hard time keeping up with Vi, but he didn’t want to disappoint her in bed. He confided in his doctor, who gave him a sample of Viagra and Pirro discovered the little pill was magic. But he couldn’t fill a prescription and risk his Vivian finding out his stamina wasn’t naturally his.
A friend told him about a friend who had a friend across the border in Canada who could get Viagra cheap. Pirro contacted the man, and soon he was meeting him monthly to pick up more pills. His barbershop group noticed his good mood, he admitted what caused the change and soon he became the Viagra king of Hidden Falls, supplying his friends with Viagra and single-handedly helping the sex life and maintaining the privacy of the town’s older male population. It was a harmless side business. But what these men wanted sounded dangerous.
“Who told you about the Viagra?” he asked.
“That doesn’t matter. The point is, we know and we want in on your supplier and use of your trucks to ship to New York.”
“Who do you boys think you are, coming to my hometown and making demands?” Pirro straightened his shoulders, and though he was shorter than both men, he was bulky enough to be intimidating.
“We’re the guys you don’t say no to,” the blond guy said, unfazed.
“Well, I just did.”
“Sorry. Wrong answer,” the darker-haired one said.
“But we’ll tell you what. Since we’re here for a few days, take some time and think about it. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.” He turned to his friend. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Pirro shivered and watched them leave, telling himself they’d go back to the city after the festival and everything would be fine. He hadn’t totally convinced himself, but he couldn’t possibly get involved in illegal drugs.
He walked through town, stopping at various booths, waving to friends, most of whom he’d known for years. Many of whom were now his customers. Pirro prided himself on taking care of the men in this town, men like him, who had erectile-dysfunction problems that a little pill called Viagra took care of.
Although Viagra was a prescription medication in the United States, most of his friends, like Pirro, didn’t want their wives to know about their little problem or lack of stamina. By purchasing across the border in Canada, there was no insurance involved, no paperwork, and best of all, no nosey Gertrude at the pharmacy to ring up their order and snitch to their wives. Pirro thought of supplying Viagra to his friends as a good deed. He didn’t mark up the pills or make a profit. He just made sure the men and women in town had their happy endings.
But what those two men wanted involved hard drugs, and, to make matters worse, they obviously wanted him to send those drugs to New York on company trucks for distribution in the city.
He shook his head and broke into a sweat. There had to be five kinds of felonies involved in what they were asking. No way would he agree, Pirro thought.
No way at all.