Chapter Six
Quinn
Turning on the oven light, I lean over and squint through the glass door to check on the tenderloin. I know it isn’t done, but I need an excuse to ignore my brothers for a moment, who won’t stop asking me about the twenty-two-year-old tutor joining us for dinner this evening.
“Needs another ten to fifteen,” I say gruffly as I stand up. “Alessandra should be here any minute, so I suppose I should get started on the wedges.”
I make my way to the fridge, continuing to ignore my brothers’ slightly judgmental stares, and pull out a couple of heads of iceberg lettuce to begin the process of preparing our first course.
“You can’t dodge our questions forever, you know,” Cooper says, a stupid grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
When I don’t respond, he nudges Gavin, who takes a long sip of his wine before saying, “Look, we’re glad you’ve finally started dating after thirteen years of ‘I’m too busy for that shit’, but we’re worried that you’ve fallen into an ‘I’m too old for this shit’ situation.”
I roll my eyes. “Alessandra is unlike any other woman I’ve met. If you guys would just give her a chance tonight, I promise, all this will make sense.”
“Of course she’s unlike any other woman you’ve met. She was still in diapers when you got your first hard-on.” Gavin scoffs, downing the rest of his glass.
“I can’t believe you, of all people, are giving me a hard time for dating a younger woman. It’s not like you’ve never been there before,” I say, slicing the last wedge of lettuce with gusto.
Gavin’s eyes narrow. “And look how well that ended.”
I know I’ll regret dredging up his past like that later, but I’m quickly growing tired of my brothers’ judgment. Especially since they’ve both had colorful romantic pasts of their own.
“We’re just worried about you, that’s all,” Cooper says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Shrugging his hand off me, I plate the wedges, then drizzle the lettuce with my homemade dressing and sprinkle crumbled bacon on top. “I don’t need you to worry. I need you to give Alessandra a chance.”
Just as I finish talking, Emma and Corinne enter the kitchen, partly to join our conversation, but mostly to refill their glasses of rosé.
“Yes, when will Alessandra be arriving?” Emma asks, arching a perfectly plucked brow at me. “When Gavin told me you were dating, I couldn’t wait to meet the lucky girl.” As she speaks, she moves to stand next to Gavin, placing her hand in the center of his back.
I watch as Corinne instinctively does the same thing, standing next to Cooper and looping her arm around his. I’m happy for my brothers, but it’s becoming uncomfortable being the only unmarried Kingsley brother.
Before I can answer Emma, the doorbell rings and a wave of relief washes over me. It’s easy for my brothers to ask their judgmental questions, but I know they’re socially competent enough to be cordial in Alessandra’s presence, whether they approve of our relationship or not.
But, dammit, I just want them to give her a chance.
As I walk to the front door, I turn and give Gavin and Cooper one last behave yourselves look, to which they both shrug and furrow their brows.
I open the door to find Alessandra standing there, a bottle of wine in one hand and an olive tray in the other. Despite the worried look on her face, she looks as gorgeous as ever, her long, dark hair swept into a side braid, perfectly complementing the off-the-shoulder top she paired with jeans that hug her curves in all the right places.
As I stand there, taking her in, a whispered bellissima crosses my lips without my even thinking about it.
For a moment, Alessandra’s face softens, and she quickly steps toward me to plant a grateful kiss on my lips. If it weren’t for the wine and the olive tray in her hands, I would fully embrace her, but I don’t want to stress her out even more.
As we part, she scurries into the entryway behind me, and before walking into the kitchen, turns and begins talking faster than I’ve ever heard her talk before.
“I know you told me not to bring anything, but my mom always said you should never walk into a party empty-handed, and I was worried that if I didn’t bring something, your brothers would think I was just another asshole millennial, so I don’t know what you’re making tonight, but I hope it goes with wine and olives. Is the braid okay? Am I dressed nice enough? I didn’t want to overdo it, but I also wanted to communicate that I’m respectful of the family Sunday dinner tradition—”
Before she can continue, I cut her off by leaning in and placing another kiss on her lips. For a moment, Alessandra freezes, obviously surprised by the gesture. But within seconds, she softens again, parting her lips and running her tongue gently around mine.
Suddenly, she breaks away, her eyes frantic. “My lipstick! We can’t walk in there with lipstick all over our faces!” She begins pacing, searching the walls of my home for a mirror. “You’re lucky I decided to go with a nude. If I’d worn the darker color, we’d both be toast.”
I chuckle and run the back of my hand over my mouth to wipe off any traces of lipstick.
Alessandra smiles and uses her thumb to rub a bit of lipstick off my upper lip. “Am I good?” she asks, turning her face from side to side.
“Perfect,” I say, smiling broadly at her. “They’re going to love you. Especially Emma and Corinne—they do love a good red.”
She smiles and follows me into the kitchen, where both Cooper and Gavin stand to greet her. They each shake Alessandra’s hand and exchange pleasantries before returning to their seats at the bar of the island, at which point Emma and Corinne descend upon her. They shower Alessandra with praises and questions about her hair, her clothes, and her choice of wine, greeting her with the kind of excitement I’ve only ever seen occur between women.
It’s clear to me in this moment that my sisters-in-law have decided together to make every effort possible to make Alessandra feel comfortable, regardless of their husbands’ reservations about her. I’ve never been more grateful for their taste in women, even if my two brothers weren’t as sweet and as welcoming as their wives.
Once the welcoming committee dies down, I pour Alessandra a glass of wine, and she takes it from me so quickly, I’m almost surprised when she doesn’t drain it. For as nervous as I know she is, Alessandra is handling the situation like a champ, and I make a note to myself to remember to tell her so later.
“So, Alessandra,” Cooper says, swirling the wine in his glass. “Quinn’s told us you’ve just graduated with a degree in. . .Italian?”
“Classics,” she says, smiling and nodding her head as she corrects him. “But yes, I studied Italian, as well.”
“And what do classics majors do after college?” Gavin asks. I’m not sure, but it seems to me that his sharp gaze is somehow more piercing than usual.
Alessandra chuckles, tucking her hair behind her ear before answering. “I’ve been a nanny since I graduated, along with the tutoring. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s been enough to get by.” She pauses, her gaze flitting nervously to me before settling back on Gavin. “I’ve been saving up, actually, because I’m moving to Italy in a few weeks to teach. That’s been my dream for years, and I’m finally in a position to make it happen.”
While Emma and Corinne respond with the appropriate level of excitement to Alessandra’s news about Italy, I can’t ignore the concern on my brothers’ faces. Gavin and Cooper exchange hesitant looks with each other, then look at me with their brows raised.
Their expressions say it all. We don’t always get along, but my brothers and I are still pretty in sync. They’re worried about me. And if I’m being honest with myself, hearing Alessandra talk about leaving the country again, even after the time we’ve been spending together, sends pangs of worry and sadness coursing through me.
Before Gavin or Cooper can say anything about the impending move, I pull the meat out of the oven and place it on the countertop with a flourish. “Why don’t you all grab a wedge and sit down while I carve the tenderloin,” I say, nodding to the dining room.
“I’ll help you,” Cooper says, stepping around Corinne and joining me by the food.
I nod and watch as Corinne loops her free arm through Alessandra’s, asking her questions about her plans for Italy. I’m more grateful than ever for my wonderful sisters-in-law, and take a moment to plan my defense tactics for whatever Cooper plans to say while pretending to help me.
“Italy?” He leans on his elbows while watching me carve the meat.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, refusing to look him in the eye. Whether his worry is valid or not, there’s no way I’m going to admit to it.
“What’s the end game here, Quinn? I’d understand if you were just screwing around, but this? Joining us for Sunday dinner? Introducing her to your family? It seems like you’re barreling down a road that leads nowhere.”
I sigh and set the carving knife down on the counter. “I don’t know, Coop. I’m just trying to spend time with her while I can.”
At that, he softens, but before he can say anything else, I pick up the dish of sliced tenderloin in one hand and the roasted vegetables in the other and escape to the dining room.
I push all thoughts of Alessandra leaving out of my head. Now is not the time to go down that road.
I set the food on the table and take my seat next to Alessandra. “Buon appetito,” I say, winking at her. She smiles and places her hand gently on my knee before taking the first bite of her meal.
As everyone starts eating, we chat about the recent renovations at the library where Emma works, as well as the new program she and Corinne are organizing with the library for the disabled community. The two of them are doing amazing things in the Boston area, and I can’t be prouder to call them family.
“Speaking of work,” Emma says after explaining the logistics of the program, “how’s the Kingsley empire running these days?”
“Yeah, Quinn, I don’t know how we haven’t talked much about this yet, but I would love to know more about the world of dating services,” Alessandra says, turning to me with a playful smile.
Cooper and Gavin stare at her for a moment, then turn to me with their brows raised.
“We run an escort service,” Gavin says bluntly.
Ever the fucking charmer. I hoped to avoid this topic for a little while longer, since it can be like walking into a land mine.
“We provide high-end dates to wealthy clients. It’s less a dating service and more a one-night thing,” Cooper adds, trying to soften the details a bit.
“Oh, that sounds. . .interesting,” Alessandra mumbles, taking a sip of her wine. I can tell from the look on her face that she’s shocked, and I brace myself for a barrage of awkward questions.
Much to my surprise, she says nothing and lets the conversation drift off to the next topic. Even though she’s cordial and polite for the rest of the meal, I can tell she’s holding something back, and I resolve to talk to her about it later.
My brothers and their wives leave shortly after we finish eating. We all have work early tomorrow morning, and married life has moved their bedtimes significantly earlier.
As I shut the door behind them, I turn to find Alessandra standing nervously in the entryway, her purse slung over her shoulder.
“I don’t want to keep you,” she says, taking a step toward the door.
“Do you have to leave so soon?” I ask, stepping toward her. I can tell from the look on her face that she’s overwhelmed, and while I want her to stay, I don’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
“I just don’t know what we’re doing, Quinn,” she says on a sigh. She adjusts the purse strap on her shoulder and looks down at the floor. “I saw the way your brothers looked at you when I told them I was going to Italy. I may be young, but I’m not stupid. Maybe they’re right. Maybe this is all one huge mistake.”
“Alessandra…” I reach out to take her hand, but she pulls away.
“I don’t want to cause you any issues. I’m only here for a short time, and I…” She crosses her arms and leans away from me, her eyes suddenly dark and somber.
I step toward her, placing my hand on her cheek. “Stay, per favore,” I whisper, hoping that an Italian please will be more effective than an English one.
Alessandra smiles softly, turning her face in my hand to place a small kiss on my palm.
“Besides,” I say, pulling her into me and leading her to the kitchen, “I need help with all these dishes.”
We wash the dishes in comfortable silence. As much as I want to ask her what she thinks of my brothers and reassure her about our time together, I decide that giving her some time to relax will be helpful. Once the dishes are done, I pour us each another glass of wine and lead her to the living room.
We each take a seat on opposite ends of the couch, and after taking a sip of her wine, Alessandra looks at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry you were blindsided by the truth about our business,” I say, ready to be more honest with her than ever. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know, it’s just. . .difficult to explain sometimes.”
Alessandra nods and raises her eyebrows, prompting me to continue.
“As Cooper said, it’s a high-end thing. Like when a CEO needs a date for a charity gala. A lot of these wealthy, powerful men are too busy to actually date, so we provide competent, attractive women for them to have on their arm. For a hefty fee, of course. We take excellent care of our girls, and make sure nothing bad happens to them.”
Alessandra nods again, more slowly this time, clearly thinking through what I just told her. “I’m fine with all that,” she says. “I mean, no judgment here. It’s just. . .you don’t sleep with the women, do you?” She looks me in the eye then, her gaze wide and searching.
“No, never.”
“How did you three get into this business? It seems like a very specific field to be working in.”
I nod, sipping my wine while deciding what exactly to tell her. When I look over at her, I can see she isn’t looking for a reason to judge or reprimand me. She wants to understand, that’s all. I know in that very moment that this woman deserves to know the truth, so with a small sigh, I begin to explain my family history.
“Our father wasn’t really around growing up, and it was hard for our mother with three boys. Eventually, she had to turn to less mainstream forms of employment. When things got bad, to put food on the table, she turned to prostitution. My brothers and I spent so many years protecting her and making sure that no one harmed her, that when she died so young. . .we sort of fell into this business. We knew that for some women, this was the only option, and if we weren’t there to protect them, someone else would take advantage. So, we started Forbidden Desires. Growing up, we never thought our experiences with our mother would translate into a future business, but here we are, all these years later.”
I shake my head as I finish my explanation, placing my hands in my lap. It isn’t as painful to share as it once might have been, but I’m always a little nervous opening up to people.
Alessandra scoots next to me on the couch, taking my large hand in her small one and bringing it to her lips. She places a gentle kiss on the back of it, murmuring, “Thank you for opening up like that. I know how difficult that must have been because I imagine others may judge you for the services that you offer. Please know that I’m not that kind of person. Thank you for dinner. I had no idea you were such a good cook.”
We both chuckle, and I pull her closer, staring into her eyes before bringing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She responds by parting her lips and slipping her tongue into my mouth, as she wraps her arms around me. Our breathing grows heavier and heavier, until Alessandra swings her leg around to straddle me on the couch, grinding her body into mine. And, fuck, it feels good.
My hands wander over her back and down to her perfect ass, running over it softly before giving both cheeks a firm squeeze. Alessandra responds by slipping her hands under my sweater, pressing her palms softly into my chest before running them down to my belt, which she slowly begins to unbuckle. As her hands unfasten my pants, she moves her mouth to my neck, nibbling softly upward until her lips brush against my earlobe, at which point she whispers, “I really hope you’re going to take me to a nice restaurant soon.”
As the words leave her mouth, she slips her hand inside my jeans to feel my throbbing cock through my briefs. I groan at her touch but shift my hips away from her, remembering what I told her about our first time.
“Soon.” I groan, nuzzling into her neck and delighting in the soft moans each kiss draws out of her. “How about Thursday night?”
Alessandra pulls back for a moment, her hand still reaching for my erection, and asks, “Our lesson?"
“Instead of our regular lesson,” I whisper, moving to nibble around her collarbone, “we could go to dinner. There’s another great Italian restaurant I know. We’ll go there to talk and to eat. . .it could be a good way to really immerse ourselves in the culture.”
“As long as you let me order,” she says, taking my face in both her hands and looking excitedly in my eyes. “You’re an excellent cook, but I’m worried that your Italian will have us pairing red wine and fish.”
“As my tutor, I believe that would be your fault,” I say with a laugh.
“I can’t help it if Sal let you develop bad habits.”
“Sal might have let me get away with a few things, but he certainly never let me do this.”
In one smooth motion, I flip Alessandra over onto her back lengthwise on the couch. She giggles, and her giggles quickly turn into moans as I move my mouth over her neck and use my fingers to elicit pleasure-filled sighs from her.
Even if tonight won’t be our first time, I’m determined to make the most of my time with Alessandra before she gets on a plane and flies out of my life forever.