Cole was in the mafia. The motherfucking mafia.
The sun had begun to creep in. It was probably around seven in the morning, and I lay there, wide awake, as he slept next to me. The sheet trailed down, resting a little higher than his waist, giving me a good eyeful.
I knew his chest and back were contoured with muscles, but I didn’t know about the scars. I saw them clearly now, scattered all over him. There were two holes in his chest: one by his shoulder and another lower on his side. I leaned over and touched the latter. It was bigger than the other and had been stitched up, leaving a little ridge where the stitches healed.
This man—I studied his face again. His eyes were closed, his body relaxed, and he looked peaceful. I realized how little I knew about this man. He was the head of his family, but what did that mean? The articles I’d found on the web said Carter Reed had run the family until last year. One blog went into more detail than the others and said he’d been the one to name Cole as the new leader.
My mind raced.
If there was peace between the Mauricio family and the Bertals, why did Liam’s parents seem guilty of something? They were scared and tense, and all that jazz, but there was more under the surface. Carol had gotten the same look on her face the one time I confronted her about the women she kept pushing on Liam. I went to her house, told her to stop bringing them around. She’d looked ashamed that day, but only that day.
I saw that same look last night.
Maybe it wasn’t just that peace doesn’t always last, as Cole said, but that it was already ending?
I skimmed a hand down Cole’s side. He rolled over on his stomach and buried his head under my pillow. One of his arms came to rest on my waist, scooping me closer to him. I waited, but a second later his breathing evened out, like he’d fallen back asleep.
“Your thinking is waking me up.” One of his eyes opened. “Stop thinking. It’s annoyingly loud. I haven’t slept in three days, and all I want to do is stay in bed with you. Go to sleep, Addison.”
“What does it mean?”
“What does what mean?” His arm tightened its hold around me. It felt nice.
“Can we be like this? I mean, with my connection to the Bertals and yours to, well, you know.”
Could Cole get in trouble? Could I? And what did trouble even mean in his world? Death? I shuddered at that thought.
“It means…” He caught my hand at his hip, lacing our fingers together. “…that I can’t share anything with you.”
“And if you do?”
He rolled to his back again and observed me. His eyes darkened. “And if I do, then you’re in. You’re all the way in.”
My stomach flipped over. “What does that mean?”
“You’re officially a traitor to your in-laws and everyone else connected to Liam’s life.”
His hand traveled up, covering my side, over my arm, leaving shivers in its wake. Or maybe those were from his words. I was starting to not discern the difference.
“Does something happen to me? If they cast me a traitor to them?”
He shook his head. “You mean, do they kill you or something?”
God. I couldn’t answer. I could only move my head up and down.
“No.”
The ball of tension that had formed in my stomach loosened a notch. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. They’ll only put a hit on you if you have something to give me, something they don’t want me to have.” His eyes narrowed. He seemed to be waiting for something.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He caught my other hand and pulled me over on top of him. My breasts rubbed his chest and he wrapped his arms around my waist, anchoring me in place. “We can’t go public, not unless you’re ready. It has to be your decision.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll cut you off. There won’t be an order on you, but I meant what I said. Any ties you had to Liam’s family will be severed. Is there anyone you care for?”
I laughed. “No. I don’t even have to think about that question. I’ve always talked as little with his family as possible. His dad never cared about our marriage, and his mother hated it. Liam didn’t get along with his sister, and I never met his younger brother. We felt like it was us against the world sometimes.”
Cole’s gaze drifted to my lips and lingered there. He traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “They didn’t like you because you weren’t Bertal-approved. I can tell you that.”
I lifted my head, and he let go of my lip. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“They like to marry within their structure of associates. I’m sure Carol had other women she wanted Liam to wed. You’re an outsider. Outsiders are…” He hesitated, eyeing me. “They can be a risk.”
“I read some articles that talked about an Emma person? She’s with your friend Carter, the one from last night. Is it the same for her as it is for me?”
He shook his head. “No. Emma was an outsider from the beginning. She wasn’t connected to another family, and Carter has known her a long time. They kinda grew up together. It’s more difficult with you because you’re connected to the enemy. If we went public and this, whatever it is, didn’t work out, you’d still be looked at as a traitor. You chose the enemy.”
It seemed logical in some stupid, schoolyard way. “I’m not connected to them anyway, so I can’t imagine feeling any worse. I guess it doesn’t matter to me because Liam’s—”
I moved off of him to sit on the bed. Cole turned to watch as I rested the side of my face to the tops of my knees. I couldn’t hide my sadness. “Grief is a bitter fuck-you pill, isn’t it?”
He grunted. His hand went to my leg and began caressing it—for comfort, nothing more. “I wasn’t lying when I told you about my family. I lost every family member, one after another, until it was just me. Grief and I go way back.” He smirked. “We’re old pals.”
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t imagine that. I didn’t want to. “I wanted to go with him.”
“Addison,” Cole murmured, sitting up beside me.
I tucked my forehead into my knees. The little girl in me wanted to close my eyes and disappear.
“It hurts to start living without them. I get it.”
I was tired of the invisible weight on my shoulders. Cole lifted it, always, but this time I decided I was ready to choose to let it go. I tried for a smile. “So I guess there is a we if we’re talking about how we can’t go public?”
“We can be a we,” he teased, “if you don’t care what your in-laws do.”
“Even on good days, I don’t give a damn about them.”
“You said they’re suing you?”
I nodded. “They’re fighting my right to sell our house. They’re saying Liam bought it with their money, but he didn’t. He got some inheritance from his grandmother, and he used that money to pay for the house.”
“Was there a buyer ready?”
I shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
His glanced away, and I felt him pulling away, too.
“Hey.” I touched his hand. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. That’s just odd is all.” He sat up and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I caught his arm. “Why do I get the sense you’re about to get out of this bed?”
His face cleared. Whatever had been troubling him disappeared, and the softness from last night came back. He smiled, and his eyes darkened as he leaned down. His lips touched mine, holding there softly, like the promise of a caress, and he murmured, “We don’t have to stay in bed all day. There are other places we can go.”
“Like whe—” I let out a surprised shriek as he swung me in the air and carried me to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower.
I was ready for him, even as he waited for the water to heat up, even as he lowered me to the floor, even as he pressed me back against the wall. His head dipped, his lips found mine again, and I kissed him. But this was more. It wasn’t sex anymore. It wasn’t whatever he’d had before. There was laughter, teasing, but there were feelings.
There was more. We were more.
I think we already had been, even before he left the last time.