Chapter Seventeen
Francesca Morelli
“I don’t want a cupcake.”
My mouth curves down into a slight pout. I sigh, sliding into the passenger seat of Vince’s car and balancing the rejected cupcake box in my lap. Maybe he’ll want it later. “I’m really sorry,” I tell him. “Maybe I should’ve kept my nose out of it, but I had no idea.”
Sal came through for me with the private investigator, but it turned out Vince left a lot out of his version of events when he told me about the girl he liked. Sal’s brother-in-law-person uncovered his secrets in the snap of a finger, and now Vince’s relationship has gone to shit. I know it’s my fault, and I know given my own clandestine love it’s hypocritical, but I think it’s for the best. Mateo and Vince don’t have the best relationship to begin with; Mateo is even less likely to accept Vince’s situation than mine.
“I shouldn’t have let Cherie bring her to the bakery,” he mutters, throwing the car in reverse and flicking a glance in the rearview mirror as he backs out of the spot.
“I hate that you’re mad at me. You know I never intended to hurt you.”
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad at… every-fucking-thing. I knew better than to involve her and I did it anyway. It’s his fault for being such a suspicious dickhead. She wouldn’t have said anything, and I wouldn’t have had to hide her if he was a normal fucking person who would keep his nose out of my business.”
Since I stuck my own nose in his business, I can’t really say much about that. “I don’t know if it makes things feel better or worse, but she really liked you,” I tell him. “She came to the bakery to tell me off after you guys broke up.”
The corner of his mouth curves up, but it’s only a ghost of a smile, heavily painted with sadness. “It just sucks. I really liked her. She knows about the worst thing I’ve ever done, and she still likes me.”
I wish there was something I could say or do to fix it, but if I can’t resolve my own hopeless love story, I don’t see what I can do about his. It won’t make him feel any better to point out that they’re so young, and the likelihood of that relationship lasting—or at least, staying happy, because Morelli men have a tendency to make relationships last whether the women want them to or not—were so slight. It wouldn’t make him feel better to tell him that if he really likes Mia, he shouldn’t want to condemn her at 18-years-old to life as a Morelli woman. Even if Vince wasn’t like the rest of them, even if he wanted to let her go when their relationship fizzled, Mateo wouldn’t let that happen. Not with the damning evidence she has, placing Adrian at the scene of Vince’s crime.
If Mateo ever realizes what Mia knows, there’ll be no saving her.
It’s for the best that they broke up—at least for her.
Reaching over to give him a little side squeeze, I tell him, “I’m really proud of you, you know. It was the right thing to do, and I know it hurt you to do it.”
“Speaking of doomed relationships,” he deadpans, glancing over at me, “aren’t you supposed to be with Castellanos tonight?”
I nod, grabbing the cupcake and moving it to the floorboard, tired of balancing it on the tops of my legs. “I was, but this was more important.”
“I didn’t realize you two had gotten serious enough for him to do your dirty work for you,” he remarks a bit dryly.
I can’t help grinning. “He’d commission a hit if I asked him to.”
“Nice.”
I nod, feeling a little moony. “It is.”
“Maybe you should issue a hit on Mateo,” Vince mutters. “Solve all our problems.”
“It wouldn’t solve all mine. His dad doesn’t like our family, and he probably wouldn’t issue a hit on his own dad.” Then, because I have to, I raise my eyebrows severely. “And you shouldn’t joke about that. Mateo’s sixth sense will whisper to him that someone’s plotting his death and we’ll all be in trouble.”
“Obviously I wouldn’t really plot his death,” he says, rolling his eyes. “He’s just a pain in my ass.”
“He is a pain in all our asses,” I agree. Then, more because I feel like cheering him up than because it’s a likelihood, I add, “And hey, look on the bright side. If this Mia girl is your soulmate, maybe you’ll cross paths later. A couple years from now, she’s in college, enough time has passed that this wouldn’t cross anyone’s mind—you can date her then. It could be worse.”
Vince grunts. He’s not blessed with excessive patience, so the scenario is probably not appealing to him.
I wish my obstacle had an end date. If I only had to wait a couple of years to be with Sal out in the open, I’d happily do that. Unfortunately, I think I’d have to wait for his dad to die, and then hope Mateo wanted to cooperate.
We fall silent for a few minutes. Vince broods and I check my Sal phone. Seeing he sent me a text, I can’t stifle a smile. I type back, wishing I wouldn’t have canceled on him. I see him every couple of days, but it’s not enough. I want to see him every day. Days without Sal are dumb.
“Where are we going for dinner?” I ask Vince as I slip my purse back into my handbag.
“I dunno,” he mutters.
“We should probably figure it out. Wanna grab a pizza?”
“No, not pizza.”
“We should just go to Sal’s,” I say, only half-joking. “He already has everything there for dinner, and I’d love for you to meet him.”
Vince shakes his head, glancing over at me. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“I met his sister,” I tell him.
Vince knows about Sal, since I had him come pick me up that first night we met for drinks. I don’t worry about Vince knowing though; he’s extremely loyal, and I know he’d never sell my secret out to Mateo.
“Well, that’s pretty ballsy,” he remarks.
“She’s nice. Too old for you, otherwise I’d hook you up.”
Vince rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we need. Two of us chasing after Castellanos offspring.”
“Hey, we all know what it’s like to live in whacky families. She is single. Her ex was a huge douche.”
“I am not back on the market yet, but thanks anyway.”
“She’s not there tonight anyway. Wanna go meet Sal?”
“I do not.” He glances at me briefly. “No offense, but I’ve done enough to cross Mateo lately. I think I need to refocus my attention, maybe stop doing things that could get me killed for a little while.”
I smile faintly, even though it’s not a joke. “Yeah, that’s probably a good call. Let’s go to that farm-to-table place we went to last time. They had good pizza.”
“You and your damn pizza,” he says, shaking his head.
“They have other stuff, too,” I defend. “Why are you suddenly anti-pizza? I’m not sure we can be cousins anymore.”
His voice rises a little, and I rear back, surprised. “I just don’t want pizza, okay?”
Blinking a few times, I turn my attention away, looking out the windshield. “Okay, sorry. It was a joke.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood to joke, either,” he mutters.
I guess I wouldn’t be, either. If I would’ve just had to dump Sal today, my heart would be split in half. I glance over at Vince, wishing I knew something to say, but there’s nothing. Only time will ease the ache.
---
My hand doesn’t even make it to the doorbell and Sal’s already wrenching the door open, a grin on his face.
My heart swells at the sight of him. I go right into his arms, peace enveloping me as he hugs me. “I don’t have long,” I tell him, even though he already knows. Sal has a tendency to try to get me to stay longer when I slip away from the bakery, and I have a tendency to want to let him.
“I’m sure Mark’s got everything under control,” he says, brushing a soft kiss across my lips and stepping back to let me inside.
He helps me out of my jacket, hanging it on the coat hook next to his. Just the sight of our two coats hanging side by side makes me yearn a little. I’m so far gone, it’s ridiculous.
“I just got here a few minutes ago,” he tells me, taking my hand and hauling me toward the kitchen. “I didn’t have time to get lunch started.”
“That’s fine,” I say, dropping my purse on the chair by the island. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m a pretty good cook.”
“Good thing,” he says, lightly. “I definitely couldn’t marry you otherwise.”
I grin, loving this new joke. I don’t even care how impossible it is, I’ll never nitpick any mention of marriage falling from Salvatore’s sexy lips.
My gaze drops to other sexy parts of him as he bends to grab vegetables and a salad container out of the refrigerator.
Mm, I like him.
Less interested in food all of a sudden, I walk over to him. He glances up with a question in his gray eyes, but I answer it, bringing my hand to the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. He drops the food on the counter, his strong arms moving around my waist. My pulse kicks up when his tongue sweeps into my mouth, strong and sure, leading me. He turns me, backing me up against the counter.
He’s wearing a button-down today, and even though I didn’t expect more than lunch on my way over, now I can’t keep my fingers off his buttons.
“Are we doing naked lunch?” he asks, eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You should always be naked,” I inform him.
Sal smirks, his gaze raking over my fully-clothed form as I undress him. “I could say the same about you.”
I feel kind of bad I made him wait so long for sex—not because I owed it to him or anything, but because I really did want him. It kills me to let my horrid ex have control over my life now that he’s blessedly out of it, and I never want Sal to have to pay for his sins.
I’m also dating the sexiest man I’ve ever had the good fortune to look at, let alone make love to, so there’s that.
I can’t help smiling at my own thoughts as I slip the last button through its corresponding hole, pushing the shirt back and dragging it down his arms. My impulse is to drop to my knees, but I kind of want him to fuck me.
“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” Sal asks, cupping my face and bringing it closer, brushing his lips across my forehead.
“Timing. We still have to make lunch and I need to get back to the bakery, but…”
Bending his head to kiss my neck, he murmurs, “Fuck the bakery.”
I smirk. “I’d rather fuck you.”
Groaning into my neck, he pulls back abruptly, grabbing the hem of my shirt and dragging it up over my head. “It’s settled, then,” he announces, his hands dropping to the waistband of my jeans. He makes quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping.
“Should we go to the bedroom?” I ask, looking up at him.
His gray eyes bore into mine, dark with need, but still with a spark of humor as he shakes his head. “We’re short on time, remember? Walking to the bedroom takes so long.”
“Yeah, like a whole minute,” I shoot back, but he’s already yanking my jeans down my legs and turning me around to face the counter. I step out of the jeans for flexibility’s sake, then position myself for him. My pulse quickens at the sound of his zipper going down. His tan, sexy fingers ripping the top off a condom wrapper. I practically vibrate with yearning, needing to feel his hands on me.
He leans forward, dropping a trail of kisses down my spine. Chills follow. He makes everything feel so nice. It’s such a drastic difference from my only other experience. I wish I would’ve met him first.
His hands skim the curve of my hips, then he grips one and lets the other wander between my spread legs. I push my head back, sighing with pleasure as his hand cups my pussy, one finger pushing inside me. I’m already turned on, so it only takes a few seconds of him toying with me to make me slick enough for him to slide in.
He always thinks of me though, so he rubs circles around my clit anyway, sending little sparks of pleasure shooting through me. I’m still not used to that.
Finally he stops and shifts positions just a little, guiding his cock between my legs. It’s not just physical pleasure I feel as he slides inside me. I feel at peace, happy. He’s where he should be—with me. It’s the most satisfying feeling in the world, having a man who actually loves me push inside of me. He’s certainly the first in that regard. I hold onto the counter, Sal pumping into me. He’s moving slowly right now, giving me a chance to respond. A chance to change my mind. I feel bad that he thinks he has to do that, but no part of me wants him to stop.
“You okay?” he murmurs, drawing his hips back and slowly pushing inside me again.
“That feels so good,” I assure him.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Confident I’m not going to break, he puts a little more power behind his thrusts.
I hate feeling like he holds back, even understanding why he would feel the need to. So I glance back at him over my shoulder. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”
He runs his hand over my ass, pulling back and easing back in one more time. “You sure?”
“I won’t break, I promise.”
I get a glimpse of his sexy little smile, then I face forward and wait to see if he’ll listen. I love that he’s gentle with me because I know it means he cares, but I don’t want him to hold back with me. I want him to give me everything he’s got—maybe not all today, but it’s a start.
I guess he believes me, because his next couple thrusts increase in power until he’s pounding into me so hard and deep I can hardly keep a hold on the counter.
In no time at all, my pussy contracts around his cock, and with a few more thrusts and a low groan, he finds his own release.
I wish we would’ve moved to the bed. I want to curl up and cuddle with him, not have to stand on my wobbly legs.
Sal pulls out and turns me around to face him. He smiles tenderly, crushing his thumb across my cheek, and brushes a kiss across my lips. “I have no problem being gentle if that’s what you want. Francesca.”
“I just want you,” I tell him, running a hand down his muscular chest. “All of you. Tender Sal, rough Sal—whatever version you’ve got, I’ll take it.”
Smiling growing, he tells me, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he wraps his arms around me for a minute, pressing a kiss on top of my head. “I’ll be right back. I need to get this off and wash up.”
I nod, back out of his embrace so I can scoop up my discarded clothing from the ground and clean up at the kitchen sink.